RIC S. BASTASA
How Do We Speak In Riddles? - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA
how do we speak in riddles?
are we the modern versions of the sphinx
and where can oedipus stand and destroy
us at the crossroads?
come oedipus, slay us with your
and incestuous destiny.
we are supposed not to look straight in the eye
we degenerate and shrink when we do so
we delineate a bit
not for any dramatics but it is simply the reason
why we are born this way,
writing in crooked lines
and burying some meanings on the sand
for the waves to caress and recover
with great patience and love,
we speak and we do not explain
they will say they will understand
and each shall make a stand that
though different each is right to a certain extent,
this is the life of
mystery a prism of colors contrasting
conceding condescending yet
true, well, maybe different when
filtered, light, shadows, images,
then extract, abstract, and what you find
ultimately from what is written above is
these are what we poets mean.
Comments about How Do We Speak In Riddles? by RIC S. BASTASA
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You