As The Pilot Sings His Mother's Song Poem by RIC BASTASA

I AM just wondering
why you have opted for less:

less quantity,
that makes insecure
my desired quality,

at first i care,
i only have to say what is best
and necessary
so as not to crowd
the space where
writers
gather and speak
for themselves
about time and matter and
suffer,

there is a feeling of
something that is about to be exhausted
like a candle
with its wick which had been
burning
day and night
without
rest like the heart which had been
beating
from the time we come out of the womb
till the time
that we will enter our
designated
tomb

i like to be a bomb
for now,
tight upon myself
and gaining
so much force
till the right time comes
and i
will explode


so much for that,
back to wonder, and back to you
you must have more
because there is more to
what is less
than you are

write what is in your heart
do no mind, do not mind
what word to choose
what ladder to step upon
what fall
what strips us all

i am writing what i do not
even hear

relying on feeling like a plane
in the middle of a thick cloud
an ocean of fog
relying only on a radar
as the pilot sings his
mother's song.