I Cry No River

they love me
for being
a river,

they like
the sway of
my flow

the way i surge
and run and
rage

and move against
rocks
and sticks and
timber and
even carry
rhinos and
crocks
on my back

mind you

they love the way
i gargle

the way a toothpick
satisfies
a discriminating
matron
after dinner

at most
they cheer me
for my
travels of
least resistance

as i curl
from one sleeping
mountain to
another

as i ignore
cliffs
and holes
and sharp
bamboos
and some
pythons

they all praise
me for being a
river

and fear me for
every little
uprising
sometimes

because i can
be also
cruel
when provoked
like fallen
grace

i get awarded
as the most promising river
the committee
gave me the
Highest Achievement Award
for a river

i get the trophies
and the cash prizes
and the numerous
plaques

(i feel
the inside
roughness of
the other
plaque between
my teeth and
gum)

i am not
really happy if
only
they
ask me

but they didn't

who wants to be a river?
yes, who really wants to be a mere river?

nobody

but love me for this
i never cried
a river

i cry no
river no more

(never for once
if i
correctly still
remember)

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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