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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=484484" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Happening Within</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">there is something in us that grows<br>into a complication, <br>the sophistication of the labyrinths that <br>we create in every word and line, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">it used to be just a simple house with<br>one door without walls and ceiling<br>a theater for the dance of the wind<br>and the fireflies & perhaps</div><div style="margin:10px 0">one window and a little patio to appease the senses<br>of simplicity<br>dressed like a rag doll</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but it can't be prevented<br>as time grows more hands and feet and even wings<br>and horns</div><div style="margin:10px 0">many subways are built<br>secret chambers<br>foxholes and slaughter houses<br>or tea tables </div><div style="margin:10px 0">restricted areas and hidden homes<br>and buried cemeteries<br>and lost treasures<br>that will never be found</div><div style="margin:10px 0">perhaps that is our nature<br>and also the nature of our poetry</div><div style="margin:10px 0">there is a room where we make love<br>and there is only one person there<br>name not revealed<br>no one has a hint</div><div style="margin:10px 0">there is a kitchen where no cooking is done<br>for fear of smoke and fire</div><div style="margin:10px 0">where firewood is taboo and where cigarette speaks<br>a language of puffs </div><div style="margin:10px 0">like Indian warriors communicating to <br>themselves<br>in the smoke of their palms</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i, myself, create signs<br>that are designed more to confuse<br>than to <br>make bridges</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the rivers are happier<br>and the clouds celebrate the success of<br>the floating</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i am into this again<br>this chasm between two selves<br>split carrot stick</div><div style="margin:10px 0">that falling that is endless<br>that bliss that is as silent as the star at night </div><div style="margin:10px 0">when you are alone<br>and missing no<br>one.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=484484" data-title="A Happening Within de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="there is something in us that grows
into a complication, 
the sophistication of the labyrinths that 
we create in every word and line, 

it used to be just a simple house with
one door without walls and ceiling
a theater for the dance of the wind
..."></div>
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