RIC S. BASTASA
Its Head Trying To Bite Its Own Tail Tasting Its Own Blood
between my house and my office
is a long road connecting both like a snake
head to tail
quite a venomous image of my dwelling and existence
i could have used the word
inside the car the silence is like a carpet
silence is soft and perfumed this time
it has given an ambiance for a monologue
this time there are more of myself,
three i count them
it is not a monologue anymore,
there are three persons arguing
against each other's principles
the first one is saying that the second is crazy
the crazy one retorts that the first one is the usual unhappy
and withdrawn type
the one sad to say with all honesty with an unhappy childhood
the third is singing a song
thinking that there must be a way to solve problems
in the lyrics of some jolly
the first one claims ' Is there really a problem? '
the second one says, ' How stupid can you be not knowing that problems always exist? '
the third one stops singing and with dignity
recalls that there is always
pride in restraint and
a crowning glory when one treats himself
with utmost coldness in
even filtered indifference
'Only God knows how to sacrifice, Only the holy ones
know how to forgive and be forgiven' he said
'Are you telling us that we are devils?
You idiot! ' the two
exclaimed in unison.
Everything seems to boil down to morality
'why should it be? ' i ask myself.
and then the three decided to go
dissolve inside me.
I lost the singer,
the realist. I miss the one
who keeps using the word
Perhaps the world must be an idiot.
I pity the one with an unhappy Childhood.
He is the one that bugs my memory
and sometimes spoils my candle lighted
'What is happening to us? ' they might have asked.
They are like chunks of sugar, a pinch of salt,
a spoonful of vinegar, mixing themselves
in my cup of tea.
there is always something that happens
which i am trying to understand when i drive my car alone
between my house and my office
like a snake that is now forming a benzene
its mouth trying to bite its own tail
blood at its
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(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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