RIC S. BASTASA


24282 - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA

THE NORMAL PASSAGE OF A HUMAN BEING

there was this friend
who wrote sonnets in high school

it was the first time that he fell in love
with a girl with thick glasses and fists like stones

i saw how she hit him and he did not do anything
except perhaps to write more sonnets

their love did not make it
they did not marry for love

Life did teach them many lessons
sometimes marriage is not love

profession is not daily bread
survival is not a struggle but simply numbness

living is just a day to day waking up and sleeping
and nights are even not for sleeping anymore

if you are my age you will know that this is not madness
but something that everyone in their normal lives

undergo, like a communion, a confession, a crucifixion
and a redemption

sometimes you are enlightened
like a yogi, you only live for the moment

your children are not yours
your properties are just passing things

like leaves blown away
like memories that no matter how you keep in photographs

all, all still fade away
and that one day, someone asks, ' what is this all about?

who is this? ' and someone who has a tight skin
and a small lit eye says

and lightly, utters, ' i don't really know'

but if they only care enough
the one who was forgotten was the one who wrote sonnets

and the one who said
i do not know is the youngest daughter of

the girl with thick glasses and fists of stones
who died not for love but only for the money.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, November 26, 2013


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