Contemplation 1 Poem by RIC BASTASA

When i try to grasp you
and you wish you had meaning with
my grasping
i become a loser at the end
i do not have
anything for you: it is just a game

and i once told you i like being
a child again
i have no scheme for you
whatever you become it is
your responsibility

when i hold your hand
i mean nothing, not love, not lust,
it is just a way of letting time fall
between my fingers

i try to think that i am waiting for
someone
to make an event with me
like having a kiss
but it is not just that: always i end up
with nothing

i sit, and then i stand and then i
leave without
leaving any word. It is senseless
but that is what it is.

Frank and always ready to go.
You know how is it to feel
lonely and in this state you always
want to go somewhere else.

and this is where we differ.
You live in a map, and there are
landscapes
that you imagine.
I don't have any. I only have
my eyes with wings.
My fingers always rivers.