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There exist within this world,
Those who proclaim,
"I am a man"
They are men,but only in a physical sense,
These self proclaimed men decieve themselves ,
And will never know the truth ,
Of what it is like ,
To be a real man,
A man who lives his life,
By a set of morals and standards,
Set not by men,
But set by God,
Who created men,
To serve him,
A real man needs not to tell you,
He is a man,
You will know he is a real man,
Simply by what you observe in him,
How he speaks,
How he acts,
How he responds to adversity,
How he treats others,
How he loves,
You will know a man is a real man,
By the way he lives his life.

RLB
When the recusants stand before the porcine boor in fetters ...
As the Fifth Estate is flat lining around us , the Constitution
twisted till it finally shatters ..
The Military in pursuit of its own , bestowal of civil liberties shot
full of machine gun rounds ...
Bloodhounds bay with the scent of dissidents , storm sewers turn into
raging red rivers ...
When martial law pulls the rug from beneath our feet ....
When broken glass covers every downtown street ....
I will pray for something to take you down !
I will long for someone to take you out !
Copyright February 3 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
)))) fire (((
                 is:::::::::waning  
               red::coals::dying
           the smoke climbs up to the chimney
             the smoke goes out of the chimney  
              it:::::::::::escapes
              doesn'­t:::::::::get
              to::::the::::::eyes
              jus­t::::::::::::soars
                       to::::::the::::::sky        
              joins:::::::clouds
              leaving:::::ashes­
              to::cool:::::down
              blown:::::::easily­
                             by::::a::::::strong              
              w i n d :::::::::::or
               through:::::::::::a
               metal::::::::;:pipe
                airborne:::::dust
           ­      forces::::a:::blink
                it may::it::could
                bring::::tears::to
               ­      melt::the::cloud    
                 that::::::darkens
                                               ­       eyes::and::mind                                    
                 ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
                 it::::::is::;;;;;;:time
                 to:::::::::welcome
                  an::>>arrow::>>
                 of::fresh:::>hope
                 into::your:heart
                 never:::::let::::go
                  LIFE:is:precious
          ­       LIFE:::is:::::short
                                      inhale:­sweet:air                    
                  \::::breathe:::/
                   \::::LOVE::/
                   \::::AG:::/
                   \:::A:::/
                   \:::I::/
                   \N/
                   \/



         Sally

                     Copyright November 10, 2015
                  Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
the heart feels a gypsy
the mind a vagabond
the eyes get misty
by the lilies in the pond

bloom the petals pinkish
smudged with streaks of white
swaying slow by wind's kiss
glory displayed bright

upon the slender neckline
crowns of innocent smiles
fill all dark with sunshine
wipe out weary miles

o traveler feel the invite
merrily pause to respond
be a while in sunlight
among the lilies of the pond
inspiration: my cover photo
Sun is now cradled
............where it always dips...at dusk
..................seems within reach...of low-lying clouds...
.......................no more birds, butterflies...or other winged creatures

Another day spent...
........................but, the SKY, never rests
....................if not sun, there'll be a moon
................always, night...after day...after night...after day
...........a cloak of darkness has taken over
......eyes roam through the shadows
...recalling one by one...how the day went by

...can't help but smile, for chores and errands done
.........eyebrows are raised, for the ones yet to be finished
...............a sigh, with the wind blowing...for plans...and dreams,
.....................still unrealized....those that persist...but, just...cannot be
.........................i put them aside in shelves...at the back of my mind
..............................stubbornly resurfacing.....every now and then...

I wonder about the SKY
...............................does it ever get tired?......as i am?
..........................for, i now feel the late afternoon aches
....................my body, my thoughts get weary, at this hour...
...............but, i lighten up...when a full moon appears...
...........SKY is revived...a stationary beacon...a nocturnal smile
.......a sign...the night rules for a while...while everyone sleeps
...while sun gets busy, giving light and life on the other side

And i,
...always find a reason to be alone out there...
.........in the silence of a moon glow
.............a rocking chair awaits...
.................in the summer...a woven mat is spread
....................with both arms under my head,
........................i lie on a cold mattress of pebbles and grass,
.............................gaze at the heavenly  SKY.....recognize the bear
.................................the hunter...the morning star...or catch a falling star!
.......................................if i'm lucky, i'd be dazzled by glowing fireflies...

As i...
......................................am always grateful...for another day almost done
.................................and to unfold before long, is a new one
..........................time to finish what's left undone...a time for new beginnings
....................look forward to another day...and another.....and another
.............while i......remain unmindful
........of shadows watching......from afar
...of perils...............lurking........in the dark...

::::::::::
............
::::::::::::::Sally

Copyright January 4, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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