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Larger than life
The paths we make
The voices we follow
The positions we take

Politics and religion
Impact our minds
Poetic prisons
Hearts on the line

Coming and going
Haunting like ghosts
So many issues
We dare to approach

Each of us
A means to an end
Blinding lights
Burning dim

On into tomorrow
These torches we pass
Surely these fires
Were not meant to last...
Traveler Tim
Re to 10-17
"That's all I can say"
You said.

I told you that was okay.
"No worries."
I didn't know what I wanted you to say...

Okay yea I did.
When the day was dying
I was back to the market.

The last time I was there
haggled with her over the price.

She wanted to sell high
I wanted to buy low.

You win she said at last
I bought high
but have to sell low
.

I knew she was lying.

This time she wasn't there.

Someone said
her man had left for another woman
and she hadn't since been seen.

The deepening evening hung like a dagger of pain.

She was never good at bargain.
Eyes chanced upon a brown object
Nestled on  a crowd of multi-colored subjects
A bunch of dried and fresh leaves,
Small, thin and soft spikes of twigs
And I wondered.....how on earth
Did fibers and strips of polyester sack
Get included in this mix?

One would think it might fall, and be slung
But it stayed put, steady, where it hang
I was trying to figure it out:
A cylnder, at first thought...but I had my doubts
I realized, it was a crooked oblong
And, from its opening on one side, came the soft songs
A small part of which, was attached
To the thorny Bougainvillea branch.

Strange.....for it was small...yet steep
A human hand could never go deep
You wouldn't think it could contain anything
And yet...inside it, were resting
Three tiny eggs...warming
And eventually, would be hatching.

Soon, the Red Palm and Sweetsop trees
Buzzed with activities
Birds of many kinds, watched, upon the bay window eave,
High on the electric cables...they perched and wouldn't leave
To and fro.......high and low, they flew
The air was filled with bird sounds i never knew

Soon, too, soft tweeting was heard
Along with the louder chirping of the older birds
Then came that morning, when, a birdling,
Eagerly, tested its wings,
Then fell off its nest
Down to the roots of the Red Palm tree
Where it almost met its final rest...
Suddenly, came to the rescue, two big palms
That put the birdling back inside its home
And reinforced the nearly displaced nest...

Both birdling and nest, were put to a test....

Today, other birds fly around this once busy space
Where life's significant phases
Inevitably took place,
Lonely and deserted now,
For the birdlings are fully grown
They're  now flying on their own...

From my rocking chair, I could see
Among those entangled twigs
Hidden among a crowd of sprigs
Still ably rests
An abandoned strange nest
That once told the story
Of an Olive-backed sunbird....and its glory...


Sally

Copyright February 18, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

^^^^^^^^^^
 Aug 2014 Charles Casanova
Nicole
The love is lost
only hurt remains
at too high a cost
it drives you insane.
Your heart yearns for love
but all your mind holds is rage
and when push comes to shove
they're never on the same page.
Once you're together
that "love" has run dry
though you say forever
it's nothing but lies.
Yet as soon as he's gone
all you want is him back
you admit that you were wrong
then the process reenacts.
This is a rather old piece, probably written 4 years ago when I was still fighting myself and involved on and off romantically with my best friend. This pretty much explains how my mind seemed to think around the situation, despite the fact that I had realized that I do only like girls; I was fighting my own self and hurting him in the process.
 Aug 2014 Charles Casanova
Era
Words
 Aug 2014 Charles Casanova
Era
All the words you couldn't say
Crawled in under my skin
Devilish, found a way to pinch in
Heavy with their absence, weighing

All there was left was me fighting mine,
scratching the walls i put them in, confined.
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