In The House Of Sin...
sin closes all
the windows and
doors
seals any
entrance of
streaks of
light
the foul smell
does not know how
to stay
the smoke of sin
roams around the house
until it finds
an exit on the
chimney
there is no scream
but the whole
neighborhood sees
and finds
you...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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for John on his first frustration
let me draw you a house
with an entrance gate
leading to an entrance
door and some windows
to let in air.
just that, there will be no
exit doors, no exit gate,
all the windows open,
not designed to close,
that precisely is success
and failure.
there is a sense of
entrance triumphant
ditto an exit for some
ordinary and even
inevitable failures of
our lives.
the windows are some
of our other options, we
let in air to breathe
for a while. we must.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Compulsion 5
it is there
it goes out
you want to hide it in your palm
in your clenched fist
it escapes
as perfume
as smoke
from the chimney
of the house
whose windows and doors you have closed
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For A Legal Nymph....
when the academics failed her
she deciphers the labyrinths and
finds the exit door of this complicated
tunnel.
Not regretting love
she quits the books
she embraces love and
readies herself for
another chapter of
pains.
The truth is there is less
drama in happiness ever after.
Something that you cannot forget
is when the lover dies
and loved one survives and
at the end
loses herself to the island that
no one finds.
The ending is hazy.
The book closes on a misty day.
The writer says
I do not know. They are not real.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Poet Finds....
The poet finds whatever the moon could not see,
The poet finds whatever the earth does not know,
The poet finds whatever the sun could not see,
The poet finds whatever others do not know,
The poet finds whatever the stars could not see,
So why do the heathen rage and the people plot vanity? !
For she who is pregnant is closer to us,
And the hart pants after streams of water.
Your tears have been your food night and day,
And like your inner self in the lan dof your muse;
But the poet finds whatever the sun could not see.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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If You Only Know I Can Also Make A Love Poem For You
you need not open your door
i know someone lives there
and there is no seat for me
but you may open your window
for tonight i can be the moon
and if he sees me and closes the
window i may look for a crack
a little crack made by this termite
and i can be a hush of the wind
getting in trying to touch your skin
if he seals the crack i may be
part of the rain and i may enter
on some slits of your roof
and still drip on your lock of hair
for with you my love even if
there is no possibility
that i can be with you yet this love
though late can still last a lifetime
finding the ways till it finds you
finally loving and kissing me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In This House
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the windows
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the doors
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was your food
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was the word
in this house
where you stood
what you could
something say
in this house
you could open
windows doors clapping wings
in this house
you could open
soul that heaven upward sings
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Settling Fog
“Save, save, save me from the brutal hands, ”
The cries emerged early in the foggy morn,
In the month of December in frosty cold.
Then a volley of bullets was fired,
The cries instantly became silent;
The neighboring windows, the doors opened,
They seemed like black holes in the thick fog;
The lookers’ images appeared like phantoms,
Then smelling stinking smell of the foul game,
They shut tight the windows, the doors,
No one came to rescue the victimized being,
For the fog was settling before the sun rose.
poem by Shahida Latif
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Freedom Eternal
freedom eternal
costs
is your soul saved
lost
seemingly solid ground
quakes
judgement not by Greek
fates
creator of universe moves
in earthquakes
God warns all humanity
beware hour is late
sheep God’s own or goats
separate at gate
seals of divine weighed judgement
eternal check mate
Jesus closes salvation path to God’s heaven
demons lost souls cry out in torment shake
Jesus closes seals permanently entrance to hell
doomed souls lost in eternal darkness quake
poem by Terence George Craddock
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It Is Late
it is late and the sun is setting
the orange and red are diminishing
the blackness spreads like a diffusion
of our sorrow and pain
soon there will be the closing of the windows
of the house
the locking of doors of the ground floors
and some prayers mumbled from lips
to lighted candles on altars of saints
and angels
soon there will be stories
from mother
and songs too
and then in the quiet
of the stars and the moon and the sky
soon there will
be sleep
under white mosquito nets
the light from the lamp
is blown away
and we smell the smoke
coming from the
loved ones
long dead
we end the games that we play
and we are silent
we yawn and close our eyes
and now ready
as we enter the doors of
our dreams
in there
there may be chases and running too
i am sure somehow we just take a look
unspeakably
things are hazy and we do not remember
anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Little Boy In My Hometown
a little boy
finds the house too crowded
his father beats his
mother in the kitchen
where fish is
grilled
his sisters pull each
other's hair
in the living room
where he wants
to read
his brother breaks the
chair and throws plates
over the window
when no money is
given
it is like the house
is always on fire
and there is not even
a pail of water
and so the little boy
wants to run away
but there is no other
place
as the town is also
too crowded for itself
people are shouting
and beating each other
the park is neither
a peaceful place to
stay as bullies too
overcrowd there
and so the little boy
climbs a tree and
finally
finds a very cool place
to pray.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The face of mother
Each creature, may be man,
may be Buffalo or any insect,
sees the face of one's mother
and finds it beautifulest,
finds solace to see the face
of mother, bcoz, one sees the
face of God unto the face
of one's mother; as the perfection,
love, peace, affection,
tranquility and divine multitude
exist in the face of mother.
poem by Ramesh Rai
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It Is The Same Unrequited Love As The Old Song From The Mountain
the love is alive
within you and it wants to talk
and tell and just
be a smoke rising finally from the
confines of the chimney
from those closed windows
and locked doors
liberation, spirits freed from
what imprison them
just to say i love you and then
i go
it is enough it does not demand much
it says hello and then
keeps upon its pocket the word
goodbye
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Is Something In Us Always
there is something in us always
that closes and opens like fingers
there is something inside that watches
for love, and waits, and anticipates,
something that feels home, and
goggles for familiarity, and when it
finds it, it opens so confidently,
unmindful of any pain, expectant
of the excitement, promised and
betrayed, and mourning, and then
there is something in us that closes,
no matter what, it is still closed,
despite the death of time, it still
closes upon itself, curling, thickening
unwilling, wanting to die, but couldn't.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Anger Within
A gem cutter
takes a pause
and finds the hate of a locked house.
The words scream
and hurl a propensity for violence
becoming an aphorism.
A pithy precipitation
was delayed. The seeds in desert
will not be able to catch the light.
I am still lonely
making peace with rain of arrows
coming from nowhere.
poem by Satish Verma
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A Fire Escape
imagine
one night
when you are
alone
inside a room
with windows
secured with
iron grills
the fire starts
from that only
door and there is
no other exit
imagine that
electricity is cut
the smoke
enters your room
crawling on the
floor
you panic
and you do not remember
where escape is
where to find again
the entrance to the
next life
blame yourself
how you hated the thief
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thoughts After Sex
after sex
people sleep
that is the
usual exit that
people who want
to escape seem
to know and do
they sleep
the routine keeps
going like
house, office,
office, house
roads, doors
doors, road
after sex
the usual exit
is closed
you look at the
ceiling trying to
open another
door
but there isn't
any.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Just A Bit Of Light Is Enough
A bit of light will be enough
To reach again for my lost delights
With a bit of light may I can revive to get back my broken wings
With bit of light I will try
May I can fly
With bit of light may I can once again touch far skies
A bit of light may gives me the courage to scream
May I can freely cry even smile or fall
In love
Just a bit of light will be enough
To gather one more time again to put together my broken spirit
May my soul from the dark escapes free and finds the light.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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That Corrupt Woman
what i hear this
morning is about the news of her
disorientation
she repeats the names of
those who left her
over and over again
she keeps asking for her
pills
she has aches all over her
body
when she goes to the doctor
the latter finds nothing
wrong
it is the apathy of her soul
the Furies are pulling her hair
and breaking her every bone
bad karma is the knife that slices
every portion of her skin
she will be returned home
now there is no cure
she will speak in ciphers
that she herself cannot understand
there is pain everywhere
but there is no visible wound
she finds no comfort in air
she is grasping for breath
she tears her own clothes
and roams naked in her mansion
her children are asking her
but her answers are dumb.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No One Wants To Remember The Tragedy
THIS Is the old house
that negligence burned
you must remember two bodies
still at arms with each other
less the scream for help
where no help is available
less the struggle to escape
where no exit is found
they huddled upon themselves
as smoke choked them as fire finally consumed them
this is the place where beams fell down
charred and ashed
soon the grass will cover all these
the scream becomes part of the song of the winds
another one shall come and take this
place anew
to grow dreams again
no one wants to remember
what was it all about
shall one forever keep the truth?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love's Pains
when love looks at you
you move out
show your back
and make a smack
at me
i, who clings to
a love
unrequited
you who loves
another
is a tongue-in-cheek
you who
finds all these
irrelevant
i, who is full
finally finds
an empty bag
when you left
i kiss the air
that still carries your
smell
you who does not
love me
has the laughter
i, who love you
rains the tears.
you have the sun
i have its other side
the darkness of
a loveless night
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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