The Survivor.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

the inner struggles
have been
not just few

the thinking
is like going to war
and massive
killings along the
way

the mind is a survivor
the body stands still


people see you
like a pillar

the house is strong
the beams not trembling

and the garden
is simply beautiful


clouds hang on the
roof

air goes in and out
this constant
visitor

the doors are open
here

the windows are
enigmatic

worries are like
urine
flooding the
legs but the mind
is quick
like a diaper

somehow the self is
as elastic
as the rubberized
path like the
one at the gym

one goes back to
the couch
recalls, relates,
a boat waits
to ferry you back
to your throat
and heart

there you spell
the words
perfectly and there
the blood corpuscles
have hands
and you hear them
clapping

well done
wait for the next
journey
outside the
veins