The Journeys Of My Mind Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is always a mixture of this and that
the this that i want to tell
and the that
that keeps on shutting

this is it, and it is life
that is it, and it can be death

so many times the sky wants to split and open up
like a bread that you divide
it offers promises, views of moons and slices of so many suns
but what comes instead is the grayness and heaviness of
these and those
these rains, those cold nights
where we keep
blankets of comfort
in our own liking

and so it rains with cats and dogs instead
and our ears break like shatters of mirrors that we pick
and ask if our faces are still in tact

we have so many and we become so many
in these games that we usually play
we sometimes stay together and watch how the world is going
from where we talk and drink
from our verandas of comings and leavings

we are mostly sad but we never show it
we are often lonely but we do not care

and when we're happy we keep it to ourselves
we differ a lot but our loneliness
keep us solid together
in this boat of misery
where we are taken to the places of dismay

i actually and honestly
do not know where we are going
and so i always keep on talking.