RIC S. BASTASA


As Though It Were My Only Son.... - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA

there is no such thing as an official poem.
there maybe familiar ones,
most acceptable ones with the pulitzers and nobels and whatevers
but there is only this personal poem that you compose
for no one, or for no other and sometimes not even for yourself
it is a journal, a landmark of your stay,
a feeling that you cannot forget, you record it,
it is only you who knows it well and fully
recognizes it when after a time, when you have forgotten,
it comes to you as a reminder
about someone, about something, about an event
that when you pass away and come back
in whatever form
it becomes a scent of someone, or something and then
you remember exactly
what it was, and then you say, this is the poem that i have once
composed
and i love it, and i remember,
it is my poem,
i have composed it for that reason
and i am proud of it
as though
it were my only son.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about As Though It Were My Only Son.... by RIC S. BASTASA

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Monday, May 14, 2012



[Report Error]