Easy to get lost in the maze caught in a daze smothered by your fear of failing way too often afraid. You'll never find an out by staying stationary stuck inside where faces vary singing songs about your wings you caged canary. You can perish living scary being cavemen only ever made the situation hairy while the others roam the prairie abundant in fruits and dairy and you're getting blessed barely 'cause you only look to pray when fate treats you unfairly.

Vivid in your face
without class or taste
We waist away the fruits and replace
with man makes
Like brutes
on a never ending search for the truth
& comfort in places
that give our senses no use
Eventually we lose
trade awareness for the news
And over time we learn and
find our way back to recoup

We are curious for purpose
But terrified of reflection
When the Gods are self respected
Watch the Conscious get collected

I pray we make connections
Via perfect imperfections
What is God? Who are you
That's an answer not a question

Living for the physical
Is a spiritual death wish
Patience is the lesson
when your faith is being tested

And fate just has this fetish
For placing what we regretted
Right back in our lives
For another chance to relish

A poet writes
about truths,
what is, and what is not...
a poet writes about nature,
people....the sun, moon and stars,
a poet dares to feel...to see the whole world...


A poet writes...
to vent his/her own shares of  joy
of agony...and aches...miseries...afflictions
as well as those of the others'
a poet reads...sees through someone else's eyes,
face...words...voice...and actions...

A poet writes,
to euphemize the sharp truths and facts in life
make them less painful to the ears
to at least, soften the pointed edges of every trial...to hurt less
to pad the impact of a fall...from frustration and despair
and, through words...encourage one...to rise...when fallen...

A poet writes
to cite reasons...so a hurting one would believe again
have faith in life...in love...again
to reach out...to those who have gone far, in the dark
and take them back to the fold ...of the bright side...

A poet writes...
to tell the woes of those oppressed
the world over
those tortured...violated...and killed
of children abused
their future stolen away from them...

A poet writes
of how nature has been exploited...and maltreated
how human beings
would one day disappear,
how nature...would be around.......no matter what...

A poet is sensitive
observant
and vigilant...
A poet is compelled to see and tell all truths...
truths of yesterday...those that are here now...happening
and those of tomorrow.....and beyond...
All these,
A poet must write...
...nothing more
...and nothing less...


Sally

Copyright January 3, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan



[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[(())]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]­]]]]]]]]]]

In all the lives we've met and in all of them we fall in love
this kismet adoration has created a knot in time
no matter the bodies our souls inhabit
we will find one another and love
and love
and love
and love eachother every time we meet
the era we're in or the life we live will not matter
we will find one another like a recurring dream
happening every time our bodies seek rest
every time our minds seek peace
for every instance we are apart
our incessant hearts will cry
cry so loudly each time we lose one another
their cries will continue on until heaven hears this echo of foreverness and does this feeling justice
allowing for us to love freely and to love whole heartedly and to love
and love
and love
and love to the point where time becomes insignificant
because the seconds no longer look forward to being witness to the hours
they will beg to become witness to our love
and love
and love
and love everlasting