The Morning World Poem by RIC BASTASA

this morning world of mine
used to be calm and peaceful
like my secret pond
where the only guests are
the blue kingfisher and the
yellow fish
on a predator-prey relationship
on a stalemate of who's gonna
eat who at the end
of the day
don't get lost for i am not through yet
i may be lost myself
these few days but i still have a hold
of the rope that they hang
on the beam of the ceiling of my
house

this morning the world is giving
me the sounds of thunder
with flashes of lightning like
a disco house enclosed to
rock loud music,

i prefer to be naked again
and go back to sleep.

the signs are bad and i do not want
to be part of any rage
any anger any pain anymore
i do not want to be a part of this
conspiracy to inflict
to eat what i cannot swallow
to digest what poisons me

i prefer to make love with you
rather than scream and be one of those
bad souls in a devil's party.

i hate conflagrations.