Realizations Poem by RIC BASTASA

it was not that long
ago when i want to give you
something smooth
as silk
or soft as a morning
glory petal
those which are
understandable and
clear
and acceptable

it is like a sculpture of
a chair
edges smooth
well defined
ends

or a baby with a smile
as real as
bow and arrow

but time makes us
strange
and make us pretend that
we understand everything
everything

there is something
that justifies our age
and that is when
we begin to accept the unreal
and embrace
the absurd as though they are
our genitals

they are here
and we become a part of them
without any
questions asked

and then we become as happy
as the breeze of the sea
early one morning

the reasons become accessories
and then finally
they are nothing but left-overs
that we feed
to the dogs unfed for days