RIC S. BASTASA


The Traveler - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA

alright i did it
upon your wishes
i went to San Isidro
i hate the place
there are no trees

Papa died
even in that last moment
he smiled for me
i am his guy
i followed him
his every wish

not mine of course
i love San Francisco
my friend all live there
they made themselves
to their own images
nothing
is a mimicry

alright i need not
regret it
i have life too
i can buy my own bed
and sleep
the rest of the day
feeling
so invigorated
not a bigot
or an
ergot

the years are flashes of
lighting
one gets attuned to the heavy rain
and those who are dead
have become mere numbers
you shift channels and
choose
to travel

alright i am now in San Francisco
the gate is not
golden
it is only in the mind

i never calculated that it is
even colder
than the cold that i imagine

my friends are no longer my friends
time spent for waiting has become
an anger

alright i walk alone
but know what? i have no fear
i love being alone now
i am enjoying sunset

red orange, flaming yet
mellow to my eyes
the sun is inside my heart
and it is burning


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, December 29, 2011

Poem Edited: Friday, December 30, 2011


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