Walking home one evening , right as the sun was going down , coming back from a friends house just down the road ! The day before Halloween in 1974 , a boys imagination at ten years old ! Couldn't help but think of goblins and ghost , haunted houses , witches on broomsticks , scarecrows and pumpkin patches ! Thoughts of Headless Horseman and baying coonhounds in the distance quickened my pace ! I crawled under the barbed wire fence , the house a quarter mile ahead .. The driveway was tree lined and dark so I chose an alternate path through a cornfield , bathed in bright orange Harvest Moon , determined not to get spooked ! Focused on the ground , trying not to look around , walking faster every few feet , finally started running ! About the time I convinced myself that I was safe a covey of quail flew up around me in every direction ! I jumped to the ground to catch my breath , raised up slowly , took off again , ran like a swamp rabbit behind the barn , took off my overalls , threw away my drawers ! Off to the house , food on the table . Wash up , Grace , a hard fought supper !

There is not much luxury  
within the four walls of my territory
but, this is where steel arrows,
and sharp shiny daggers invisibly fly
i feel the winds blow...strong and gentle
though the drapes and blinds do not move at all
there's a lot to hear outside  
-------far and deep...into the night-------

from a not so distant place
i hear the cries of a newborn baby,
waiting...maybe, to be breastfed by her mother,
or be coaxed by the ****** of the feeding bottle...

there goes those softened footfalls on the street,
or maybe, just outside the house, could be next door;
a swish of air usually signals the onset
of the suicidal activities of the bats;
the eager voices of a family with their television on
waiting for the father to arrive from work,
brings a smile...

there's a mother, her daughter and son
discussing family issues over late dinner...
i hear the crying and lamentations of a widowed wife,
of a sick mother who was abandoned by her family,
i fight the urge to go out in the dark
upon hearing the soft whimpering.of a sick dog,
the muffled sobs of a lady neighbor, brokenhearted,
****** my heart without end
i would've sobbed with her...comforted her...
the silent weeping of an orphaned child
is hard to fathom...hard to ignore
........i even hear my own unspoken woes,
their wailings and mine, side by side
all heard...by the spirits of the night...

sounds seem the loudest
during these late, late hours, when
the rest are asleep, and quietude reigns
curiosity is so stirred, for
i don't...i can't see the source
of these nightly sounds

in the dark silence of the night
i hear...
...and
i write...


Sally



Copyright May 25, 2015---4:51 PM
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan



::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:::::::::::::::::::::::::

michael was a poet
from the moment he arrived
taking all that he was given
and putting it to rhyme

holding to the certainty
on the day that he was born
michael would take it all in hand
and live it out in poem

he would fill his days with laughter
letting sadness have the night
as it came in bits and pieces
in the poetry he would write

there were those that never understood
what brought his thoughts to mind
beyond the space he was living in
on another plain in time

dipping often in the rhythm
as his tide would ebb and flow
michael was a poet
and that's all he's ever known

There're endless ways to write
give vent to a joy or to pain
heavy stuff or childly light
sunshine or broken sky's rain.

It depends on the day the mood
good times or bad on the way
shapes the words your attitude
color them the way you want to say.

Endless are the ways to fill the page
rhythm and structure and rhyme
clear as daylight or a maze
depends how you're treated by the time.

You choose from the collage endless
words that may sadden entertain
when broken you may choose to show a face
that by lighting smiles lessens your pain.

Show me a man, that won’t lie to me
I’ll show you a man, which I’d rather be
Show me a man, that won’t lie to her
I’ll show you a man, which women prefer
Show me a woman, who can be my friend
I’ll take that woman, to love till the end
WIZDUMBs BY JA 615