If I could move on tapered wing
By feathered flight my mind would soar
To see this world through minted eye.
The social walls that kept me out
Those haughty souls, cigars alight
I’d see behind their curtains drawn
And share the fear that fills the glass
The pompous sound from marbled hall
That drowns out noise from shantied town
I’d fly a thread so fine and strong
Connecting all from shore to shore
Gossamer winged this sound would go
The sound of love transmitted long
From soul to soul, be young or old
To resonate within us all
And each would clasp the filament bright
And feeling strong from each to each
We’d all embrace as cheek to cheek
Yes, if I could fly on tapered wing,
I’d glide through clouds of inner self
And find the light that waits within.
But it no longer sends tears...
A once weary, despondent soul
Remembers a day, when
An onslaught of surprises arose.
Bad, sad, good, wrathful, hopeful,
On and on they came,
Like water overflowing...
Hows and Whys and Whens
Inundated the mind...
No words, no smiles, no laughter...
Nothing could have swayed
These questioning thoughts...
Drifting somewhere...always wandering,
But each moment abounding,
Like water overflowing...
The sun hid itself the whole day
That post holiday morning.
But soon enough,
The sun shone bright...
Upon the cloud of gloom, it spread...
Sunny, light and easy moments
Pervaded the atmosphere...
It brought rains of hope
Like water overflowing...
Late at nights,
The bed always invites.
Deep slumber surely follows,
Making up for countless
Regardless of unexpected showers,
Mornings are now filled with sun,
Lively with lush of greens.
Growth, long stunted
Have now restarted.
Doors are constantly open,
Like water overflowing...
Curtains are now parted...
Parting has not a tinge of sadness...
Life is sun, fun, moons and Junes and stars...
It is summer once again,
With water overflowing...
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
The morning sun trickles through the curtains as a reminder of another day begins
finding the rhythm of life an echo of days past, just a picture out of time unable to break the
cycle of days leading to the recycling of moments of prior.
To hope and pray for a change to change my life to make me new was no where to be found. Placed my hope some thought to be safe, but not the case found pain and sadness in their wake. Anger, fighting, regret and mistreatment lead to exhaustion and feelings of coldness and emptiness.
When realization sparked like a light bulb going off in my head. This for all of it's faults was my prayer answered a change in my life to change my stagnant life and give it some heat good, bad or indifferent. So watch for the answers to your prayers they may not be as obvious as we think they should be.
Watching the curtains flutter was relaxing,
window open wide letting in a breeze.
The evening air was warm,
and carried a fragrant summer smell
Intense and nostalgic
that flared up emotions and old memories.
And people in the gardens were laughing and drinking.
Lying down on a mattress on the floor in your dad’s room,
both naked, my pale white skin touching against your beautiful Arabic skin,
the colour of coffee.
A perfect mixture, sweet coffee and milk,
surely we were made for each other?
And you had your tiny arm wrapped around my waist,
your soft hand holding my chest,
and on my back I could feel your small breasts,
and your lips breathing hot breath on my neck,
I was almost asleep.
A man with a jet black tux
And hair combed over his bald spot
Stands in front of a window
The white curtains blowing inwards
Relinquishing all efforts
To love, and be loved
He clears his throat
Down into the gritty abyss
Whistling through the thick
As it descends slowly
Into the Bottom of its inevitable Faith
Through the deafening silence
You can hear its existence shatter
As it hits the bare pavement
One can only wonder
What he's leaving behind;
Tea brewing on the stove
Would you dare save a man?
From jumping out and into the arms
Of his concrete destiny
I'm standing in the back
Next to the guy who's sweater
Has been viciously attacked by Moths
And she walks in.
I'm not sure if light is radiating of her
Or the guys bald head sitting
In the front row?...
Gorgeous blonde hair drapes
Over her slender shoulders
Like the curtains
Flowing in my grandma's window
She's wearing converse
She's out of my league
The Cute Girl At The Poetry Reading
The nameless cute girl at the poetry reading
Shrove Tuesday. Meet me after school.
She had scented breath. Gordonstone
Said he’d fucked her. There was that
Look in her eyes. Her sister never had
The same way about her. The parents
Both taught at college. The father loved
Mahler and smoked a pipe. The mother
Had a taste for S&M and listened to
Country and western. Meet me by the
Bandstand and come alone. Bud went
Along alone. The afternoon sun shone
Weakly down. She was standing by the
Pond watching the swans. The parents
Are out tonight she said how about you
And me? Bud said what about you and me?
The parents’ bed we could if you like
She muttered. Bud wondered where her
Parents were going and would they be late.
Ok he said. They walked through the park.
The sun was going down. Her sister was out
With some schmuck at the movies. She took
Bud into the house. He smelt wealth and
Comfort. Want a drink? she asked. Bud sipped
At the father’s scotch. She gulped down the
Mother’s gin. How about you and me going
Upstairs to the parents’ bed? Bud swilled the
Whisky around his mouth. The cheeks burnt.
The tongue almost died. She took his hand
And climbed the stairs. The carpet was soft
And deep. Bud thought of sex most days.
Bud dreamed of sex. She undressed. Removed
Each item like some downtown stripper.
Bud once saw his mother’s naked butt.
He was off food for a week. Come on in
She said. Bud removed his shirt and pants.
The curtains were flowered. He climbed into
The parent’s bed. Maybe Gordonstone had.
She lay there inviting him in. There was country
And western music coming from the huge hifi.
Bud hoped she didn’t have her mother’s taste
For S&M. She hummed some country song.
Don’t be long she said. Enjoy she whispered.
There is no tomorrow. You’re a long while dead.
What is it to smile…
when the eyes you cherish
turn from you,
peering off into the distance,
seeking another sight,
encased in a theme
that does not include you?
What is it to desire…
if what you long for hides
behind curtains of pain,
blacked out windows
redirecting the sunlight
to a place
that longs for nothing?
What is it to breathe…
within a life that does not matter,
in full view of your imagination
crumbling like so much dust
beneath cushions of your heart,
mingling with lost change
alone in muffled visions?
What is it to love?
Alone midst my wayward thoughts, upon the caravel of agony
A storm among the twisted seas with wrath had drew upon me
Fastened between my linen sheets which purpose served me dryly
I shiver in the heartless night waiting for death to crawl upon thee
My wishes ever poisonous with malicious intent meant only to beseech you
To return as a creature of the night, but in spite the knife, the knife!
The one which impales with strife upon the meaning of fight
The weapon of an imp suddenly is thrust upon me meant to take a life!
But could I simply take this man, who's family awaits back in our mother land
Yet here he rests in sweet slumber and I must fear not to linger
Or be caught in the act of murder, my conscious flees me, my body violently disagrees
Is something so vital as this my right? But the choice is mine in hindsight
Before the curtains of the night, draw back and release the hellish light
Upon my skin revealing my plight, leaving me in clear sight
It is truly judgement I fear, from the devilish eyes of the venire
Ignorance flees, all is clear, the right direction, the path appears
For now at the end of the pole, looking thousands of feet below
I see a shadow of a man, and I know I am the one to go
I take my life.
You left me, untitled and unsafe.
I hope you can forgive me.
I never will.
There have been ten people like you that I have tried to help.
I forgive you.
At first, I hated you.
We were so close.
You just left me. All alone.
I know you never meant to hurt me. You thought it was for the best.
What you don't know is that every time you dragged that blade across your wrist you dragged it across mine too.
Your plague has pained so many.
What you don't realize,
Maybe you do now...
I don't know...
What you didn't realize is that when you killed yourself, you took part of me with you.
Each night I relive that moment.
The moment you hung us,
feet dangling just inches above the ground,
we feel weightless,
it's really the weight being ripped away from our shoulders.
The moment when we swallowed a handful of those brightly colored tablets.
Bodies convulsing as we reject them.
The brain still fights to remain.
I relive that moment when we put that barrel in our mouths.
Our brains, our emotions, our passion.
Across the walls, floor and bed.
The hole in our ceiling remains unpatched because nobody can fix the pain that that hole shows.
You were right...there.
I could feel you leave.
I could feel a part of me ripped away from me like a newborn from the mothers arms.
You never really left, though, did you?
You just dropped out.
My friends, you stand with me today as if it were still our last.
My arms reach out to show you how much I've missed you.
But they can't.
Every slice across my veins, every drop of blood is a tribute to you.
Maybe that's how I want to tell you that I'm sorry.
I still see you here.
I see you in my dreams,
my eyelids like curtains on this very stage.
I see you on my arms.
I'm sorry that I couldn't help you.
I'm sorry for everything.
I am not who I used to be now.
You have taught me morals.
You have taught me to love like no tomorrow.
You have taught me to love myself because that's your last surviving vessel.
I was meant to live in this constant pain.
Otherwise I would have died the eight times that I had tried.
I tried your method of problem solving.
You do something...
Something that I never could.
You keep me alive when all I ever wanted was to be with all of you.
My body aches from the parts that you stole away.
My head to replace yours.
Shattered across infinity.
My neck to hold it up.
It beats for you.
I have died ten times over.
I am pieced back together as a rag doll is.
None of this was ever your fault though.
I didn't stop you when I needed to.
I blame myself for the deaths of ten people.
I wasn't their reason
I didn't kill them.
I just didn't...