Biography of Ofero Basbas
Male.50s. Married with 3 daughters, currently freelance graphics designer and copy writer.
Previous involvements cover investment promotion, creative direction, animation training and production, and local government work.
Painting and music are joyful pre-occupations.
Ofero Basbas's Works:
Ofero Basbas Poems
Words Count For Nothing
Would have stayed a bit longer but i am running out of words i had hoped my words would count for something like the great poets,
What Is Happiness
what is happiness. then? is it like a passing fad a breathe, a puff, a dewdrop? the longer i live the lesser
at the beginning, facing a blank page, don’t let the editor in.
Let The Poet Be
let the poet be, for he has gone the way of dreams in that space and time where he sometimes lives there is nothing there, or everything there empty, full, empty, fool, empty.
A Rose In One Hand
a rose in one hand and silence in the other,
In the beginning there was sound
for sure, you only promised one thing: being there being there when the sun shone and
Pamumungnan Sa Tahaw Kan Uran
lambang turo' may sadiring tanog lambang turo' may sadiring lugar lambang turo' may sadiring pangaran
I Am River
who are you? i asked. river. it was all i heard. your true name? i persisted. river, she repeated; then she was quiet, as if there was something i just didn’t get; she did not need to explain.
Out Of Time
once more, indeed, i just couldn’t believe the ticking clock would not stop nor quit
Adrift On Raindrops
each one a drop that sings a different note each one a drop that drops a different place each one a drop that shares a different name.
down the stairs, trotted little steps laughter stepping gaily behind them in my heart, i knew only this secret thing:
Gentle, My Joy
gentle, my joy like the leaf that shudders in the cold night gentle, my sweet
The Cigarette Vendor
harsh light carving dark tattoos in his arms, he looks across the street to dead men in stone-carved statues; posed there, as still as the post he seeks shelter in,
What Is Happiness
what is happiness. then?
is it like a passing fad
a breathe, a puff, a dewdrop?
the longer i live the lesser
i know; time only rewards us
with memories and chance.
and each passing hour
like chains of clouds passing
by on a hot summer day