Guns And Thorns Poem by RIC BASTASA

you take him in
you want him to fit
and be
in your circle

late at night he asks
if you are coming
as promised

he was looking for you
you said in due time you will be
there
a little busy body this time
making peace
with everybody

he was asked to talk
about something that he never
has an inkling
as to what is it

about a world that he never
for once
entered
nothing like a cave
for bats like him
operating more in sound
rather than
sight

he was honest
sadly he declared
' i have nothing to say'
this is not the world of my
fathers
'i am glad i am the victim
i have not killed
anybody'

on the other side
i write some notes,
' why do we transport
an alien to our world
and make him live there and suffer?

why did we invite him
to a party and then we are not there
to make him at home
with every social climber
of words?

and no one
talks to him
to make him a livable
home? '

you are unfair
i keep talking to myself
i cannot be responsible for this
i am an introvert
in fact i belong to no one
even with the good
i have long classified myself
as beyond
the tower of the church or
the pinnacle of governance

i have light kept
inside my body

it is you
but you are never there
you leave anytime you want
to go
you come when you like
coming



when you arrive at last,
the damage has been done.
He regrets your
procrastination
but will never tell you.

if you did it to me,
expect a rebellion
my words are knives
guns and
thorns....