RIC S. BASTASA


The Mining Story - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA

they scraped the hills
with trees
the green grasses of homes
are gone
they dug those big holes
looking for
metals

manganese, gold,
for your jewelries
and other accessories
coal for your
fuels

the natives are dislocated
the children lost their birds
chickens and pigs are butchered
for they have no place
to stay

the hills are like criminals
their heads cut off
the trails here are like
intestines
penetrating the
belly of this
earth

listen! do you hear the drunkards
the government and mining firms!
listen! do you hear the sounds of guns
and the last living screams of the
chieftains
the mayors whom they voted
betrayed them

listen! do you hear the explosions
of bombs
the mountains are cracking
skulls
brains are spilling on the
rocks


listen! do you hear the guards coming
with their M-16s
and barking dogs

Run! Run! Run for your lives
Lest you forget
We are the last chickens and
pigs alive

Do not look back

Those are the children and wives
of the chieftains
Those are the hungry natives
begging in the cities

Their Homes gone
Their Hopes shattered


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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 2, 2011

Poem Edited: Wednesday, May 4, 2011


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