Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Any song can sound sweet,
if you tune your tone appropriately,
and add a lyric,
with a melody
and I have seen where there is a life,
there is a song
but some songs are not only a love song
that notion was a loop, intense, black and blue passionate song
was not romantic

She was a sad song
and I thought I would know how to make it better
like if I could be the only to love her again,
I believed that everything would fall into a melodious love song
but  I lost a few lines of lyrics
and there was bit melody missing that I couldn't find
and I saw too many scratches on the disc
I couldn't let myself be made no longer
trying to fix her entirety.
.
@Musfiq us shaleheen
scratches on the disc
 Mar 2015 David
Sally A Bayan
It had been many years since I last visited....
I could smell the salt in the cold sea breeze
As it welcomed me and
Blew my hair all over my face.
I gathered my hair in a bun.
Thereupon, I caught sight of my surroundings...
A town, which  used to be a hub,
Has turned into a neglected, dying place,
Now rich with junk cars, old stores,
Abandoned warehouses,
Torn down wooden fences, old houses.....
Everything was old and unkempt,
Walls, broken glass doors and windows
Were marked, spray-painted with all sorts of
Writings, distorted faces, big and small letters,
In all styles, shapes and colors,
Whichever suited the vandals' tastes and moods.

It saddened me, for I knew so well...
This place had seen better days,
I had seen it full of life,
During my childhood days......
Days, when my siblings and I were
Forbidden to go beyond those breakwaters.
Crippled was I by my fear of the waters...still,
I longed to swim far beyond rows of big rocks
Where big ships were anchored, and
Colorful sailboats sailed along.....
Back and forth we ran, from sea to shore,
To see a starfish or  even a jellyfish,
Brought by the waves as they hit the sand.
We were content with knee-deep splashes
In that clear blue water, long ago uncorrupted,
Once so natural and undefiled,
Now, with traces of oil and all kinds of debris
All visible even from afar.....

I leaned on a wall, crestfallen.
I reflected on my life, and how
It paralleled with my hometown.
My heart and my mind
They have marked walls, too,
Wrapped with deception...
Wounded by betrayed trust....
Scarred by past experiences,
Sad and unpleasant ones.
And yet, here I was, standing on my two feet,
In front of this dying place,
Still alive, while my hometown
Had turned into a ghost town.

That moment,
I felt countless eyes staring  at me,
While a strong gust of wind blew,
Almost pushed me away from where I stood.
Like, it was begging me to go......
To leave my hometown alone,
And give my life a second chance....
But live it somewhere else.....

The cold sea breeze, once more
Brushed against my face,
Whispered to my ears
And pressed upon my mind,
Thoughts I had always resisted then.
Something was flowing inside me....
It was starting to fill my soul.

I straightened from where I leaned
And brushed away the dirt from my coat.
It was time to move on, time to go
I untied my long hair,
Let it fall on its own......and
Let it be blown by the wind.

.... Sally....


     Copyright 2013
      Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
 Mar 2015 David
beth fwoah dream
a moon-song
soft and delicate

a summer pond
and a thirsty flame

my jealousy of you
flowing like wine

the weeping stars
melting in the sea

a stormy night
sweeping out, sweeping out...

a kiss in the dark
as if the night blossomed

the pouring of a water jug,
the scattering of the dark...
 Mar 2015 David
CA Guilfoyle
Waiting
 Mar 2015 David
CA Guilfoyle
I am waiting for the spring, the change
the variance of green
waiting for you, a fool
swim, I drown in this moon-pool
dark down a tunnel of night
I make my way by braille
only to touch, to see
a rivulet of rain
before the sun
that swells of red
and strays away
the day, a heart
that long ago
fled
 Mar 2015 David
CA Guilfoyle
Wind and dark the night I pine
stark the grasp of longing
branched and vined
blue mourning
deep in soul
an echo
calling

When through my fingers
your hand slips
taste of your
fleeting kiss
lingers
drifts

Paper winged
when torn, I stutter, stammer
spiraling and falling
only in dreams softly sweet
once more a butterfly
brilliantly winging
 Mar 2015 David
CA Guilfoyle
When winter melts
footprints of mud, this path
now a screen of green
I cannot see, lost I listen for
calling words, the haunt of forest birds
cry, they call before the storm
deep a swell of rain pours
that wild, brings another Spring
mossy soft this budding floor
mist and petrichor that waft
attract, they meld and melt
sweet into the soul
 Mar 2015 David
CA Guilfoyle
Early, this silent earth
in the stillness before sound comes
before the sky, the narrow line of light that forms
my ears not yet attuned to this world
search for noise, waiting for the first bird
then soon a chiming bell of birds
a cactus wren that comes to drink of sun
or deeply sweet, the air with mourning doves
that woo and coo before the dawn
a soothing balm, a bliss that fills my head
 Mar 2015 David
CA Guilfoyle
Watching a turbulent sky
birds in the drowning clouds, cry
Next page