94 Poem by RIC BASTASA

compulsive

a tattoo in your body crawling your thoughts
of the past
reflected in the lines of your skin those violent ones
and bloody ink tracing what they did to you when you were
just but a kid,
you cannot stop the tattoo
tattooing you, a matter of obsessive
compulsive body writing,
these too are the makings of depression,
the doctor says, you do it and you want it done, like you cannot stop
tattoo tattooing you,
in your arms,
and legs
and tomorrow your chest


you wish some pictures of God and gods
no, no, not the monsters that you want extricated,
i watch you
in this compulsion and you are relating why,
how,
what
explaining the meanings of these figures when they confront you,
i am listening,
i am not lost, i am analyzing bits and pieces of your world
to mine,
i am amazed how the changes come,
like some scribbles
becoming
angels
and saints,
i am trying to get what the
doctor is saying,
compulsive neurosis
schizophrenia,
obsessive,
dominant
recessive,
i am looking
for a space to put you
and make you my guinea pig,
but i stopped,

you are human and i must respect you,
now, i have to deal with my compulsive state too,
this poetry,
i cannot stop and it is hammering me everyday,

crazy.