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 Mar 2015 David
Lucky Queue
cold
 Mar 2015 David
Lucky Queue
I am a cold creature and cannot speak.
The words solidify before they reach my mouth
And I choke on my own breath.
I am a cold creature made of ice and bone,
Stiffened by harsh winds thrown against me
Yet fragile to a breeze’s grazing touch.
I am a cold creature with numbed feeling and a distant gaze
And cataracts chilled to cool perfection,
Floating on murky brown pools of exhaustion.
I am a cold creature whose heart and eyes once held flame and fire,
yet there is still an ember’s glow.
8.17.15
its been floating through my mind for over a week so figured i might as well let it take form
i think it's kinda pretentious sounding but ian likes it
 Mar 2015 David
Ocean Blue
April, she first saw the light
June, she appeared in the night
July, she left town
After five thousand moons got down
Suddenly she was back
May, I told her my secret
June, she told me how she felt
August, she said all this should be forgotten
September, apparently I was forgiven
October, she was part of my autumn,
November, she was already on the run.
December, she said no good bye
Leaving me on the road side.
She is an April girl,
Who made my life a whirl.
Now that she is away,
Heartbroken I follow my way.
Inspired by Laurent Voulzy's song "Une Fille d'Avril"
 Mar 2015 David
Ocean Blue
You have done everything
For me to hate you.
But, Darling,
You can read in my ink
That I am unable to
Hate anybody,
Especially you.
This is how God has made me :
Just to love you
Endlessly.*

<3
How would I hate such a loving person anyway?
 Mar 2015 David
Sally A Bayan
I never got to meet my father...
He died when I was nine months old,
But his presence, I always felt
While I was growing up,
Even up to this day...

He would often visit me in my dreams,
Told me not to worry or despair,
Took my hand,
Told me I could go with him..
Which I almost did...

A few times, in high school
I felt a light push on my back
When my Home Economics teacher
Almost caught me nodding...I was
Too bored, to focus on her sewing lessons...

I was always saved from falling
Each time I climbed the guava tree...
I feel some kind of force stopping me,
Standing ahead of me,
Whenever I cross the street, even now...

My late aunt said she found me
Looking up and giggling
When at three or five years old,
I played by myself beside
My father's tall and sturdy book case...

I see his face when I go through
His dwindling collection of
Edgar Allan Poe books, including his
Law books, and a few western pocketbooks left,
All, with mottled pages now...

The matrimonial bed he shared
With my late mother is still in use...
His portrait is hung on our wall...
Today, the fifteenth of June, his birthday,
I look through his eyes, and-----

In silence, I greet him,
"Happy birthday, papa,
Happy Father's Day, as well."
In my mind, my father lives,
And my own stories of him therein dwells...

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***Happy Father's Day to all fathers here on HP! ***
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