The Unpoetic Stage Poem by RIC BASTASA

when you have become too busy
reading between the lines of other people's truth and lies
you become unpoetic,
you do not see how enticing the world becomes
you are preoccupied extracting which is real and which is not.

truth is unpoetic. It is bland. It has no friends.
It is blinded and how it sees is a matter of logic.
the eyes become useless. It is the mind. It is the numbers
that run your world now.
the distance, the measure of what is really there.
There is no more beauty in quality.
It is the quantification, the weight, the blackness and whiteness
of squares and circles.

to become poetic once again, one must not believe much on truths.
There is imagination which defies the ugliness of this humanity.

One rearranges beliefs. Put things together. Design
beauty and then say all the good there is.

i am in this stage now. And they say that i have served so well.