this is my favorite game of words <br />that i engage in at any hour of the day <br />and in any other place <br /> <br />i can create them outside the paper and <br />without the use of pen <br /> <br />sometimes it happens that way when i ride <br />in a bus and the destination is 36 hours away <br /> <br />or even in a span of minutes <br />when sleep does not come <br /> <br />or when nap is nil <br /> <br />my fingers help to put music by tapping its nails <br />on the metal rail <br /> <br />and there is dancing and singing and some speeches in between <br /> <br />soliloquies <br />silhouettes <br /> <br />six-shooters <br />jailbirds <br /> <br /> <br />farmers reaping <br />hay on a sunny day <br /> <br />as though the room is a place where <br />party and conversations co-exist <br /> <br /> i do not put more than what is necessary <br />it is enough to just survive the hours of pressure <br />the little training of torture <br /> <br />the principle has always been <br />i only use what is here <br /> <br /> i discard what is not found here <br /> <br />there are no expectations from the beams <br />there is no show of shadows <br /> <br />i let imagination go <br />and let reality stay for a while <br /> <br />one by one i enumerate what i can contain by the numbers of my fingers <br /> <br />i think of the names <br />of friends <br /> <br />i gaze upon myself <br />i am glad i give myself a smile.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-game-of-words-in-any-place-at-any-time/
