..Perhaps It Knows From The Very Beginning.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

do not suffer
the ache of my own tooth

lest you be too assuming
it is your hypocrisy that
repels me

look at me, carefully look
at the creases of my peace
words of grief are not well
kept in place

sobs scatter like mosquitoes
on the swamps
sadness crumples like waste
paper in the screen basket

you have suffered the same
curling inside a room like a
cocoon

it is always a sigh of relief
that 'when' is a word that invites
the 'period'

write 30 on the diary
and in one of those pages note
a reminder, ' i was once in love
the feeling reels like a snake
on my neck

and when it bites and i feel
the trigger of electric emotions
i know, i never had the antidote
for love, if it was hate or
indifference, it never cured me,
and here lies the epitaph of
not thinking, just living and loving
and then the dying'

life is short, it was either boredom
or grief. The new born child cries,
perhaps, it knows from the very
beginning.