The Gadfly Of Desire
there used to
be a
frenzied
passion,
this rut
and panic of the
nerves
the madness of
the desirous mind
wanting to
eat even if it
full
it craves for
water
and air
when water is
sea-full
when air
is a storm
you go awry
you run without direction
the ass
hole in you rules
you tumble
you fall
regret is all around you
mourning in a funeral
and you are
the star of
the dead show
years shut you up
and you hold a cane
your knees now
tremble
come to think of it
you sit on one of the stair planks
of the old house
you still like it coming back to you
the falling is sweeter
than this
monotonous sitting down
waiting for no one
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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