The Dedpoet

The Dedpoet Jul 2017

I sit down and freeze my pen,
I tear the unfinished poem apart.
I take a breath and open the shades,
I run outside to finish the poem.

Jul 2017

Sally A Bayan

REEDS

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I see young reeds on the marshy water
......with flexible stalks...softer...smaller
forcefully swayed by the ones taller...older
...squeezed in between
...no choice given
.....but to exist within

there are those that bravely stray
...even before the stiff ones get blown away,
.....out of the reedy confines, they peek
......curiosity and freedom...they seek

i watch these young reeds rise and totter
when the wind moves the shallow water
bravely peeping...finding their light,
...claiming their space....with traces of fright
.................learning to fight
...with every fiber of their might.
...they can't go farther
................than yonder
in restrictions, they'll find some wisdom
eventually, they'll discover true freedom

one day...their blades would be more defined,
toughened, honed by rain, sun, wind and time,
in their minds, my words would have to rhyme...

but, until then...i got to be taller
......sharper.....tougher
...flexible, but dauntless
i have to sway 360 degrees,
.......when the need arises....

Sally

Copyright July 12, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

.(sorry, i easily fall into the rhyming trap...this is about
my five granddaughters...changing, growing up so fast...)

#marshywater #stalks #wisdom #freedom #360degrees #reeds

The Dedpoet Jul 2017

Attack the Panic

The world is a marble
The size of a tumor
Inside the mind:

Breathe, just breathe,
I feel everything
All at once,
I delve in the paradox
Of the devil's advocacy,
You are all against me....

Ok....breathe....
The body shakes
Inside the child whose body
Doesn't recognise the man,
Sweet memory hits like
A punch to the gut
And remebering becomes
A fist fight.

You!

Who?

YOU!

And I speak to myself
Outside like some external
Ghost that carries all
That I never wanted to be.
Holding in and biting
My tongue off left the man
A little boy.

Night falls,
I chew my nails down to the
Elbow, where is the peace
I read in the poetry that
Motions I am not crazy after all,
I am alone,
Yeah Bukowski....
Alone with myself
And I cant stand that
P.O.S.

The Dedpoet Jul 2017

Pain

Stroke soft the curves
Of the forbidden servant,
Follow paths of the intention
And know not the rose touched
Is a petal in a cyclone:

**** the martyr
And feed the the dogs,
They serve a purpose beyond
Your grasp, under the foot
Of your heavy needs
And spiteful words.

Speak;
And the ***** do grasp,
They will not let the spirit free
When pain cannot be released
And the world would be great
If we could share beauty like
It shares its misery.

**** them softly with pretty works
And speak the réflection
Inward,
There you are,
You are what you say after you
Do the favor and the world
Is owed to you.

Oh pain.
Such glorious levels you reach
Within the ugliness of reflection,
How you see and how you feel
Is how you choke and how you
Hold,
Pain, all that can be remembered
Not in the moment,
But in a lifetime.

Jul 2017

bluevelvet

You Don't Listen Anymore

She'd build flowers and paint pictures
To remind you that she's still there,
Deep inside where you both reside now
She'd punch through all your walls
Until her skin was gone and the meat
Was tethered to show the blinding white
Of her still trying bones
She'd take her eyes out so you could see
Just how far you've made her go to remember how to breathe
And how important and the center you've become
And when she'd sweat and curse,
Feel like she isn't worth your love,
You'd dab the sweat off her forehead
And hold her tight to soak up the pain
That would shake into your vertebrate
That's made out of armor and would end their life
Because you'd never want her to spend another sleepless night

Jul 2017

Sally A Bayan

HERE, IN THIS SACRED SPACE

:::::::::::.................:::::::::::

Here, in this sacred space...
   :::::::::.............:::::::::
...where curtains and breeze
.....dance and tease,

...no words are uttered, i hear nothing
.........except my breathing
eyes roam, legs are crossed, as if to rule,
determined....as a stubborn mule

here in this sacred space, i have a regular
dialogue with my Creator....my Saviour,
     ::::::::::::::::..........................::::::::::::::::::
through His mysterious ways, He speaks to me
i am drawn to a quietude that flows from Him.
...........this noiseless space talks to me...
it's not the words...something else takes over
.....and enfolds me........especially,  when
fragmented moments start to stir my heart,
...i lose them all....when i hold my breath
when my mouth has ceased, my words on  a halt,
...........i am suspended.....far from the noise
.....................of the outside world...
:::::::::::::::
here in this sacred space, i am with my loved one,
         ::::::::::::::::..........................:::::::::::::::::::
though distant............the world is...ours,
we're in deep conversation that could last a day
we are ourselves, naked..wearing no false pretenses
...we are timeless...we are one...the two of us...
::::::::::::
here, in this sacred space...rich with
......an imperturbable stillness
..........my mind is overwhelmed
...by a silence.....so eloquent.......
   ::::::::::::...................::::::::::::

Sally

Copyright June 25, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

#sacredspace #creatorsaviour #lovedone