At The Mactan International Airport Poem by RIC BASTASA

a diary:

we arrive15 minutes early.
i have only two light bags.
this time i travel as light as
a feather.This time i travel
alone.

it is a connecting flight
to caticlan. I have to wait
for another 7 hours.
there will be too much
minding on arrivals and
departure.

i escape this waiting
and goes to the ayala mall.
got some italian pasta
and fresh veggies for
lunch. iced tea to appease
the longing of my
throat.

i hop to another japanese
resto nearby. The soft
salmon sushi and
californian maki this
time.

i pooed at rai-rai ken's
comfort room. And i
remember the famous
poem of the poo
and the cheese and
the grand feeling
of freeing waste
from the system.

great writer, huh?

and someone just ask
me if a fake poet just
sent me a love note
from brazil or
nicaragua. I laugh.

what is the need
to know the name
of someone who
loves you and sends
you a note and does
not tell her
reality? is she indeed
true? is she as real
as her poems.

i have other matters
to attend to. This time
another pizza at the
yellow taxi cab and
coca-cola, and

then i have to buy
an ear plug and some
sun block.

now i have something
more in my mind.

a swim in a blue sea.
snorkling. island hopping.
corals. colored fish.

the white sands of boracay.
boats. banana boats.
white towels. buffet by the sea.

a walk at the beach at dawn
and then seeing the sun rising.

a walk again in the afternoon
and seeing the sun setting.

things like these. somehow
i am now ready and willing to
forget where i come from.

i am new. i am a fish. i am
a coral. i am a starfish.

i sit on one of those empty
chairs, a table of my own.
a candle light. and i am ready
to tell anybody that i am alone
and i have a name.

i need to practice how to smile
and yes, be attractive and
yes, be seductive.

(ha ha ha ha)