And I Guess Until Now, Still Are Lost. Poem by RIC BASTASA

the one who got my hands
perhaps still unsatisfied
with its taste and texture
and flavor its blood and
veins,

comes back to the house asking
for my arm, and not contented with
one arm, he asks another arm,

for dinner with his new-found
friends who are happy-go-lucky
and want to have company to ease
their pains and drive them all away.

i have enough of this body.
so i find it pleasurable for
them to have it. It is with so
much gladness that i
surrender everything to those
who want it.

what i am minding is the setting
of the sun
the passing of time
the changing of the colors
of the horizon
the passing of the wind
the bending of trees
the rotation of planets
the falling of stars
and their coming back
as suns

i have a soul, and i am proud of it.
i have transcended the physical gates
and now journeying into the
metaphysical seas.

and those who are still feasting on
my flesh
remain in the limbo of greed


and i guess until now, still are lost.
i busy myself with the hazy view
and the faint sounds of songs
from the tiny shadows of all the angels
from a faraway heaven.