X X X

In some places,
monsoon season has long ended,
in other places, some freeze, some quiver,
bending their bodies, to warm their guts...
::::
the head aches....it swells, wanting
to spew, to set loose some things
as nature speaks....murmuring
its restiveness, through gusts of wind,
::::::::
the weapon....is impatient
its holder now alert, feeling sentient
but, unswerving...sounds are clear
hurrying footsteps  do not matter
:::::::::::::
hand stretches...grasps a sign
fireworks have come and now blind
..........an unprecedented high
an untold moment becomes nigh
an energy rares to be...needs to be
......and is now ready to be
::::::::::::::::::::
already atilt
snug within the palm, its hilt
sword has yet
to pursue, to capture...but is now set
:::::
:::::::::::::
...and when she began to write,

she did it with such elan!
mind, hand and sword, worked as one
catching bright, newly born ideas
writing them down, as quickly as
they came to mind...she started swinging
dashing...circling and criss-crossing,
black blood flowed from the tip of her sword
created lines, with defined letters and words,
captured thoughts......filled blank pages
with scenes of action, without traces of rage

............................
in moments of restless silence
............her poem was born....
...........
.........


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    July 1, 2018

I had begun to write the words
that I did not understand.  And
as I stared at the black pen
in my hands, I was reawakened.

You’re not a poet because you know those ‘fancy’ words
You’re a poet because every word you write comes straight from your heart

You’re not a poet because people admire your work
You’re a poet because you write for your own contentment and not for people's consent

You’re not a poet because you feel alone
You’re a poet because pen and paper are your biggest companions

You’re not a poet because you understand emotions better
You’re a poet because you let them flow freely

You are not a poet because you’ve failed in love
You’re a poet because you’ve been in love deeper than anyone else

You’re not a poet because you are strong
You’re a poet because you don’t hide your weaknesses

You’re not a poet because you can heal hearts
You’re a poet because you know what it means to be broken

When people ask me
Why poetry
Why not pick a paying profession

Take hold this truth
That I'm laying on you
In which there is a valuable lesson

If you do what you like
You're going to find
Life holds treasure in wonder

Instead of the dough
Taking you out in its tow
And then pulling you under

When you're doing things
Think more the gifts they bring
And not money to be made

When people ask me
Why poetry
Do I really need to say