This Poetry Poem by RIC BASTASA

this poetry is a hiding place
the only nook left for me
running away from
every creature of the
party,

i take my time
and i do not really mind
what i write
whether i rhyme

this is another monologue
something i keep saying to myself
how can i like this and that
how can i tell you
about what i want to say to you?
there is no way
no place no society
there is no other entrance
or exit
from these tangles and
strangles

it is strange i mumble
i scramble and dabble
talking to myself
and pleasing myself
this is my corner
i keep talking and talking
you watch the tv series
you cry alone and i do not mind
if tears flood in this room

this is my place this is my silence
this is the poetry of escapism

i assume the shape of the bird's wing
i keep on flying without having to find any place
any island any sea any shore

the words keep coming, they do not go anywhere
anyway, that is how it is intended to be
nothing for nothing
talking and talking
somewhere everywhere
alone and everybody

the rain pours heavily on me
no one gets wet no one runs for shelter
no one really cares
halter swelter