The Art Of Scribbling... Poem by RIC BASTASA

to scribble
in symbols, some lines
drawn by the sharpness of
a knife
upon a bark of a tree
or this steel chisel
upon a rock

some dashes of
my stick
upon the sands
i ponder upon these truths

it is raining again
slowly some lines shall be taken away

the sea rises and its tongues of waves
lick the smooth thigh of the shore
romance, and love
lines that are dissolving upon the water
and the gentle rain
that robs me slowly
of what i remember

silence sits upon my lips
longer
and i do not wish to drive it away

somehow
it is making me happier

the deep sea
settles upon my forehead
sinks there
like a boat where all the passengers
scream
only for a while only to be swallowed
whole
by that big mouth
of emptiness