I am stronger than I ever knew
I have found thanks to you
Change keeps coming at me
and I just let it blow right on through
I've made bad mistakes
but I don't have to admit defeat
To fight fear we must first take that leap
I might not have won the fight just yet
but I will never just lie down with regret
Change can be scary...
but do you know what's scarier?
Allowing fear to hold you back
No more expectations....
**I am responsible
for my own happiness :)

Colors, have ways of making us soar,
or fall.......they make us buoy...
they, too, can divide and isolate...
long ago,  a magazine
was colored and identified for a reason.....
also,
a kind of blue-sy music, upon which i groove,
...was named for the same reason...
.............a magazine..... a music genre,
became instruments...and parts of
dark and golden moments.......recalled
and enjoyed, every now and then...they're
painted.......registered in people's minds....

life is a magazine of stories, of  poetry...
life is a jukebox...filled with soundtracks
life is an album...a collection of smiles
...of colorful images and emotions
reddish brown at first...turning yellow brown,
with tinges of taupe.......mottled through the years,
turning...into fading shades  of sepia...

i refuse my late summer moments on earth
............to be done in Grisaille,
painted, only in tones of grey and dark green...
...it is written...one day, life would be hued with
subdued colors...the blues, silvers and grays,
...........will be cold as winter...

but, until then,
i'd rather be consumed with liveliness
i would adorn my days with peach and lilac
blossoms, hang fuschia pink pennants
on my wall....to brighten my disposition,
i'd practice...play the guitar once again,
i'll wear my ruffled, dappled-purple skirt,
and yellow converse sneakers when i walk on
the pavement....under blue skies that enhance
greens, and gold...colors that breathe existence
transforming weariness to courage...

wherever...whenever, however possible,
i speak, whisper to  God words of gratitude,
and endless thanksgiving...i  pray for strength.    
and acceptance........prepare myself...when,
.....i, too...would face my own moments,
...............of fading sepia.

Sally

Copyright August 6, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Little dreams
Tiny wants
And simple pleasures
Often get me through
The dark days of life

Life’s journey is made
Up of so many steps
And I dance through the day
When life is drenched with
Possibilities

But, it is
That soothing cup of Earl Grey
That feeling of clean
Or the desire to learn something new
Those little pleasures, wants, and dreams
That restart my engine
When it stalls
And I’m caught in the pouring rain

It is those little things
That allow me to
See beyond “lost gods and howling dogs”
To brighter climes
With endless skies
Of hopes and dreams
Realized

Kelly Rose
© July 27, 2017
“lost gods and howling dogs” from Phil Roberts’ ‘In My Mind’

QUESTIONS...

What if God was a solider,
if only for one day?
Would he put on his training boots,
chasing mortor bombs away?
Would he comfort the widows,
grieving for loved ones they've just lost?
Or would he just listen to prayers,
in a way their not forgot?

What if God was a solider,
if only for one day?
would he end the bitter cries,
offer strength to those a stray?
Would he march into battle,
on the front line day and night?
or would he turn to run,
knowing deep down he couldn't fight?

What if God was a solider,
if only for one day?
would he sit with in the trenches,
offering hope along the way?
Or would he just shoot his rifle,
bullets flying like wings of a bird?
Maybe sharpen up his bayonet,
for its shine shone across the world?

But what if a solider was God,
if only for one day?
would he clear the leading parties minds,
that seem to go astray?
He may share many of his stories,
his experience of war.
to show young men prayers superior,
to guns alone or more.

What if a solider was God,
if only for one day?
He would mark that day with memories,
pride and honour all the way.
He  would keep there minds open,
with all sense of brotherhood and pride.
Of loved ones lost departed,
souls drift on seas or tide.
Of fallen men and women,
so there always by our side.

Maggie Evans

A SERCHING SOUL...

How do I move forward, when I was told always to take a step back?
How do I break free, when my only view is through the crack...with in the walls?
How do I remain composed, when my minds racing on fast forward?
How do I relax within a crowd, that makes me feel so awkward?

How do I spread my wings, from within my dreams that set me free?
How do I find solice, when termoil calls for me?
How do I climb out again, from this hell that is my mind?
How do I find self peace, as my heart is pure and kind?

How can polar opposites, both live comfortably within me?
How can I douse hells fire, and set the devil free?
How can I protect others, when its a daily struggle to protect myself?
How do I keep this relevant, not left upon the shelf?

How can I quieten the voices, that lay within my mind?
how can two souls find inner peace, when quarreling within only one?
How do I find strength and power to keep postive scope?
How do I stay tranquil, when I've lost my only hope?

To these questions I cannot answer,for you I am so sorry.
But as you do please take life slow, try not to hurry.
'Cause when you find the answers, lifes usually close to an end.
But alone you are not,  find inner peace a friend.

Derailed again through twisted train of thought,
brings me to my knees,crippled through racing mind self shame to myself I've brought.
Faster faster it races on with non logical ideas to cause pain.
My head brings dark clouds fog thunderstorms with rain.
A tsunami like a virus it's spread, infected my very wake.
So I climbed off this faster carriage to try to give myself a break.
Numbing all takes every ounce of strength,
yearning within my very soul ill goes to any length.
Paralyzed with fear of family alone, if I suceed with ending it all.
Dead inside now a numbed feeling to help me cope, I feel sick.
These cold railway tracks rusted damp and twisted lay up ahead confront me.
I no i have to board again soon as this was an unscheduled stop,
no waiting platform for me to be welcomed  by a loved one.
Alone I fight it, legs heavy, each step forward weighed down by quicksand .
I have to rise, the world is spinning,
spoken words from others jumbled.
Unable to concentrate enough to speak words to form sentances not jumbled.

Again I board the train it gains speed,
the outlook from the window a haze of green as trees and field zoom past at lightening speed.
I close my eyes ,I can hear the rattling of carriages, the wheels grinding along the track.
clackaty clack clackaty clack.
So I sit back slumped in the corner of the carriage.
I visualise my life flash before my closed eyes within my mind.

It makes sense now, I need to filter the good the bad the ugly from my subconscious.
Clear my mind wipe it blank.start again.
Trapped within the comfort of this carriage I now relax almost feel safe.I've let go.
My destination is uncertain but I will not quit.
This steel coffin upon wheels that I once perceived to be the end slows,
cla ckty c l a c k cal ckty c l a c k.
it stops I disembark.

It's then I realize I am the driver of my own train of thought. me.
Me in the driving seat alone.me.
I can control it.me
I will do it me.
My life a new platform awaits me.
I hope it is all the positives I percieve it to be.
I can do this.me.
I am now free.

You stand so proud so tall,
a beacon for all to see.
You shine your light so brightly,
when the sun fails to light the way.
You stand guard, upon a craggy cliff top,
offer a guiding path to those lost.
A helping vantage point to prevent tragic depair.
upon stormy seas small boats are tossed and thrown,
upon frothy tides far below.
Prevent lives being ripped apart,
on rocks, the unknown fear by saliors most.
You are a beacon but fail to boast.
You know nothing else but to guide others.
Without ego, repression of self worth,
you no not of heartache, but are the heart.
You are not lonely, yet you are so alone.

Unselfish yet kept by the lighthouse keeper,
maintained by one that knows the importance of your light.
A pleasurable sight for many a sailor,
 when suns set upon distant watery horizons.
Offering a nurturing warmth,
a glow welcomed across blinding darkness to those that need it close.

You are the lighthouse in the storm,
the guiding hope across the sea.
You are the one to reunite sailors with family who are loved by most.
You are a beacon but fail to boast.

stigma a small six letter word,
but blocks the way;
to unconfident to be heard.
you beastly biased blighted word,
you block the light your so obsurd.

stigma stands blocking our path,
scared alone or scared they'll laugh.
you discust me with your devilish way,
blinding us all through night and day.

stigma move over;
let me soar or fly.
keeping tears blocked to afraid to cry,
I PRAY.

stigma should be shunted,
let's educate the world.
seeking help not stunted,
speak up with spoken word.
I SPEAK.

stigma you shrink and weaken,
as my pain with few I share.
confidence growing faster,
now eased enough not to care.
IT HELPS.

stigma I'd like to see you crumble,
like an old still dry stone wall.
you will never see me stumble,
a voice to listen to all.
A FRIEND.

stigma you no longer have the power,
to quieten us from the 'norm'.
it be boring if all the same,
unique from day us all born.
EMBRACE DIFFERENCE.

stigma now disheveled,
in future hope your gone.
knowledge giving power,
to show us all your wrong .
EQUALITY.