cmy: Favorites

Sep 2013 cmy

Sally A Bayan

My breath smells of coffee....
Several cups
I have finished already.
This is one of those nights,
When my thoughts I have yet
To turn into verses....
They are all too shy to come out,
Refusing still, to be revealed.
While I wait for the empty cups to be refilled,
A lonely moth circles the lamp and me.
On and on, I tap my pen on the table,
Til I've scribbled something on paper.
Still, the moth goes round and round,
Circling my face, very near my mouth.
The light flickers as it wanders near...
I wonder if it's the lamplight that calls
To the moth
Or, is it my breath that smells of coffee...

Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Sep 2013 cmy

SHIBASHI AND THE TWO LOVERS

Sep 2013 cmy

Sally A Bayan

SHIBASHI AND THE TWO LOVERS

I see them everyday, rain or shine,
Beautifully lined in a row.
They all stand tall, mighty and proud,
To prove who the mightiest is.
And yet...they are always so,
So graceful in all their might.

As they wave to us,
We, too, Wave our Hands By the Lake.
While Expanding our Chests,
A cool breeze
Brush against our faces.
Our eyes  follow our hands in
Painting a Rainbow.

The morning sun seemed not too bright that day.
The branches and twigs above us were
Intertwined, like two lovers' hands
Laced with each other.
In Parting the Clouds, we bring light
Into our visions, our minds, our lives.
We let go, focus on what's ahead of us,
While Weaving Silk In The Air.....

And in Rowing the Boat, we revive ourselves
With a breath of new life....
We reach to the Heavens to offer
Our healing palms when Sage Presents Peach.
Our spirits are lifted, we see light in
The dark, as we Gaze At The Moon.

From above, the wind blows,
The leaves touching ...caressing, as the
Wind Rustle Lotus Leaves....we give
Our healing touch to all that surround us...
Their movements and ours flow
While Waving our Hands In the Clouds,
Scooping The Sea, and Viewing the Sky once again...

Rolling With the Waves, a  time when our healing
Energies combine with the powers of the water....
When the Dove Spreads Its Wings, we open our arms,
Embrace these blessings, we share them as well....
The restlessness in our mind and spirit, is
Now hushed by the healing silence.

The Dragon Emerging From the Sea, unites
The breath, the  heart and the spirit...
We now prepare for The Flying Wild Goose,
We raise our arms, getting ready
To let go, to let ourselves be.....

With palms facing each other, they
Circle up, sideways and down, resembling
Windmills Turning In the Breeze. We balance
Our weight on each foot, like Bouncing Ball
In The Sunshine, enjoying stability deep within us...
And as Nature's Fragrance Drifts Up,
We take in the many gifts that surround us...
We are now energized........

We knew our movements by heart,
Did each one with grace,
To the beat of the swaying above us,
We forgot all our worries....
We forgot all about time....

Suddenly, flecks of tiny petals started
Falling over our heads....
Like a shower from Heaven.
It was time to bow our heads, in thanksgiving,
For all the countless blessings.
Eventually, the ground was covered
With green and gold.

Once more, I looked up to the Heavens
With much gratitude....
I thanked the two big shady trees
That sheltered us...
They were two lovers....
The ******* and Narra trees...........

Sally A. Bayan

Note:

Shibashi is one of the many movements of Chi-Kung.
It is composed of 18 healing movements.
The notes on the movements were taken from the
personal journals of a Franciscan nun, alive to this day, and the mentor of my own mentor.

------Cassia Fistula is the scientific name of the ******* tree.
------Pterocapus Indicus is the scientific name of the Narra tree.

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Jul 2013 cmy

Where Have All the Days Gone By (villanelle)

Jul 2013 cmy

Seán Mac Falls

Where Have All the Days Gone By (villanelle)

Where have all the days gone by?
What once was new, now is made;
Night is falling, close my eyes,

Now, the moments softly cry,
The light has clouds racing away,
Where have all the days gone by?

Fresh and verdant the gentle tighs,
Summers sweetness up in blaze,
Night is falling, close my eyes.

What once was truth now is lie,
After rains shear loss of May,
Where have all the days gone by?

I hear the hush, leaves that die,
I fear what the swan has to say,
Night is falling, close my eyes.

Awakened to such sad surprise,
Spring was such a fleeting haze,
Where have all the days gone by;
Night is calling, close my eyes.

Apr 2013 cmy

Haiku ( glazed )

Apr 2013 cmy

Seán Mac Falls

Haiku ( glazed )

Rain wells in soft eyes,
Droplets drib by the windows,
My lips on her cheek.

Mar 2013 cmy

In the Pool of the Lost Maiden Song

Mar 2013 cmy

Seán Mac Falls

In the Pool of the Lost Maiden Song

IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG

                1

Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks
And dreams the dreamers story he has lived.
Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters
By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown
Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss,
Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps;
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . .
Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount.
Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout,
And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing;
Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.

                2

Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail
And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides
Assail and chop the collected bones they drop;
It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments
Wake and a ******’s salty sermons shake;
Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping,
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the seeker, he is seeking . . .
Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors,
Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria,
Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers,
Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.

                3

Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush,
Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread,
Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true
The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering
Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness
Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside;
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the lover, he is longing . . .
Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes.
Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape.
Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes.
Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.

                4

Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps
And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward
Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto
Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning
Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids,
Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world,
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the doomed, they are crying . . .
“****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis,
Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness.
Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss;
The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”

Feb 2013 cmy

The Valley

Feb 2013 cmy

Dylan Forrest Griffin

The Valley

Walking through the valley she sees the leaves fall to the ground beneath their trees,
but as she went to pick one up the wind blew them all away.
And so began the wait again, to land another day.
Suddenly, she is crawling, blind, across the living ground,
searching for her vision staring blankly all around.
Again the wind disturbs the leaves, then saunters on it's way.
The birds sit silent amidst the trees because the branches sway.
Or perhaps to see the leaves away, she freezes with a certainty.
The sounds are vivid, the smell is that of things long grown.
Now she slips and turns a stone,
the taste of forest green perches on her taste buds.
She shivers, unsettled, and rests her body beneath a stoic tree,
the eyes of the forest settle upon she, in anticipation of revelation.
In the darkness, she savors the sweet touch of the spring breeze,
with it rustling a thousand leaves.
She is strengthened by the swaying rhythm of the ancient tree
and so she rises up off of her knees, and through the sensations ceases the need.
And she sees!
To completely perceive she must live like the leaves.
So she, so relieved, knelt down on her knees
And freed her true essence to ride with the breeze.