<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=484780" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Philosophy, And This Sense Of Respect For The Other.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">for a poem to be real<br>he is lecturing me<br>like i am one of his students in class</div><div style="margin:10px 0">it must have <br>political color<br>like a student leader put to prison<br>the one with<br>balls <br>fighting against an oppressive system<br>raging against the tide</div><div style="margin:10px 0">it must be a questioning poem<br>one that lives in<br>quarter storms</div><div style="margin:10px 0">it must have the love story of a rebel<br>war torn places<br>secret codes<br>and not subservient</div><div style="margin:10px 0">love is not an issue in poetry<br>or identity crisis<br>these are all nothing but foolishness</div><div style="margin:10px 0">existentialism? what for? <br>intellectual masturbation that gives you<br>nothing<br>but selfish ejaculation</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i have respect for him<br>he is alive and fighting and kicking and revolting<br>soon he will be caught<br>and killed and his families<br>massacred<br>perhaps<br>God forbids</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To me however, <br>Life is too short for all these<br>and so<br>here i am writing anything that comes to my mind<br>topics range<br>whatever comes along<br>ants, or reptiles or sun or <br>urination<br>or filial pity or<br>envy, <br>or premature deaths<br>or mourning widows<br>lost kids and <br>even about the lost cents<br>that the houseboy keeps on looking</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is life.<br>A phenomenon, it does not matter<br>if nothing is important.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see, and so i write, <br>There are feelings, nearest to my heart<br>and i hear all the sounds</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I echo, <br>This is the resounding.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Life ends, sometimes, others do not like it.<br>I welcome everything.<br>My arms are always open, like a port at sea<br>Like a cave less the vines.</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> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=484780" data-title="A Philosophy, And This Sense Of Respect For The Other. de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="for a poem to be real he is lecturing me like i am one of his students in class it must have political color like a student leader put to prison the one with balls fighting against an oppressive system raging against the tide it must be a ques..."></div> </div> </div>

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