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Late hours of a Saturday night,
the shadowed man
toyed with his sax, and played
a beautiful excerpt from,
"Silhouettes,"
soon, it skillfully...beautifully
segued to its main piece,
"It Was Almost Like A Song."

the space was scarcely lighted,
there were whispers, yet, all listened.
eyes were glued to the darkened face
of the shadowed man.
they hummed,
as they held their glasses of wine.
some softly sang the lyrics.

the pieces he played each night,
were journeys,
he took his audience
cruising along a boulevard,
drenched with the blues.
that unfathomable sadness
in his eyes spoke
of a brokenness,
louder...than words.

there in the dark, as he played his sad
songs, a face always accompanied him,
a face he longed to see,
somewhere in a cold place,
who had so much love
and warmth in her heart.

while he finds comfort in the shadows,
he often asks himself,
"until when will i be playing this song ?
until when, will i be,
in the shadows?"
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:::::::::::­::: 🎼 🎷🎷🎷🎼 :::::::::::::

sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 28, 2021
#sax #silhouettes #almostlikeasong #shadowedman

“eye now know
the how, when, where and the-why,
my Eyes compose this elegy
memories of past and present...
blending into memories of future happenstance”

what is chosen is believed
though the choices are presented -
I choose among the sacrificial burnt offerings  

this, my will is free
though the path is circumscribed, ordained

the bus has a route it follows,
but the speed and timing  governed by
chances made by me
and you
me and random things spliced.and sundered

get on me
get off me
get

What does this life desire of me,
that it granted and
then removed,
the knowledge of perfection?
leaving me striving,
writhing,
shivering unceasingly,
in my saddened, bursting,
hacking and hackneyed chest

)
(
(
)
☕️☕️

   
I wonder still, if you'd enjoy milked tea,
well, i'd let you....while i sip my coffee
let's gaze eye to eye and let things be.

spaces and times are not always comfy.
let's maximize, talk as we walk leisurely,
in spacious perimeters of the mind...saying
"us," and "we," first times, unconsciously,
a sight to behold, we surely could be
let's allow our feelings to unfold, shall we?

maybe, as we dine,
maybe, over wine.

by a shady banyan tree, we could stroll,
or bury our feet in the cool sandy shore
eyes and hearts are nourished lavishly
our souls, enriched generously,
as we devour the sky's infinity

we go back, refill our cups...would yours be tea
again? mine, this time, would be rummed coffee.

I soar, when our thoughts travel synchronously
sometimes, though, we're like a broken poetry

some parts of life simply cannot be changed
and i, definitely, refuse to break a chain.

and i start asking questions unceasingly,
which later, turn to crumpled poetry...
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:::::::::::
::::::::(another silly love poem)



sally b

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 20, 2021