A Philosophy, And This Sense Of Respect For The Other. Poem by RIC BASTASA

for a poem to be real
he is lecturing me
like i am one of his students in class

it must have
political color
like a student leader put to prison
the one with
balls
fighting against an oppressive system
raging against the tide

it must be a questioning poem
one that lives in
quarter storms

it must have the love story of a rebel
war torn places
secret codes
and not subservient

love is not an issue in poetry
or identity crisis
these are all nothing but foolishness

existentialism? what for?
intellectual masturbation that gives you
nothing
but selfish ejaculation

i have respect for him
he is alive and fighting and kicking and revolting
soon he will be caught
and killed and his families
massacred
perhaps
God forbids

To me however,
Life is too short for all these
and so
here i am writing anything that comes to my mind
topics range
whatever comes along
ants, or reptiles or sun or
urination
or filial pity or
envy,
or premature deaths
or mourning widows
lost kids and
even about the lost cents
that the houseboy keeps on looking

This is life.
A phenomenon, it does not matter
if nothing is important.

I see, and so i write,
There are feelings, nearest to my heart
and i hear all the sounds

I echo,
This is the resounding.

Life ends, sometimes, others do not like it.
I welcome everything.
My arms are always open, like a port at sea
Like a cave less the vines.