..We'll Wait With A Drink. Poem by RIC BASTASA

the way you predict it
many times the world is about to end
and hell is coming
for those who have fallen short of
prayers

it is always a calling for repentance
people must
i imagine myself, what if i have
to wear a sack for a dress and
hit my head on the wall so that
the blood of my own redemption
shall come,

as always on the date of the ending
the world still is rotating and
revolving without bullets of the gun
no one is hit, no one falls dead on the
floor, no one dies on the street,
no balls of fire, no choir of angels,

the traffic is getting worse, the haze
comes, there is a need for masks,
we still eat our meals and snacks
drink coffee and engage in talks

i like it this way, just listening to you
(but i guess not that seriously enough
when we were once kids deciding for
a jump to the river from the coconut tree

or killing doves with our slings using
our magic stones, or the way we believe
that we can be davids to the goliaths
of our dreams...

well, life goes on and on, and if you
still be the doomsday prophet of my time
i still feel free, not to take you seriously,
if sooner we die, and we know it's certain,
let death do its work, ..we'll wait with a drink.