Metaphors Of My Existence Poem by RIC BASTASA

from far
i like the way you look at me
you believe that i am one of those stars

sometimes
you tell them that i am a moon
in your night
much useful as a sun
in your
rainy days
between two hills
of your
misfortunes

i have become your metaphor
and to a certain extent
an illusion

a magic to your eyes
and i have become
those skillful
fingers with
white gloves

i don't take rabbits from
black hats
no flowers from sticks
no crispy bills from
crumpled newspapers


i am real and when you get too close
i have fears

for like stars from far i am magical
and soothing
but when you get near
i can burn
everything

i am a rage of fire in combustion
a glowing ball of
with skill in annihilation

during intimacies
what moons can really be?

rugged terrains of grayness
with lots of holes and emptiness

my sound is the howl of distances
my affections nothing but
the coldness of my
isolated instances of discomforting
circumstances

this far i may be all kindness
to you
a morning sun
a glowing dew mistaken as a
pearl
a cold fog of softness upon
the trees upon the arrival
of nights

if you come closer
I've got everything that destroys

the universe knows
that i have brought so much havoc
in nearness
the collisions are
unimaginable
harshness


hence this isolation
this illusion
for i am kind when i am distant
i am best when i am extant


forget me, i am chaos.