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Best Poems From
RIC S. BASTASA
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13597.
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traveler, vagabonder
if you only know
why man has to take his
endless journey
you should have known us
too
but i prefer that you do not ask
i know you know that on this aspect
i have only
lies.
RIC S. BASTASA
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13598.
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travelers on light weight
one place to another
shifting
another day another night
drifting
what more escape doors
do we really need?
the winds are too kind
for drifters like us
twirling in the air
as leaves of
summer trees
we shift paradigms
we move to more places of
our hearts
wanting to cure what footprints
of loneliness have been left
in the sands of our shore-less souls
slowly we travel and scenes
of cities and towns flash before our weary eyes
trees along the roads
have become flowing rivers in our minds
stopovers are giving us names
of people that
we know we do not have to remember
this is the journey
this is the metaphor of who we really are
pilgrims of the shrine of life
vagabonds of seasons
travelers of light packs
trekkers of temporaries
and we never ask
when will this really end?
RIC S. BASTASA
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13599.
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travelling
a travel is a metaphor of a journey
and a journey is always
what life is all about
arrivals and departures and i see it well
at airports
and well, so well, at pre-departures
then we move inside the plane and
the doors close and we are lifted to the skies
for hours you are beside the clouds
but you never have the courage to open the window
and touch each fine cotton beside you
crazy but sometimes i think that way
opening closed windows and think not of the
prohibitions and the consequencies,
there is so much silence up there and it is the mind
that does much of the talking and you listen
always for the reminders of the stewardess
and the captain telling you that
we are 30,000 feet above sea level and out there
you see Panay Island
we will be flying for one hour and a half
it is a fine day
and then the seat belt sign is on for the
turbulence but you do not mind
you look forward to an arrival and the another
opening of a door to a destination
touchdown, the plane lands perfectly as always
no plane crash, no headlines for the daily news
but i do not really think about these matters anymore
i am thinking of the silence. I am thinking about the mind that
keeps on talking. Data. Ideas. Sad memories.
Dead parents. Sick sibling. Flowers. Trees.
The sun brightly shining behind a
Thick Cumulus cloud.
the stewardess announces an arrival, fifteen minutes
earlier than scheduled. Fast plane. My thoughts unconsumed.
we step down. we take our bags. this journey never stops.
RIC S. BASTASA
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13600.
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trendy
most of my friends who went to Chicago
on care giving jobs
finally left for good the marriage
they had in the Philippines,
just this morning i had a chat with a
close friend whose husband had her
declared presumptively dead in court
so he can marry another,
she says it's a trend
marriages are bound to be broken
vows have no meaning
she did not mind at all if she is
'dead' to him and to the law,
she too has a man of her own now
a work to attend to,
another summer vacation in California
and in Paris sometime
this April,
and then she enumerates other names
who marriages are
dissolved,
it is not that time is cruel, it is just that
with money now,
they are free to find love
(and lust) .
so long, i may meet other names.
RIC S. BASTASA
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