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 Mar 2017 Ami Shae
Sjr1000
Dog Walk
 Mar 2017 Ami Shae
Sjr1000
Higher than a kite
Reaching for the light
Higher than even
in the dream light

Higher than exploding
into crystal shards
Reaching even higher

Higher, until awareness
clicks in

Higher than the last dance
Higher than the last romance

Higher than a galaxy
fading on its a way
Bye Bye

Still higher still,
Until
Another day
Another dog walk in the woods
behind the golf course.
When the moon hovers hallucinated
on the post canal
breaking in bubbles of fish breath
the white widow of the night
revives her long dead tongue
to lick the scales of your skin
pulling you into her bed of nails
making love with you the whole night
leaving you bruised and insatiate
when they find your shadow
scouring the edge of the canal
with her name on its lip.
A night out on a village road in December mist alone with the shadow plays havoc with imagination.
03.12.2016, 9 pm
Leaves' dancing shadows on the piece of sun
missing the keen eyes
rebound on the vacant space.

The man played with shadows
weaving them into whimsy shapes
before most of them were pulps of paper
gone into the bin of night.

If not for light
would be no shadows
he was always churning in his mind
probing dark holes of moon
going into shady nooks
seeking playfully alive shadows.

The dead casts no shadows
he brooded
on the space he would leave

but he wished
they had
when he wasn't around.
 Mar 2017 Ami Shae
Sally A Bayan
(a second time posting)


T'was a short poem I was reading...
I had started writing
My comments,
When...
Along came a very strange feeling,
With very strange thoughts:

"This... has exactly happened before...
This poem...I have read before...
Written these very same thoughts before!"

Over and over, I blinked... had to make sure...
But, all at once... one brief moment...
I found myself seated beside a grand piano,
By a wide ostentatious stairway,
In a bright, candle-lit mansion...
But, stranger still, while I was writing,
My eyes strayed to my right,
To a mirror by the wall...
I saw a handsome young man,
With slightly long curly hair,
Wearing a long-sleeved, white ruffled shirt
And a pair of dark pants,
Holding paper and quill,
Looking back at me.

I was staring at myself!!!

I was holding the paper,
Where I had written my thoughts,
About a poem titled,
"....WILT...."



Sally

Copyright November 5, 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

::::::

             Below is Timothy's poem,
             the reason for my "Deja Vu."


WILT

The wilting of the flowers;
Ephemeral bubble bursts;
The last grains of sand run out;—
I wilt just like flow'rs.


~Timothy~
Dodoitsu.
© Timothy 30 July, 2013.
Unbelievable....but true...
   Some years ago, I was reading Timothy's poem titled WILT....
      I was typing my comments, and in a split second,
         I suddenly found myself there....in that strange setting.
H aven for those who’s words are never read
E ven though they pour their souls and very
L ives and spirit through their pens or
L et their fingers nurture beautiful tomorrows
O n the keyboards of their creativity.

P oetry is the blood that pumps
O ut wondrous magic from those fertile minds that
E nds up on a glowing screen or printed page, in hopes
T hat it can give birth to a long awaited
R ennaissance in the thinking of the world, and create a
Y earning for a better way to live and love.
ljm
Not real happy with this one.  May rework it.
At the rate we're going

I'll never have a happy ending

Never have anything I wanted

Because you always leave

This isn't a "maybe" but a "when"

I'm stupid for always coming back

For always holding on

But for nine years

I have tried to stop loving you

I have tried loving others

And none of it ever works

At eleven I believed you were
And always would be my soulmate

Now I'm scared that we are
And you'll never accept it

The question with us is
Who's being more stubborn

Am I, for loving you endlessly?
Or are you, for always breaking the heart of the person who would dedicate their life to you?

I'm scared of what the end
Will be

Because I always had a plan

I always had a picture
And you were always in it

I just worry that if you're there in the end

It'll be because I'm still chasing you

Chasing a love that can never be returned.
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