(Secret Place)
(love poem# 2)


There's a very special place i know.....so calm,
so peaceful, with its Caribbean blue sky,
made bluer by light orange streaks...nearby,
a stream of silver water, flows gently...its tune
relaxes the mind, for, simultaneously, a breeze
blows softly...touches my face, arms, like a kiss,
a cold brush against my skin, that wakes, and
holds still, my wandering mind.....so i'd notice a
heavenly garden....with fragrant blossoms and
tamed colors, to soothe my weary eyes, my soul...
it is a haven so private...only for me, to go to...
yet... i see you there...where i hide my dreams,
my private feelings, my dark moments, my doubts,
my fears, my enlightened moments, you know them
all, spot on...without me telling you...we are mates,
you, me, we fit into place, in every space...even in the
small recesses, and holes of our souls, we silently agree,
doors i have long closed...feelings i've tossed in the dark,
you sensed them all............we...are two hands clasped...

this has become our secret haven, our sacred place,
here, where we surrender ourselves to each other,
here, where we share quiet moments all alone,
here, where started, and bloomed...a dawning,
here, where, all our eyes, all our hearts longed for,
we now behold....we now feel....we now embrace...


Sally


Copyright February 4, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

I forget worries and cares
The unrest in the world I see
When I look at fields and flowers
When I behold a tree

I forget what nags a day
A sigh, a tear and cry
When I see a galaxy of stars
A golden moon in the sky

I forget jarring cacophony
The discord and the strain
When I hear a stream gurgle
And the patter of summer rain

I forget what ails the heart
With the breath of the breeze
It soothes and calms the spirit
It brings quiet and peace

I forget worries and care
When in Nature's company
Disarmed by her gentle wonders
Her beauty and her melody.

In the market I'm a popular man.

So very nice they say
he doesn't even ask the price.

I'm the sellers' good mate
they decide the weight
or rather the mass,

So very kind they say
he's the buyer top class.

I'm the sellers' idol
the quote they call
I pay

So very good they say
he's our man every day.

They decide the rate
decide the weight
even the item

while my mind thinks of a poem.

That was the last time I'd ever see her happy again. And the second time I lost her.

The secret of my energy
can be found in my false libido,
unwanted erections,
vibrations on the
inner-city bus.

My blue collar life
with a white collar tongue,
tried pyramid schemes,
tried working for the right thing
on the wrong side of the bar.
Worked on my oral ***
until going down was an art,

worked on my poetry
in the hope I could ******* through
the empty spaces,
clear absence of a career path.

The secret of my energy
can be found in my distance
from anything or anyone.
The secret of my energy
can be found in my contempt
for telling those I care for
about who I love
or what I ate for lunch.

Tried drinking green tea,
meditating by the ocean waves
until I sang the ballad of the sea.
Tried tuning my guitar
to the point the strings would snap
in the hope of portraying emotion
my talent had always lacked.

The secret of my energy
can be found in my distaste
for positivity and pessimism,
for conservative thought
and overdrawn liberalism,
for whistle-blowers
and tone-deaf singers
of flag-waving anthems
and golden age dreams.

Tried holding my hand to my heart,
pledging allegiance
to red wine, white skin, and blue truth.
The secret of my energy
can be found in every idea
I had reached out for
only to find that in my pursuit

I could only become the sum
of all that I knew,
of all that I was,
of all I outgrew.