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 Mar 2017
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.
 Jan 2017
SE Reimer
~

will the sun forgive us...
will the stars and moon
forget to shine, because
we slipped away before
the sun had slipped behind
the mountains tall?
or did they care at all,
that we had found
the deepest colors
in each other's eyes,
and uncovered.
earth-bound
heavenly bodies and
ev'ry softened edge
of two-body's heart's
fore'er entwined?

~

*post script.

if heavenly bodies could speak
might the tales they tell
uncover much we thought.
hidden so well?
 Jan 2016
Poetic T
We are all on an ocean of loneliness, when
We brush sails with another, that touch is
On the breeze and travels far

Finding the wind in our heart, we must traverse
Much distance to feel that touch in our sails
Once again. Moored when found in each's heart.
 Dec 2015
Nat Lipstadt
~~
Dialogue and Oratory Between
SPT and Nat:

~
At the Intersection of
Perfection & Beauty,
By Blue Candlight


~~~


come let us by and by,
soon meet,
under blue moon candle lit sky,
at this worthy intersection of
beauty and perfection,

be together,
contained,
yet unconstrained

let us speak of what
we see and sense,
come to come
to know,
of what does not appear
in this world easy readily,
what lies between
two points,
sharing,
needy of,
crossing destination revelations

It's said of beauty,
once uncovered and
gazed upon whole,
be visible only at the
bottom of the bin of the
picked-threw,
it was here, where, perfection
once was lost
and may yet now be found,
where souls,
singled and singed,
seek to find of,
the perfection lost,
the untarnished beauty
within ones self

from the meadow can be seen
The Field Where Wonderment  Grows,
wild is the bounty of colored beauty
then
and only there,
can oan one,
locate, judge and
accept
what never departs
a self


at the road'meeting point,
at our time and place
appointed,
arrived but come
disappointed,
crossed and creased
by the journeys
travels and travails,
burnt blind,
eyes by life's headwinds,
singled and singed,
and the mind disbelieves, doubts,
the existence verily,
of the locale,
beauty & perfection
from Feb. 21, 2015

Spontaneously combusted; collaboration by, SPT /Nat Lipstadt
'Twas for the first kiss
Reconnecting steps
Together filling spaces
A hallmark of events
Crossing bridges burning touches
Lacing fingers enhanced
A finality
Of our final descent

our smiles
connected,
a pathway molecular
a synapse over distance
thru mindfulness,
two poets embrace
their eyes closed
while opening for the last of the
first times

It was then
she embraced his voice
For not reading his words
For the first of the last time
Tracing his lips
Embarking eternal

lastly the first
was the best,
the fluids tasted
for the first time
we're the most pleasant
scars upon lips
that never forgot nor ever
obtain the same
sense of greatness,
though not for wont,
though not for want,
for such is nature,
Tis the first
that is the most
lasting

Please come back
I'll miss you ever more
It was just like that
I turned to look
And you were gone
Leave but don't leave me
I'll be here when you tire
On bended knee
Like pillars of strength
Surmounted by you
Together we shall
Be the bridge
That together bond
What could never be gapped
You and I
By time and space
Please, I beg you
Look back

look back, an impossibility,
the ******* word lock that joins two poets
at the lips, the hips, at the places
light never sees,
defies atom splitting,
defines the fire pillars
leading us through the dessert

No leaving what is yourself
Physics denies as a first principle,
the circularity of spontaneous combustion
cannot be severed ever,
and he lover/loved her from the first
teasing message, and the last
first poem kiss,
that closed their
sensual space

For they were each others first
And last
To leave
With a kiss
What words could never express
Spontaneously combusted
 Dec 2015
Francie Lynch
I can't but think of you
When those old familiar songs air;
As familiar as the friends we shared,
Songs we once grew old to,
That played as you ironed hair.
Tensions grew as the volume raised,
As your parents worried upstairs.
Songs of innocence, songs of experience,
Were on the radio,
And you'd find a station
In Daddy's car
As we drove back to school.
Lyrics I didn't know I knew
After all these years;
No photo could make you
More vivd than now;
Songs that immortalize
Those moments of our youth.
You tanning in the sand,
Transistor craddled in an alabaster hand;
The smell of beach on you.
Lips parted as you whispered words
To the ****** burning in me.
Then you dance close,
Your hair a symphony...
Some songs I hear
Are too much to bear
Beneath a firefly night,
When nothing came between us,
But the notes of songs we liked.
Blake's not the only one to have such songs.
 Dec 2015
ryn
.
O                                                                                  
•• i really don't see the need to                                
•• dictate•the way the dishes are                           
•• sorted in order in the sink •i                              
•• don't see the point in being                                
   •• irate• if the door creaks when you try to think•
    •• i can't tell apart between emotions you feel•sad-
   •• ness and disappointment, they look the same to
   •• me•i do not care  if it's mauve or teal•for good-
    •• ness sake, the  cushions...,  they look fine to me!!
    •• •well, i now wave my white flag and surrender
     ••                             • because all these  differences...
     ••                           don't matter at all•just know that
     ••                          i have sworn to love you forever•
••                                                      ­                          
••                                                              ­                  
••                                                              ­                  
••                                                              ­                  
••                                                              ­                  
                                        *even if you drive me insane
                                        and up the wall•
Concrete Poem 19 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
.
 Nov 2015
Nat Lipstadt
~~~
to whom do I address this?

to whom do I
forward fling, weep and sing,
this bequest~request,
prayer~***~worship~***~blessing~***~
howling
to and upon?

where shall I commence?

for there is no beginning or end,
resurrection,
a continuum,
a progression permanent,
from inside out
to harmonize, coordinate,
what the outside has taken leave to
inject, insert,
to our selves query,
our life hood very,
impoverish our senses
and still, and yet,
to ever inspire and seed
relief

do you possess that requisite
belief?

that all
that is illogical,
beyond sensory comprehension,
that all
is a steady running creek
of fluid starting points,
none that can be deflected,
nor forever held

that all,
being demands unchosen but acquired,
that all,
demanding constant reflection,
and realization
that the acceptance mystery is but a
molten crucible
wherein wonderful and awful
must of necessity,
coexist

so you alone must construct,
what chance desires to destruct,
weld the joints of new iron works that
require the bonding of a special solder
of asking and acceptance,
to be the special soldier
of acceptance
overcoming that which we can never accept,
yet must

be purposed to build high the edifice,
to stand upon the crane,
to look down on what
has been lost as well as
not yet gained,
and that
requires saving

to see the far, observe the near,
merging both into a single point ring alloy,
manufactured in order
to never forget
to be forever certain,
it is within our assured power
to comprehend and apprehend
belief in blessed resurrection

where there is no birth nor death,
no start nor finish,
just the
munificent satisfaction
of lawful acceptance,
that all we build of any matter,
that which we create,
cannot be destroyed,
but will be recreated,
for that is the purposeful meaning
of resurrection now
and every day forward


Atlanta, Georgia
Nov. 16, 2014
for E.R
 Nov 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
behind the shadow a distinct lost dream  
standing opposite of a long bridge
crossing through the middle cutoff
see the river flowing beneath

illusive calling but can't go
on the edge a dark sharp sign  
known voices floating over
echoing an ego which cover the shadow

how many days offset!
and try to touch the last sunset
still silhouette stands on the shore
what is mystic that always opens the door

the river bumping with waves
between the broken parts of the bridge
passing a phase of life on the ridge
yet subconscious grew a cohesion of dream
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

— The End —