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By the shore...

.....i dropped wearily, on the sand...

"O, silent dragon, as you lurk, my cold sweat
....merges with a rush of angry waves
lapping ******* me...i'm a boat, that keeled,
i'm already scared as dead,
of something that can't ever yield."

i bit my lower lip, prickly with salty water
stinging my eyes...i'm all wet, with salty water
restlessly...alternately, legs are spreading,
toes touching tight......then crisscrossing
shifting positions...left, right, forward,  
then backward
thoughtfully lowering hand, feeling ****,

..."my poor weary ones, i'm sorry,
......for too long...i tarry
so much weight you carry."

sand was warmer where i sat,
above, a spinning atmosphere
i stood up...reeling....fell on my back
made a loud splash on that
afternoon's sea water...i was squinting,
my face, i was repeatedly wetting,
to douse panic that was clawing
on the heart....though the cold was soothing,
i knew...a red-eyed green monster was lying
beneath........keeping vigil.........waiting
patiently for me.......to relax my defenses,
then fall........and let go of my reflexes,
its fiery eyes, anticipating its success.

"o, am i but a coward? I sway, my feet sashay
i am very sane....and definitely, not lame
i know......myself,  i can never betray.
you and i, we've been watching each other,
for years........would this go on forever?"
::::::
"great fear, my old friend, why do you accompany me?
you pulsate in every corner within me
i'm too visible
too vulnerable.
i am farthest from the lips of the shore,
yet, i feel you, a monster, watching me from afar..."


intense fear...births a rebel
weariness takes over.....it opposes, it swells
takes a turn, throwing caution to the wind.
lumps of wet sand drop from gripped hands,
later, they'll be dry and loose again,
free.....and reunited with the rest.

"each time i struggle, i miraculously survive,
...like you, my green dragon, you persist...stay alive,
...ebbing, flowing with the waves.....in my mind,
............where, you comfortably hide......"

Sally

Copyright June 15, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
(feeling my waters on this figure of speech
  ....hope i did it right)
A creeper once was planted,
On a cold North-facing wall,
The gardener wanted her to spread,
To cover the bricks and all.

In the weeks that followed,
She strove her best to grow,
But the sun was so unkindly
And the frost so cruel so.

Alas, one day a child at play
Broke off her slender stem.
'It's no use' she cried
'I'll never grow again.'

But she was so courageous,
A brave, hidden spirit she found
And started sending up new shoots,
Directly from the ground.

One day she got her just rewards,
For all her courage and strife,
The gardener came and transplanted her,
To start a brand-new life.

Now on a warm, South-facing wall,
Where the sun kissed her all day
And the gentle breeze caressed her,
She grew and grew away.

She grew so strong and beautiful
And when the tale is told.
Her crown of joy was autumn,
With her leaves tinged red and gold.

Keith Wilson . Windermere  UK  2017.
You sneered at me because you thought I'd lied
and stared at me through drunken eyes of pain,
then waved me off as I tried to explain.
You turned away, just shook your head and sighed,
still unconvinced that I had not a clue
where she had gone since I had left her here.
You drove away, your taillights disappeared
into the driving snow, the wind that blew.
The same snow broke your fall as you collapsed,
but couldn't keep your temple from the bruise
that showed up three days later as you lay
in state but not in peace. I think I snapped;
I spoke to you, 'twas Dylan's words I used:
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears I pray.
Day 3 of NaPoWriMo.  Sorry, folks...I've written too many elegies and eulogies in the past few years.  Just not up for another.
A simple man is what I am
I went to no university
Or college of theology
And no doubt that's why I'm confused

It occurs to me, when we see
Leaders and generals of all countries and creeds
Celebrate their victories with smiling pride
Shouldn't they be weeping with shame
For all the innocents who've died?

They all believe that their god is on their side
And quite often, the same god at that
All down the ages, our venerable sages
Have killed, tortured and oppressed each other
In the name of the wishes of god

Now I'm just an ignorant sinner
So can someone please explain
What kind of god do these people believe in
That needs the destruction of his own creations
And all in his holy name?

                                                          ­­­  By Phil Roberts
Funny how insomnia
and discomfort will
dredge a new room
into a safe harbor
My wife's family
is a pack of wolves.
One will be chosen,
and the others pile on,
tugging and tumbling
the lucky winner,
looking like they would tear
the chosen one
limb from limb.
At day's end
they huddle about
the battered cub,
licking its wounds
and nesting
warm and huddled.

My family was crocodilian,
cold-blooded and
waiting in preternatural
prehistoric patience
for a spot of blood
as the excuse
to pull the wounded one
beneath muddied waters
and devour their own.
So I lay in the weeds and watch the families go by....
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