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A flicker of a candle flame
As I studied the photos
You held the same pose
The same single smile
That same spark ran wild,

But all of that was yesterday...

I looked at your photo,
Unable to recognise each one
Just a face that I thought I'd loved,
Each thread conjoined with
A personality I couldn't remember,
Each stitch attached to a smile,
All the same yet unfamiliar.
You became an embroidery,
The fabrics of faces that stands
As facades and coaxed of one
single emotion...

GUILT.
HER
Her voice
Did not sound good
It sounded like music
And music was meant
To make your heart race
To make you forget things
While at the same time
Remind you of the past
And help you live in the future.

Her eyes
Were not beautiful
They were like the sunrise
and the sunsets
set on making you feel
a warm glow
and a shine at new beginnings
as well as beautiful endings.
The wind whispers its song in my ears
Like the leaves of a cherry blossom
Gently touching against my face.

The light comforts the place of your hands
Like the soft feel of rose petals
With the alluring scent residue.

The warmth seeps into my mind
Where the thoughts of you
are properly propagated,

The love I feel in my heart
Is nurtured by the beautiful
portrait that is you.
To someone special
want to know something?
I loved you
and I told you I loved you
but now im not sure
sure if I would recognize yor face
sure if you would recognize me
im not the same person anymore
and I doubt that you are
I do not evade
Nor shun
Visions crude
That come to aid
My drafting pen
And chaperone
To creativities den

Cause I know
Yes I know
My darkest thoughts
Will form a poem
Why is it that pain makes one creative, or does it just make you more expressive? I often wonder. Is poetry a coping-mechanism, or a sharing-mechanism?
Smoke-screened pain from a distant day wafts into the present,
?charring my lungs with the ash and cinders of a resurrected past.
?Each breath brings a blister of remembrance to the surface.
?Yet, I continue to inhale the flames deeply.
Unaware of the fueled and fattened pyre beneath my tethered feet
that is beginning to smolder.
The vapors of your charm slither up my bound body like a constrictor, tightening it’s grip, gliding swiftly towards the tasty bits.
?I have no defense against you.?
I see the spark of my destruction reflected in your eyes
as the fire consumes the fodder.?
I surrender to being engulfed by the licking flames.
Left to burn, bound and gagged by my inability to resist  your spark.
?After all, I am flammable.
Every death
I have felt, or known,
In silence, i mourn,
Within my breath...

No words come upfront
Just thoughts, preponderant...

I'd feel the freezing cold of an empty space
Feel the absence...clearly imagine a lost face
No smiles, spanning from cheek to cheek
Eyes, seek answers...
suddenly, I'm there by the shallow water of the creek
While some nearby creatures quietly chirp...and squeak
While I......... I could not even speak...

Living,
Is realizing...and accepting
At the right time, they turn brown, the weeds...and reeds,
But, under the water...waiting, growing...are their seeds
Brown ferns...are almost detached from a mossy concrete wall
With a strong current, and wind, they'd be carried...ready to fall

The driftwood lying by the shore...is always wet, but petrified
Brown fallen leaves, on the green grass...no more hold...crisp and dried,
The dead bark of a tree...in pieces...are crumbling...
Merging with the wet earth...in a process of fertilizing
Deep down under ....a fresh spark of life is starting.
All these, remind,
Life and death stand side by side,
That in the midst of death-
Something new is birthed...
When faced with death,
there is always someone's living breath
And, as long as the heart wills to beat
Then, life.....will still exist.

Hundreds, or a thousand times,  
We all have died
In the high and low of life's tides,
Physically,
Emotionally.

We remember
Those who have left
Those who have survived..are still around
We think of those who are next to leave,
Waiting for their chests' final heave

---And then, we think of ourselves---

Worry not of our own time
Make each of our remaining days
Be golden, beaming, and bright
With good deeds, and straight pathways

The earth is a moving circle
It makes a round.......as it spins
We try to live outwards....and then, within
Any way we live it...life is an endless cycle.


Sally



Copyright March 23, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***A  HAPPY  EASTER TO EVERYONE!!! ***
 Mar 2016 Regina Ramble
katie
clear
 Mar 2016 Regina Ramble
katie
You peel
back the
        skin
& we are
the same,
hearts
     beating
beneath flesh,
       organs
translucent
as scaly fish
beneath the
        surface
of a lake,
life clearer
now judged
by the
weight of
        a soul,
almond
shaped versus
deep bowl
too heavy
          to hold,
things obscure
before stand
        clear as
stars pressed
         against
the night sky,
as your red
twisted veins
hand
in hand with
           mine.
i.

Today, O' today
I got her letter in the mail;
Filled with pictures of mine
Queen, she sent me
Poems done by me, in her
Calligraphy.

ii.

Today O' today
I got lipstick kisses on
Her notes, the red stood
Out of all she wrote;
As her amour was
So fine.

iii.

Today O' today
Anon mine spirit's soared,
That fashionable vellum
O' I adored. O' Jane Sardua,
O' Jane of Earl. O' rose of Asia;
The Luzon's pearl.

iv.

Today O' today
I smiled again, because mine lover,
And mine best friend. Her ardent sonnet
Displayed her touch, grabbing mine soul,
In heaven's blush, silently tear's came to
a rush; from joy's overtaking.

v.

Today O' today
O'er the blue, I made mine stay.
Consatero, ah veray,
Queen Jane, Queen Jane,
Of Asia's praise;
Today O' today
How I fell in
Love again.


©,Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou)
Vellum- smooth writing paper...
Anon- at once, or immediately.
Blush- not of embarrassment... Meaning as of color...
O'er- over in archaic form .
Consatero- is a word I created meaning... ( blissful in sound and color)
Ah veray - is another word or words put together meaning- ( venerated ( meaning regard with great respect) and elevated in honor and glory ..

Note- I made this poem about the amazing love letter Jane sent me in the mail. The old fashioned way of sending love if ones far away how it used to be sent and still should be sent. Though everyone's so inter-web connected now they've lost touch with humanity in themselves and others... As big reason I took break from poetry sometimes we need it. Now I'm back. Plus I've been sick lately and not doing best but I'll be OK with God with me... Jane sent me a lovely envelope an envelope I've never seen before with a beautiful skin texted layer... Her handwriting is so beautiful, and her message in the two page letter touched mine soul where I did have tears because seeing how much she loves me really makes me feel blessed again and again daily!!! And she sent me three pics... Older ones. One of her as she was a little girl. One during elementary school and a later one... Alll so beautiful and queen like!! And she is a well know calligraphist and getting better by the day. Though really a starter shes already professional as she's getting professional lookers looking her way ... Calligraphy is the old fashioned style handwriting practiced from long ago. Like the beautiful old way of writing you used to see in poetry. She sent me poems that are mine own poems though handwritten in her calligraphy!!! Such a gift it was as I was very down yesterday and this was a pickmeup!!! A blessing!! And a treasure I will cherish until we meet and beyond!!! Thank you so much mine Reyna Jane... Soulmate... Best friend!! Lover...alll... My àgapi mou. Zoi mou, anasa mou!!!m se letrevo queen!!!!!

Note - wanna follow Jane and her calligraphy on Instagram you can find her I believe at yellow_majesty or Earl Jane sardua maybe that is try Earl Jane Nagley... But try yellow_majesty first. Also Earl Jane Nagley on fbook. To ask her for info on her calligraphy... As she needs support ... Thank you friends!! And thank you for all of your support!!! (:::
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