They Say Nothing..... Poem by RIC BASTASA

we are the inferior ones
who still remain in that old age of
words,

those who are like us still admire
staying in the same old place
smelling like old rotten rosewood

slower than worms or snails we have
remained here, the old ways that never
die, the old painting that still
captivate our weary minds

we think death is a door towards
a new world, a new liking, a new
way at looking ourselves,

perhaps, perhaps, how we wish all
these would come true, to the same
spontaneity of the old, to the same
naked expressions, defying the norms
and rebelling a morality,

those who are ahead of us, are muted,
perfect in their new found silence,
never returning back, and laughing at
our ineptness, and then they move on
to the place beyond our imagination,

it is like being a tourist taking
nothing back, taking nothing going out,
and then not returning. They say nothing.