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



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I'm here dealing with the memory of our love every day
It feels like a pinch begging to be caressed until the pain is eased
But there is no physical area to be relieved
The ache is deep within and you left it behind when you walked away

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

That poem you wrote about me,
is my favorite of your works.
How could it not be?
That's the most wonderful thing
anyone's ever done for me.
To care enough to be inspired, by me.
To care at all.
But when you asked me,
I lied && said I liked another one better.
I didn't want you to think I was being arrogant.      
I care what you think.
When you told me that your favorite
movie trilogy was The Lord of the Rings,
I told you that I'd never seen any of the films.
What you don't know,
is that later that day
I went out && rented all three films.
I stayed up that entire night
watching them straight through.
I thought it would help me
to understand you better.
I thought it would make me feel closer to you.
I'm not sure if it did that,
but I enjoyed the films nonetheless.
I've always had a problem
conveying my emotions to people.
I convey all sorts of emotions,
just never the right ones at the right times.
Somehow it always felt like I'd be too vulnerable, showing people how I really feel.
For as long as I can remember,
I've always acted the exact opposite
of how I really felt. It felt safer.
I guess I always thought that if I showed another emotion, other than how I really felt, when I was ostracized, criticized, put down, for such displays of emotion, I wouldn't be affected by it.
After all, that wasn't the real me anyway.
Boy, was I wrong.
I now have enemies who love me,
because I've only ever shown them
kindness, so they wouldn't know
how I really felt about them.
I then have people that I would go
to the ends of the earth for, that believe
I hold a strong disdain for them.
I'm not quite sure how to fix this conundrum I'm in, but you really make me want to figure it out.

You once said that in your lifetime
you wanted to witness unrequited love..

A pin drops in the middle of Time Square
but no one can hear it
A grain of sand shimmers in the desert
but no one is there to see it
I am by your side hopelessly in love with you
but you don't feel it
So the earth turns like it always does
The seasons move along as scheduled
And those three things go forever unnoticed