I know of your flesh
Understand the smooth ways around your river
Meandering through your twin hills,
Into the valley of bliss

A peaking scream,
And a runner's breath,
To catch but a few,
Words between a sigh

Before, rolling again,
Into the chamber of literature
Where plays meet action
And romance colours the sport

Across a finish line
Where silence cheers on,
As the sky curves in,
To leave, but two beings,
Within, the petals of red roses

That song! That haunting song!
At twenty years of age,
Off his bed he rose
And to his window he went
There she was, seated in the swing
And singing to herself her lullaby.
It was always her favourite.

She lifted her blank eyes and held his
Those eyes sent shivers down his spine.
A ghost she was,
Why wouldn't she leave him be?
Yes, responsible for her death he was
But that was three years ago.

At thirty four, even after marraige
With three beautiful kids,
She still wouldn't leave that swing
Or put a stop to that **** song
He alone heard her
He told no one else about this ghost
But wanted nothing to do with her.

At fifty, she was still at the swing
Singing and swaying in the swing
She still looked sixteen,
But he looked frail.
He had tried to tell her off
But not a single word would she utter to him.
It was a **** gone wrong
A girlfriend in highschool,
Who had been adamant to give away her virtue.
And the overdose had killed her.

At seventy, an heart attack he had,
Right in the yard.
He couldn't breathe
And he couldn't cry for help.
At the brink of death, she finally left her perch
And floated to his dying body.
Only a sentence she whispered,
And it was colder than death itself.

**You were always my first love

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
when delirium is the only thing in my head
I don't know when I **** or wet the bed
my mouths can't open a tube in my nose
takes not but teases the end looming close.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
when my legs just wouldn't stand by themselves
can move me nowhere without a hand to help
I don't know when  I would fall on my face
flirts me but fails me that last cold embrace.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
when the marks of time are mind crunching pain
the ones around me don't see a gain
in the struggled breaths that force me to live
defer their tears to mourn and grieve.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
I beg to leave before my mind leaves me
before the loved ones ask wearily
O Lord why not spare us the agony
hasten the end let him die quickly.

Old eyeglasses on wetland.
Deep footmarks in cold sand.
Green tide takes all.
LazharBouazzi, January 11, 2017

old friends gather
tied together
by lines of
silver silk
memory

threaded from
heart to heart
embedded in thought
and action

actor trained
like the rhythm
of drumming fingers
on raked stage

toungue twisted greetings
bring saltwater to eyes
searching for the mentor

a congregation of etudes
belies, the sadness,
laughter hides the absence

shared memory,
memories shared
bring life into focus

years pass by
but still, the silk threads
play the heartstrings
and still we raise our
eyes in ritual goodbyes

and hug each other closer
til the next gathering
old friends remembering
the good times

(Haikus)

pale sky weeps stead'ly,
frozen tears soundlessly fall
white blanket...rises...

lone red-winged blackbird,
flies through dropping snow...eyes roam
.............towards kitchen eave...

blackbird finds shelter
whisks snowflakes off its body,
roosts..........and folds its wings...

a lone soul watches
smiles...as blackbird settles in
hot brew warms the soul...

(Dec. 17, 2016)



Sally

Copyright December 17, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

The water has a sound,
I've only heard
when I was by myself.
It tells a secret
The way the circles
Form and swirl.

Just for a moment,
I never knew you.

And never tasted
Disappointment all too soon.

These vast acres,
Remind me of days,
When it was just me.
The sprinklers
Would cry 
And I would run free.

Just for a moment,
The weight elevated.

And matters of life 
and death were left to fate.

But the sun lied to me,
When I looked at the surface,
I only saw the break of day.
I kept searching and searching
But I never did
Find my face.

Just for a moment,
I was never here.

The earth revolved easier,
The sky had less tears.

Only that tree
Shall mourn my loss
When I echo off of the rope.
The moon can take 
Where I left off,
As my heart shall soak.

Just for a moment,
You won't think of me.

From this soundless world,
I wish you can find peace,
Under the same tree.*

● ● ●

.
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Airs naught wholly bright as thee.

Is there a kneel for end of days—
Songs, deeds for those who prey?
Is there light breaking pied wings,
Or is heaven overlord to all things?

Sun spots feathering coated crest,
Talons top spires mountain breast,
When rivers of the wind fail all fowl,
What grace and splendour in a cowl?

Is there a psalm in the wailing winds,
A hymn that carries all innocent sins,
Or a fable, blue as stupendous skies,
A truest place where redemption lies?

The sea slides with lost ocean birds
And blue wings coast, row unheard,
Edging the skies with razors' tinge,
Seeding the immortal spark begins.

Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Naught airs wholly bright as thee.


                           *— after William Blake