Swaggering Thoughts.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

I've been writing about
what i have not told you

or never shall it tell each
part of this roving whole

this whale in my belly
these planktons in my mind

at a certain point
there is that predator and
prey page of my life
that you shall not ever read

and this gives me
my dream of
freedom where i am myself
without your
knowing

i am always myself
but my touch to your cheek
shall not tell it


there is always an inside
story
on a writer's documentary
episode

this face that has not given
you the clue
of that brewing revolution
inside the world
drawn by my eyes
into the labyrinths of
my intestinal
anxieties
acidic storms
spasmodic series


soon someone shall tell you
and hand you the maps of my
journey and you shall be surprised
what places have i visited
without you

i fear that hour of
revelation where i shall become
completely a stranger
to you

where your hands shall shake
when your tongue dislikes the
taste of my
existence
my flavor is as bland as
old age


you will tell your friends on
one of those parties-
'oh, he is like that

he is an imagination of my mind
he is a mist in the mountain
he is the fog
that hangs on one of the trees'


and you assure them
this matter will just come to pass
an ice melting
seeping on one of those porous rocks
and then be
invisible to the layers

of rain on a sunny day
nothing is surprising anymore

everything is as normal as
switching light to a room when
the night comes without
any excuse

after denial, you know what comes
next
wholehearted acceptance
no matter how silly
how sinful perhaps


i like it this way-
'i am a thought, you can always dismiss
me
as a foam of the mouth
of the guy who
is suffering from
seizure

a whiffing cream
on a home baked cake

a dew on the morning's leaf
an orange
appearing with a glossy skin
beside an afternoon
window...'