Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Jun 11 · 80
Freedom
Sally A Bayan Jun 11
(my world)

Azure sky domes over clouds of cotton white,
freshly washed clothes on the clothesline,
sway freely to summer winds...sun is bright,
so generous...............it hurts my eyes.

through a rumble of overgrown bushes, i enter,
my hair, nose, fingers, elbows get tangled
in spiders' webs...i step back, leave their corner
freedom is well-guarded...fortified is their world.

in a nearby school, the flag waves with dignity
national anthem plays...its lyrics vow loudly
to preserve precious freedom...faithfully.
school scenes slow me down...but, i hurry

now, home to my own freedom, my world,
my world...a safe bubble, like...a microcosm,
a microcosm long existing...a secret world,
a secret world i frequent when i need to,
when i need to be...alone, creating poetry,
...creating poetry on life's nitty-gritty
...and trivialities...

inside my world, muse eases the tossing,
turning mind...helps shape scenes to a tee,
lets me go rhyming.....or free versing
in couplets, sonnets, a dirge, or a ditty...


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
June 11, 2020
(I wrote of freedom, because tomorrow, June 12, we celebrate Independence Day in  the Philippines.)
May 31 · 72
The New Normal
Sally A Bayan May 31
Within the confines
of areas quarantined
people hold discussions,
hued with apprehension

murmurs
about new songs,
play in the air
they're actually old songs
given new lyrics  
same life..reorganized
new ways...introduced,
to be etched
into our minds,
our systems
for how long?
it isn't yet, known...


stubborn minds say
abrupt!...harsh!
unbelievable! yet,
we will soon be
transformed...
new themes, new
styles, new clothes
different styles...

topics on chats
reverberate
in peoples' minds
they have been pulsed
and repulsed
will they soon be enforced???
true???...or false?

to flow, or not to flow
with the new waters
poured into our pools?

the choice is obvious

some old habits
have to die

if this "The New Normal"
could ensure our safety
and lengthen our lives,
.............why not?
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 31, 2020
May 23 · 110
Breaking Silence
Sally A Bayan May 23
(morning twilight)

\0/    \0/    
\0/    

In the drowsy stillness of
morning twilight.....when
feet are still huddled beneath
a light cotton sheet...the urge
to get up is not too strong
the bed, a hammock of quietude,
is comfortably warm with body heat.
this is the moment....fresh sounds
fresh air, fresh ideas, renewed hope,
all come in...all flow cool and smooth,
joining this civil dawn's atmosphere
......................
i emerge from a peaceful inertia
from this stream of calming thoughts,
rising..........breaking silence...........
......to be at the helm...as usual
........................................
..................­.........................
fried hungarian sausages for breakfast?
...grilled bass and eggplants for lunch?
fried chicken, fried fishcakes for dinner?
with sliced tomatoes and cucumbers?
...................................
is there enough bread, rice, water,
meat, fish to last for the week?
in this lengthening pandemic?
..............................
........................­.
coffee mug is still half-filled....slices
of fried plantain stare back, begging
to be eaten, as chicken, veggies, fish
recipes razzle-dazzle in my mind
a normal moment in my mornings
.............................
oh well...am pouring more coffee
☕️☕️☕️
....................
que sera, sera


Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 24, 2020
4:34 AM
(Just woke up...and wrote this)
May 15 · 401
Better Days
Sally A Bayan May 15
Orange and pink hues of sunset
are nowhere...rain pours
trees are talking, leaves are fighting
the violent wind...the shutting of doors
and windows startle...and disturb

no more candle lights on the altar...prayers
have been said, tinged with whispers and
hushed giggles...the tingling of china and
silverware float in the air...the radio is off,
no more worrisome news.....what's left is,

a soothing feeling....the cool wind
makes the curtains dance...a sweet
silence breathes outside my room...both feet are
flexing...relaxing on the bed....waiting for

midnight...to end another virus-stamped day,
the rainy dark comes with a sacred stillness,
we're not over the woods, yet...but, it would be
nice to hear about less, and more:  a decline
in cases, a flat curve...a rise in recoveries...a cure,
a vaccine would disable the claws of the
evil virus......meanwhile, we keep the faith,  
as we wait...and look forward
to........better days...
>-<
tomorrow is another day.
>-<


Sally

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 15, 2020
May 8 · 741
SHE
SHE
Memories of this lady never leave my mind.
she wasn't a rider, but acted better than one,
riding high above many hurdles in life...fear
never took her away from her responsibilities...

when the fuse in the main switch gave
way, and dimmed the old house, this lady
braved the dark...armed with a flashlight
and pliers, she replaced the burnt fuse with
a new one and brought light back.....each
time the old-fashioned flat iron overheated,
she easily replaced the glass-like insulator  
inside, so it could right away be used again...

whatever needed repair---garment, tools,
the fence, the house...ripped, or with holes,
she mended and patched...even blind-hemmed
a torn relationship once...yes, she mended
cracks...was always in the midst of broken
vases, gluing pieces back together, so she
may put water and lovely flowers in it...

nothing was impossible for this gentle lady...
she moved mountains for her loved ones,
always persevering and ingenious, life
became less difficult...she painted their
young minds with a mix of hues,
so they may appreciate and be
grateful for rainbows and yellow sunrises,
learn to accept black, gray, unhappy moments,
and be thrilled by fiery orange sunsets....

this lady is indispensable...and irreplaceable,
SHE, and others like her, are called mama,
muter, mom, mum, majka, inay/nanay, mae,
matka, madre, mom....ahh, the list is long...


Sally

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May, 8, 2020
(SHE... was our late mama.)

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL THE MOTHERS AND GRANDMOTHERS OUT THERE!!!
Apr 29 · 109
Cabin Fever
Sally A Bayan Apr 29
/\  /\  /\  /\  /\

There's a need for more space,
i feel a lack of fresh air...mostly
carbon dioxide permeates the
inner atmosphere...

grown faces, bodies, voices,
are seen in most corners of the
house, mingling with older ones,
trying to get by, in their own way...

there must be space for house help
sleeping over...i am human, a mix of
selfish, conscientious and unkind,
but it matters that tonight, all are safe,
what's good for the lot......prevails

when the death of each ECQ day is at hand,
when i'm satisfied that all are okay and safe,
i go to my room and concede to its persistent
calling...to free some of my cramped thoughts...
i sit by the window with a lamp's glow, i part
the drapes...and let cool night air envelope me,
i take my time, drifting on blue waters of serenity
as daytime's cabin fever vanishes....temporarily...


Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 29, 2020
(ECQ- Enhanced Community Quarantine)
Sally A Bayan Apr 22
: (   : (  ---  : )   : )

Eyes have opened
i am wakened

now longing for steaming coffee
to shrug off lethargy, and anxiety,

shortly, the severity of today's statistics
will air...how do we fight inner hysterics?

we watch, side by side, real and fake news,
we've plunged deeper, there's more to lose,

we miss fresh air, our jobs, our daily income,
in desperation, we ask, "where art thou, freedom?"

while medical and non-medical front-liners,
tackle and battle another corona-ed 24 hours...

morning birds' tweets, the crowing of rooster
blend with the riotous hum of the old washer

eight dogs chase a stray cat...one is ahead,
while still biting a piece of tasty 😋 bread...

i hear somebody sweeping...clearing
the backyard from the dogs' doings


my morning
  is ongoing 😷





Sally



©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
  April 22, 2020--5:30 am
Apr 13 · 165
White Shadows
Sally A Bayan Apr 13
ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ̀ˋ

Bulls' croaks are muted this rainless night,
crickets are done with their song...
no contentment reigns in this warm silence
where human fears reverberate, in the
still of this crazy summer month...

amidst this foggy world, white shadows exist
they witness silent struggles inside hospitals,
outside houses, at the forefront,
serving...even there,
where shelterless people hide,

white shadows know despair felt by the
sick, separated from families and friends,
white shadows know when anxiety and fright
settle in the air...they feel when death is nigh...

i strain my eyes in the dark, searching for light,
yet, nothing flickers in this dark navy night

"where art thou, fireflies?
where could you be convening
this moment of uncertainty?...tonight,
i think of your shy, quivering dots of fire,
braving the darkness...as i think of  
these selfless white shadows...facing
every fearful 24 hours......come fireflies,
share your light with them, especially,
reveal your magical glow, though briefly
we think of none, but depressing poetry,
days and nights seem an eternity..."

here, in this foggy twilight world
white shadows hide their tears
their fears, dwell behind their masks...yet,
no one is invincible...white shadows die, too.

may this fog melt, and fall like rain,
may this prayer be, not in vain...


Sally
©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   April 13, 2020
(in honor of our tireless, selfless front-liners)
Apr 8 · 293
Isolated Thoughts
:::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The plague is actively claiming precious lives
with its deadly droplets...sadly, not all survive
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::
we are holed up in our own homes
eager to feel back, airs of our known norms
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::
not easy to be without human interaction
though distantly, we fulfill human obligations
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::
quara­ntine, or isolation isn't only a solution
it's a path to meditation and self-evaluation
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::
refuge in solitude, is what we seek,
it's when we hear our inner voices speak.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::        
::::::::::::::::
this is one
unprecedented lenten season
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
there's no end yet, for sickness, and death
in fear, we anticipate.....we hold our breath
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::­:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::­:



Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   April 8, 2020
The sun has become harder to bear
this late April morning.....under
a perfect blue sky, the sun is bright as ever,
it slightly ****** the skin,
grass takes all the heat but is just as green
and still sways to the blowing wind...

we're showered with many tribulations,
bombarded with dim scenarios...revelations

of despondency, death, desperation,
......and of man's evil inclinations...

fear and confusion filter through holes
and tiniest crevices of grounds and walls,

we make do with small corners,
just to create spaces apart  from each other

we hear warnings...talks in apocalyptic
tones...we learn of events cataclysmic,

yet, we ignore earth's stormy winds and waves,
telling us.....begging us to change our ways.

we breathe, we can see, we have ears
clearly, we choose what to see and hear...
........................................................
­.......................................................
.........­.................Spring's sky is all over,
but, the lilt, the spring feeling, is nowhere
.......................................................
.­......................................................




Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 5, 2020
(forget the beach, be safe on home shores
  lest you get the virus and.....be abhorred.)
Mar 29 · 197
Hello...Goodbye
Sally A Bayan Mar 29
It starts with HI! or HELLO!
a timid eagerness slowly rises...and implodes,
then, comes a wary handshake...lo and behold,
both smile shyly, as sweet conversation follows,

they move on, naively basking in the novelty
of, "us,"...tasting sweet waters of "you and me,"
expecting things to turn out well...eventually...
a seemingly inane anesthaetic created by love, allows
heart to be pricked by thorns...painful, deep, slow...

for some couples, the magic wanes and dies,
damning...dimming, love's bright sunlight...
the hurting one, rather than cringe,
struggles.....copes with sharp fringes
...............................of GOODBYE...

yet, there are lovers who strive,
they give their all, and determinedly survive,
day by day, they rise from the wrong and right,
and are able to laugh in their years of twilight,

recalling first Hellos, when love was a sweet lullaby,
combining efforts, to never ever sing "goodbye."


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    March 29, 2020
Mar 25 · 118
Through Dreams
Sally A Bayan Mar 25
I wonder what in this world
could ever be worth a thought
from you, or me...if it were not
about love........if it weren't
......because of love...

long, long hours of late nights,
make me think of that huge  
world that parts us two,
boundless lands and oceans,
i span them all, to be with you
.....just......to be with you

my wings take me to neverland...
there, where all my dreams are fulfilled,
where grass is always fresh, never dry.,
where sunshine never hurts my eyes
and skin...no immeasurable seas and
boundless lands...just cool streams,
and fields of green, gold and amber,
and by the bend is where love resides,
you're always there...i never have to wait...

yet, I know my truths...just a taste,
just a preview of my own prairie,
.................my own Utopia...
a few minutes of being daft,
.........................why not?


Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 25, 2020
(pardon the mushy write, fellow poets, it's my way of coping
with my fears...seems the virus is closing in on the whole world.)
Mar 19 · 152
As If
Sally A Bayan Mar 19
As if,
...wrapped in strands of golden thread,
shining...atop his spotless white steed
this knight came right to my front scape
as i stood by the garden...wind blew his cape
even as sun shone bright that moment,
sun, gold and white almost had me blinded.

his blue-greenish eyes stared long
as if he already knew me
as if he was to swoop me
as if i needed rescuing,

but, in a swish of wind blowing,
his golden cape flapped...shielding
him...he and his steed's muffled neighing,
were swallowed by the leaves' rustling

he vanished...in a few second's whiff
as if, gobbled by the wind...t'was so brief
something i forgot...a thought made me stiff
oh...what a waste, what a shame,
i didn't get to know my knight's name...

Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 20, 2020
(a work of fiction)
Mar 18 · 277
Perhaps
Sally A Bayan Mar 18
Almost no vehicles on the road
instead, there're long queues of people
filling the sidewalks...more batteries needed
for thermal guns to check temperatures 🤒
before they are allowed to pass through...
perhaps, first times are really unpredictable

people are in panic...buying more than what
they need...ignoring the needs of their fellow
human beings...perhaps, crises make people
selfish, greedy...we are being indifferent 😑

it's like, the virus comes from a chimney
exploding its black, infectious smoke
throughout its immediate surroundings,  
and far, far beyond borders

perhaps...nature is trying to call our attention
perhaps...we don't care, the world is crying, "help!"
perhaps...God is speaking...we just refuse to hear...


Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 18, 2020
Mar 12 · 68
*Song*
Sally A Bayan Mar 12

(of Solomon)


On starry nights,
i think of the comets and meteors
that graced the starlit skies of past nights,
of falling stars, as i uttered my wishes,
and remembered sweet words spoken,
like a love song...

"you are my sun, my source of light,
my moon...my accompanying glow at night,
you are my rainbow,"
to hear you say them, was just divine...

feelings and people may not live long enough
but love....is stronger than death...

i refuse to acknowledge a lukewarm, or dying love
dwelling embers might just need to be fanned
no anger, or raging fire, must consume one's heart
after darkness from a broken heart, loss, or pain,
always comes the light...as promised by God...


* "Close your heart to every love but mine;
    hold no one in your arms but me.
Love is as powerful as death;
    passion is as strong as death itself.
It bursts into flame
and burns like a raging fire."

   *(Song of Solomon 8:6 -- Good News Translation)


(From an old poem...edited)


Sally
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 10, 2020
* "Close your heart to every love but mine;
    hold no one in your arms but me.
Love is as powerful as death;
    passion is as strong as death itself.
It bursts into flame
and burns like a raging fire." *
   ***(Song of Solomon 8:6 -- Good News Translation)***
(a biblical passage close to my heart)
Mar 6 · 166
Conduits
In distance and in proximity...in despair
and joy...in existing and in dying...in the
bliss of love reciprocated, and in the pain
of love unrequitted...verses dance and call,
awaiting......

poetry has its own pulse, its own heartbeat,
it calls, taps the shoulders any moment,
awake, or adrift, it just can't be ignored...
even in a tangled, or weird circumstance,
it sparks like a bulb or a comet, curving
in a rainbow...riotous some days, teasing, fleeing,
then, turning up at unexpected times and places.

in every bit and breath of life, in every seed,
in every drop of dew, in every ember burning,
there is poetry birthing, growing...

deep within us flows green, purple, red,
glum gray, darkened inspirations...fleeting,
but, when time is ripe, they linger long,
giving us time to capture them all
.............................................
we sense them...we give space
we speak them, or we write them,
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::we are conduits:::::::


Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
February 11, 2020
Feb 22 · 90
Early Morning
Sally A Bayan Feb 22
Splinters of thoughts bombard my half woken mind,
.......and pressure consciousness to settle in...
a mix of muse and the devil's intrusion
disgruntles....ruins cold mornings' lethargy.
inspiration fights desperation...
the aroma of a hurried mug of instant coffee,
brings clarity, and defines my situation...
i slowly blend in...interact with my real world
table is decked with the remains of steaming
fried rice, and ham and cheese omelet...
footsteps rush towards the gate...
goodbyes are uttered...school bus waits
instant coffee's gone cold, i think of freshly brewed,
...the grinds of a new day......has just started...


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
February 22, 2020
Good morning to everyone!
Feb 9 · 217
Diff'rent
Don’t be mad...hate not,
when works are badly thought of;
you have your own mind,

diff’rent...from the rest;
you think, you create diff’rent
as they......do diff’rent...

your style manifests
your values and opinions,
your words mirror them...

your free verses and
haikus...earn their own sparkle,
draw their own audience...

tinged with black humor,
or mild sarcasm...it's YOU!
your style defines.....YOU!

we’re a world of poets
diff’rent folks with diff’rent strokes
we sting......stoke..........we touch...


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Decmber 12, 2019
Feb 4 · 78
Some Days...
.......melancholy is impossible
to deal with...it enfolds you, and
messes with the day's pressures...

........and why is it, that,

on some days,
sad winds just don't whisper,
sweet, blissful thoughts take shape,
and arrest painful memories...then,

a smile suddenly graces my face...

thereupon, flows ....remembrance,
old feelings, old faces come back...
once spoken words of love, of wisdom,
create an atmosphere of calm...

feelings that couldn't be writ
become unposted poems...they drift
in dark waters of an inner hell,
........... keeping truths to tell,
.........................raring to be read
to a distant heart...praying they'll be heard
one day....when on the same grounds,
....where unruffled moments surround,
when closest, and feeling the warmth
..................of our every breath...

some days,
sad realities and sorrows are silenced
by faith and hope...good times dance,
creating sparks in the dark firmament...
.........like dazzling meteors and comets,
we temporarily forget painful moments...
...........
..................
.....................
.­........................
........................................­..
(a sudden bout of sadness, and of being silly :))
ahh, it feels good to be silly at times.....to be free!)


Sally

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
September 16, 2019
Jan 27 · 232
Starting Over
Sally A Bayan Jan 27
^ ^ ^ ^ ^

As December ended...as January
slipped in...as new year's fireworks
soared and vanished in the atmosphere,
newfound energy, renewed courage, and
fresh opportunities entered the scene.

we got to let go of old, stubborn ways
and attitudes...and welcome new perspectives,
new methods, new faces...with open minds.

in little ways, we go on celebrating...showing
gratitude for being endowed with precious life,
for birthdays...ours...our loved ones'...near or
far...we remember, with fuss...or, in silence.

February is calling
it's never too late to start over,
to open our doors to new beginnings, any
time, any day...let us enhance, let us celebrate
precious life...let us remember...let us move on.

Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 24, 2020
Jan 20 · 82
Ears
Sally A Bayan Jan 20
@  @

They're very near the brain
they're on both sides of the face;
not too far below,  throbs the heart...
these vital gifts were given to us, so we
may hear...be able to grasp what's being
said......especially, when our children are
the ones talking, speaking about school,
their fears...their dreams and goals...what
interests them...we must encourage them...
and even when they scare us...when we can't,
don't understand their ways, because they
don't agree with ours.....kindly pay attention,
hear them out...their voices, their reasons,
not just what we want to hear from them...
we drive them away from us...by imposing
our own choices on them....let us be their
guides, their friends...give them space, to
find themselves...mold their own identities...

why force our children to be Einsteins,
when they're meant to be....Shakespeares?

Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 14, 2020
(pearls of wisdom gathered from my granddaughter's career guidance day)
Jan 16 · 160
Heroes
Sally A Bayan Jan 16
They stopped,
from what they were busy with
and rushed to where they knew
they could be of sevice..to rescue,
lead to safer grounds, those driven out
of their homes, their lands...those who've
gone thirsty, gone hungry....gone cold

some quickly sent food and other goods
some brought their physical presence,
didn't care about their own safety...volunteered,
and joined those who trod on the mud
amidst widespread ashfall, imminent
tremors and ensuing eruptions.

it was selflessness at its peak...
.....some have died while helping,
some are still there....serving
..........alleviating suffering

they got no wings, no superpowers
no red or blue capes, no web-spewing wrists,
they're God-sent angels, armed with love and
concern...understanding for human suffering

i call them......H E R O E S...


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 16, 2020
Jan 12 · 625
Frustrated...
Sally A Bayan Jan 12
In a sea of enthusiastic voices,
a dominant voice prevailed,
in an effort to command attention,
he inquired:

"Are you...
a frustrated doctor?
a frustrated lawyer?
a frustrated actor?
a frustrated engineer?

are you...
a frustrated nun?
a frustrated linguist?
or, a frustrated biologist?"

i met the eyes of the speaker;

."simply frustrated,"
was my unuttered reply...


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 11, 2020
(I went with my grade nine granddaughter  to their career guidance day)
Jan 6 · 324
Seasons
They're often cliched, yet always uttered
the real essence of the quote, "life is short."
struck me, as i was clearing my jaded eyes...

the “winter of life” is how they call it,
when your numbers are higher than those
on the calendar...when doing the stairs
shouldn’t be rushed, for, slowing down
is not a choice...but, a must.
:::::
despite challenges and changes that
overwhelm, there's this sprightly feeling
that still breathes within, like second skin,
as short hair, sneakers, skinny jeans and
t-shirts are to me...age hasn't weakened
this longing for adventure, this wanderlust,
unaffected by tedious procedures and
long queues at the airport...
:::::::
like a cat...i purr not, while exploring,
Yet, always wary in the midst of curiosity...
still wondering what's beyond the fence, or,
how to cross traditions, or, sensitive issues,
without displeasing, or hitting a raw nerve...
::::::
much to do,
much to see, but
   not much time...
::::::
at this point in my life, i feel, life is short(er)
the weeks, the months could be no longer
days turn foggier, or hazier, yet, it's not at all winter,
here, in my own space, it's always summer, where
short hair, jeans, tshirts, and sneakers are bestsellers,
where numbers, wrinkles and sags don't really matter...
:::::::::::::



Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 3, 2020
Dec 2019 · 616
Rap-Tap
Sally A Bayan Dec 2019
(The Chaos)



Sing your blues in rap,
let restive feet start to tap,
rap'n tap your gripes!

a touch of humor
should lighten..ease discontent,
learn to rap...and tap!

words and steps can rhyme
find tempo ’midst the chaos
chin up......rap, then, tap!

in the Christmas air
rap your blues...sky will hear, as,
heels, toes ...touch the floor

the world suffers, too,
find ways to save our planet
speak...dance...let's rap-tap!
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::


Sally

Cop­yright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
December 24, 2019
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!!!
Sally A Bayan Dec 2019
On the table, my cup of hot coffee
sits on a saucer comfortably,
spreading steam stirs my serenity
there goes my list of priorities
and today's unknown destiny...

breakfast voices bring airs of diversity
contrasting minds present complexity,
in our world, any ancestry, or sovereignty
some, have become used to sophistry

one thing i've learned: caffeine and disparity
in opinions, break the ice of a new morning

this morning's issues overwhelm me
topped by fallacy and political travesty!
i'd rather be stuffed with bread and peppery
scrambled eggs, or peanut butter so crunchy,

but....served cold, was our coffee
and there were no fries, so skinny
disgruntled, disappointed minds realize
we're no longer in our known paradise

on my home table, a cup of bitter coffee,
sits on its saucer....comfortably,
while sipping, i recall and ponder patiently
its wakeful scent takes me to a known serenity
away from alienating airs of diversity...



Sally

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 14,  2018
Dec 2019 · 173
Forgotten
Sally A Bayan Dec 2019
How does it feel to be unimportant?
ignored, like a ***** cracked clay vase,
or an empty soda can, kicked to the wayside,
or, like dark wastelands, where trees, plants,
crops don’t grow, where water doesn’t flow,
they’re like eyes that cry without tears...

the world is aware...but, others refuse to see
people from war-torn places...devastated,
with wounded bodies, minds and feelings,
left in dark despondent halls, forgotten...
it takes long to rebuild structures, and futures;
it takes forever to rebuild crumbled faith and
confidence...begging eyes of orphans, of
the homeless, and the hungry, seek light,
but, they only see a dark horizon...

heavy boats sail in the freezing dark,
striving not to be found...uncertain of
safe sails out, yet, taking chances, facing
risks...for new beginnings...where water
meets shore...better to be gone...forgotten,
like embers, left dying through the night, their
ashes blown to oblivion, by gusty morning winds....

the air is filled with Christmas whispers,
muffled voices, only a few could hear....


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
December  2, 2019
Nov 2019 · 78
Eye To Eye
Sally A Bayan Nov 2019
A cold sunset wind blew, as i
stared at the old fortune tree,
its dusty, spider-webbed leaves parted a bit,
who knew, i would have a peek of its
resident creature?...woken now,
and ready, to unveil itself....

soon enough, it started circling
front and back of the house,
flinging itself, crashing inside fruit trees,
reveling in the spreading dark of dusk,
flying, like an airborne kamikaze plane,
aiming at its target...resting lizards
and crickets stirred, for,
  it was searching for food...

from the sweetsop tree, it nosedived
into the terrace, then swooshed up
again, driving peaceful candle flames
into restlessness..i wondered...did it
dislike the fire from my row of scented
candles? did i violate its privacy? did i
start it all, when earlier, the bat and i,
...were staring....eye to eye?
:::::::


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 31, 2019
Nov 2019 · 275
Hums
Sally A Bayan Nov 2019
Still without sleep this early hour,
watching waves of scenes,
almost there, atop a soundless calm,
lines, within my grasp....when
suddenly.......and loudly,
flapping wings and proud crowing
shatter dawn's placid moments...

those waves of scenes just froze
my climb....is now broken

the slumbering world has stirred
eyes open, and follow the rules of the sun
coffee-woken senses obey...

morning's peaceful hums give way to
morning's rush, and morning offerings:
sunny-side-ups, pancakes, frizzled bacon,
there's  clinking of spoons with  plates and cups
shortly, cars start revving...honking school
buses eventually fade in the moment's
busy-ness......heavy footsteps and loud
voices yelling orders take place...very soon,
dust and debris will float in the atmosphere,
grounds, buildings and bodies will quiver...

it would be difficult to defy,
huge sacrifices, progress requires,
for the good of all, we patiently succumb
.................to life's changing hums...
::::::::::
i await sunset...for much-needed aplomb,
to welcome...new waves of poetic hums...



Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August  2019)
(one dawn in August)
Nov 2019 · 215
ALWAYS THERE
Sally A Bayan Nov 2019
() 

I am always there.......never cold, or still...
i float...i roam with you in your journeys,
a torch for your dimmest alleys and
corners...i may flicker, but i never waver
.......i make sure you don't fall
into hidden abysses, or black holes...
my red-yellow flame has been
burning bright, since you were born,
i will fizzle out.....the moment you die...
........I am your God-sent candle,
i bring you clarity...and enlightenment,
everpresent......in your soul.......I am
always there with you.........in your
darkest hours........day or night...


Sally
Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
September 24, 2019
Nov 2019 · 2.4k
Just For Tonight
Sally A Bayan Nov 2019
(haikus)

<@-@>....<@-@>....<@-@>


The night is disguised
scent of pine permeates the walls
moon-glowed dancefloor calls...

"A Certain Smile," plays,
two masked silhuouettes dance close,
in sweet abandon...

hearts are beating fast
strangers...in this night's charade,
lovers.....just for t'night...


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 31, 2019
Oct 2019 · 159
Home
Sally A Bayan Oct 2019
/    \
                            /        \
           ---------  / HOME \  ------------  
    
  
                                (  )
                           ­    ) ( (
                            (  (  ( )
                          )  (  )  )  )    
                   ­    )   ()  (  ( )  )  ) (  
                  )    )  )       )     ) (  )
              ( )    (  (      ( )    )  ( )  ( (
              )  (  ( ( )        )  ) (      ( (  )  (
             )     )  (    )      )    )       ( ( ) ( )
           ( )  (  )    )  ) (  )  ) (    (  (  (     )  )  )
   (  ).    )   (  (          )  (    )   )   ))    (  (    ) ( ) ( (
:Some::days:::mind:::travels:::to::faraway::lands:
:chasing:wind­s:sailing:restive:waters::roaming:
:fields:caves:dark:skies::land­ing:on:dying:red:
:fire:trees:i:see:wilted:jasmines:bowed:lilies:
  :dark:faces:::i­t's:tiring:like:a:recurring:bad:
   :dream:but::it's:not::i:take:a:deep::breath:
    :prepare:hot:noo­dle:soup::fresh:brewed:
     :coffee:::toasted:ciabata:bread:::gouda:
      :cheese::white::wi­ne:is::ever:ready:a:
       :warm:bed:and:blanket::awaits:me:
        :hug:close:soft:pillows­::::i'll:grasp:
         :a:feather::afloat::in:the:air::then:
          :set:it:free::as:­::i:lie:on::the::bed:
           :safe::snug::in:my:own:space:
            :my:heavy:eyelids:give way:
             :my:known::freedom::calls:
              ::I:::am::::HOME::::am::­:I::      
              [[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
                ­        
        

Sally


Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 16, 2015
Oct 2019 · 233
We...
Sally A Bayan Oct 2019
.....live in a huge immovable circus,
we...are acrobats...
we do the trapeze...walk the tight rope
taking chances....risking our lives....
catching....grasping swinging bars
learning when to not let go...and
when it's time to release...
we rise from being upside down,
we learn how to hold reins...to survive...
:::
we tame lions, tigers, wild horses,
even people.....even situations...
we have mastered the art of
controlling...our grips, becoming
tighter, through time....making those
under our charge feel chained...with
spiked leashes......some fight the fear...
and those who accept powerless-ness,
bow their heads...they lose their voices,
imprisoned in body and mind...as good
as dead.....and add up to the avalanche...
:::
we got more than enough mountains
.............crumbling upon us....
:::
we forget...in the eyes of God, we are ALL
equal: AND, WE ARE NOT really in control,
we are given chances, choices, and free will,
it's really up to us...we either walk straight,
....or stray.....yet, we know very well,
................we reap what we sow...
:::

Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 11, 2016
Oct 2019 · 531
Fireflies
Sally A Bayan Oct 2019

( 10W x 4)

Poets are dots of fire
in unexpected
dark corners.....found

by those seeking answers,
finding dots of wisdom,
and strength,

bits and pieces of
enlightenment
through the thoughts
we share...

we're amongst fireflies,
poets narrating life...
with subtlety
or candidly...




Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 4, 2019
Sep 2019 · 169
This Synthetic World...
Sally A Bayan Sep 2019
(a group of 10 words)


Vast surfaces of blue-green
oceans still capture eyes,
create sighs...

its salt-scented sea breeze,
and salty waters...offer
natural healing...

less chemicals, meant
fresh air
less dreaded diseases,
safer lives...

nobody expected...that one day,
malevolent winds and rains
would

grow seeds of
discontent....animosity
on fertile soil and minds...

a peace-loving, compassionate,
world......turned paranoid,
people learned...became wary,

of feigned smiles and handshakes,
inanimate...and spiritless,
like plastic...
..................



Sally

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
September 21, 2019
Aug 2019 · 123
Flames and Wind
Sally A Bayan Aug 2019
(Haikus)


Grass and moss-wrapped rocks,
are moist from twilight mist....cold
palms seek warmth from fire

sparks fly........flames, entice,
.....kiss of fire~~~~~eroticize,
.......eyes seem.....hypnotized,

..dazzled....and blinded,
heart plays deaf to rules and truths,
.....but...the mind sees through...

wind stirs the fires....flames
flicker.....the dark night lays claim
.....over things......unchanged...

cold wind...hums same song,
same tune wakes dying embers,
...flames..........refuse to die...




Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 30, 2019
Aug 2019 · 443
The Trip
Sally A Bayan Aug 2019
Time spent traveling is time wisely spent,
hours are filled with enriching experiences
and soul-searching moments

my morning trip to San Diego was such...
my eyes feasted on a blue-green ocean,
with daring surfers atop cresting waves;
and then there were my fellow farers...

the atmosphere inside the Amtrak
was a mix of moods...of voices of folks...
silent ones slept the whole trip...several,
had coffee and bread, while reflecting...
some were already working ahead of time,
giving instructions via their mobile phones...
a few were smiling, taking life positively,
maybe, dwelling on pleasant memories;
others wore serious faces...in deep thought,
maybe thinking of love's and life's unfairness,
sad realities they leave behind each morning,
the same ones they go home to each night.

boarding a train is one chapter,
getting off is another.....the platform is
where situations end, or, a fresh start awaits:
new job, a family...finding one's self somewhere,
ending a relationship...moving on when a loved
one dies...drifters are ever, "just passing through,"
they go....wherever the train takes them...

trips are inward journeys...the hours open
and clear our minds, leaving realizations
and wiser perspectives over nagging issues
we shun...or, defy; we try to change what
can be changed in our lives...and accept
with peace...what...cannot be changed...

we are on a journey...we are farers all,
...........in this train...called life...


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 5, 2019
Aug 2019 · 190
Universe
Sally A Bayan Aug 2019
On starry nights,
i think of the comets and meteors
that graced the starlit skies of past nights,
of falling stars i chased, as i uttered my wishes
before they disappeared at the far end
and somewhere out there....exploded

all these...were mine...they used to be mine
to hear you say, i was your rainbow...was divine
i was your sun, your source of light,
your moon...your accompanying glow at night...

.............you said..................

day or night, it wouldn't matter...
nothing could shield my glitter
we were bound by long strings of glowers,
ties.....that could never be severed

for, i.....was your universe.

yet....the moon, the sea and the tides,
the wind and the rain.....all connived,
all decided: for now, things musn't jibe
all worked together...to create space
all made the earth move, on a different pace.

we used to be rich with all the things,
.....suddenly, we ran out of everything.

our world...slowly crumbled
our paths followed suit, and swerved
yes, we were clearly breathing
but, WE....had stopped existing,

promises, declarations, then uttered,
became platitudes...stale, and dead.

i am now,
my own Universe.



Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
June 3, 2016
The monsoon season is truly affecting my poetry,
this is an old,  super sad, yet, silly love poem:)
Thank you, dear ones, for bearing with me.
Jul 2019 · 1.0k
Misty
Sally A Bayan Jul 2019
Moon glows o'er night blooms
strings play "Misty,"...soft voice hums,
......serene, fragrant dusk...


Sally

-© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 28, 2019
(before the rains...)
Jul 2019 · 183
Haikus In The Dark
Sally A Bayan Jul 2019
Selfish beam...hardly
guides one through a wide, DARK space,
this DARK, moonless night...

something stirs...'midst this
spine-tingling DARK....the wind warns:
"a thousand eyes...w a t c h..."

i m all goose bumps...cold
and scared of this patch of BLACK...
my pupils dilate,

six steps back.....to run,
should i hear evil whispers
.........o'er hungry voices?
:::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::­:::::::::::::::::::
"whsh, whsh, whsh......kitties?"
green, grey eyes rush...one limps, yet,
all share the fish......."meow..."


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    July 19, 2019
(A scary night on a scary vacant lot...)
Jul 2019 · 830
Clothes
Sally A Bayan Jul 2019
(for Mama <3 )

She wore her favorite red and beige
batik cotton dress, that morning,
while i,...wore old, faded clothes,
unfit to be worn outside the house,
my slippers, thinned by frequent use...
she would've admonished me,
had she noticed.

she never went out of the house
wearing crumpled attires......no missing
buttons or snaps...her collar was always
straight...stiff.....until she came home
from work at night...

as she grew older, she preferred more
comfortable clothes, like, cotton shirts  
and dresses....and how she favored
those with batik patterns...
even with her back bent a bit,
she still dressed up
with grace and confidence.
whatever the occasion was.

in her younger days, i felt sad
each morning when  she left for work...
with admiration, i followed her as she
walked away...as far as my eyes could reach...

these days, i am older...i still follow her,
as far as my mind could remember...


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
---July 10, 2019
Jul 2019 · 912
Two Rivers
Sally A Bayan Jul 2019
Under a shady Banyan tree,
i am a unicorn, my lone horn is shining,
front hooves raised, set to gallop, to help
dreams and desires to materialize...
:::::
on another day, i'm a silver-haired erudite,
amidst scrolls and volumes of  tomes,
pondering on THAT, which ruffles my waters,
and defies what i've known, what i believe in;
i'm challenged, i pursue the topic.....i write,
and when pleasance rules.....verses swell...
:::::
however, when my mind is drought-driven,
and my days fail me, i become a banshee,
wailing my ineptitude...my inadequacy,
warning myself...of worst days coming...
there's nary a line, or a verse to celebrate
when exists, this poverty, in poetry......
:::::
i see a poet sailing on either one of two rivers
one always moves on...wind tiptoes on its
surface, its ripples are soldiers marching on...
the other river is snagged...flows off and on;
but, water always finds, creates new paths,
eventually, it flows....at times, it overflows...
::::::
the urge to write is water to the poet,
touching his/her toes...always reminding,
there's plenty to write, out there...in here...
you suddenly hear rain hitting roof like nails
or, the neighbor's car revving up, the smoke
and noise ruin your morning air...it irks you,
giving way to an angry 10-word....or haiku...

in poetry...bad and good days occur, whether
near, far, or under a shady Banyan tree....


Sally

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 4, 2019
( "Under a shady Banyan tree" is a cozy, comfortable place,
   where i write, or just reflect..where inspirations are birthed.)
Jun 2019 · 678
Predator
Sally A Bayan Jun 2019
<<<>>>

Better days have come and gone...
long time ago, man didn't need much...
life was simple...what he didn't know,
did not  affect him.
with his intelligence and understanding,
he was...is expected to respect and be kind
to his fellow humans...to the birds,
beasts, insects, rivers, oceans, trees,
mountains, rain forests, coral reefs...
God gave him all these and much more,
to use wisely and to preserve......but,

his curiosity and audacity intensified over
time....he has become materialistic, cruel
and greedy for power.......power, which is
obtained at all costs...

simple man of yore,
has become..........a predator;
and most of what surrounds him,
what sustains and nourishes him,
he has made...........his prey...
................................................
........­...................................
nature suffers.......humans suffer...
the whole world is hurting... from
wounds...........inflicted by man...



Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    June 26, 2019
Sally A Bayan Jun 2019
In my part of the world,
there is so much dryness...
sky, slightly weeps;
a light shower seems indecisive,
it'd spray a few seconds...then fade,
hesitant...........later, falls finally,
*******............like pin drops
on wilting rambutan leaves...
...................
sweltering May has passed....yet,
June still steams....and screams from
hotter, drier days.....they almost burn...
............................................
....El Niño lingers
......it destroys properties
.............it claims lives...
........................................................­.
these days,
in other places in the world,
the opposite occurs,
a kind of water flows incessantly,
....unrelenting........it lingers,
......it destroys.....it claims lives...
.....................................................
..­.......................................


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    June 18, 2019
Jun 2019 · 251
TOMORROW
Sally A Bayan Jun 2019
Sunday night, past eleven,
signs and sounds of life start to wane,
all have gone to their corners,
tucked in their own sleeping spaces,
another night...another week ends...
from this dark silence,
shall emerge..........tomorrow.

i am not alone...yet, i seem alone,
i seek You again...

in my lamp-lit room, i worry about
tomorrows, laden with difficult tasks.
i don't know how...or, where to start,
how to go about them....yet, i must.
they are upon my aging shoulders,
they feel really heavy...

"why me?" some nights, i ask..."take
these tasks away," i say..........when mind
clears, i take back my wish...my question,
i am reminded: some have boulders to
carry........mine are just pebbles.
here i am....complaining at this late
hour......instead of giving thanks...

forgive my worrying, my selfish whining...
if i do wake up to see another  tomorrow,
i ask for hope and strength.....there's still
much to do.....my weary mind and eyelids
surrender....God, i need Your Light.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::::
(Good night, everyone!)


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
June 16, 2019
Jun 2019 · 709
THE DOORS
Sally A Bayan Jun 2019
(of Angkor Wat)



Two years after, i still think of that
forest, where an old temple stands...
most structures were carved with intricate
designs and images...architecture was
influenced by their Khmer culture...

posts, frames and doors are stilled
statues are tight-lipped, like frozen
witnesses...drowning in the voices
and noises of flocks of tourists,
reminding me of the noise and confusion
of my daily existence....in my own world..

i went up and down many stairs, went through
doors within doors, i lost count, while catching  
my breath, wondered why there were just door
frames............silent walls, old posts, and old
trees gave a cold feel of a distant past......yet,
in my mind, an aura of magic and mystery
hovered upon the entire temple...as if ghosts
of wisdom, and lots of stories lay dormant,
imprisoned......within the structures...

two summers and monsoon seasons passed,
my thoughts on Angkor Wat, haunt me still,
and bring back my thoughts on those doors;

some doors on our paths are closed shut,
some are ajar...some open easily, but are
ignored, or feared...some, close too soon,
before we make our first step to enter...
some stay open, yet, we become complacent,
some, have no closures or finality...leaves
one in limbo....
how will we know if it's the last one for us?
how many doors more...for you? for me?
does death give an end to life's entrances?
........or, is it just a beginning?


Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 2017
(TAngkor Wat is in Siem Reap, Cambodia)
Jun 2019 · 1.5k
>>>>>>>>>>VENOM
Sally A Bayan Jun 2019
>>>>                                    

                                       x
                                      x x
                                    x x x
                                 x x x x x                        
                      ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
   ­        ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;::::::::::::::::::::­:::::
Never can it move::::like thunder or lightning
it goes slow, but sure:::::treading its own path
brave, strong and patient:::in facing its ordeals
they don't want to sting:::unless when needed
they want to be left alone::::but, alert:::::::ready
to protect and defend itself:::::with less action
when trapped or driven up a dead end:::::it is
more composed::::::it knows when to explode
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::::::::
:::a scorpion, can quickly paralyze its victim:::
::::::::::::::::::::with its own venom::::::::::::::::::::::::;
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;;
:::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::it is said,::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;;
human beings have innate venoms or weapons
i don't know if i have one:::or what it could do
i only know, i can hardly harm anyone::::::::but
like any other creature::;;:::i will defend myself
::::::;;;;;;:when my safety is compromised::::::::;;
    :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
      :::::::::::::::::::: i am a scorpio ::::::::::::::::::::
          ::::::::::::::::what about you?:::::::::::::
               what could be your venom?
                 ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
                    ­ :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
                        :::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
                                x x x x x
                                    x x x
                                     x x
                                       x
                        



  Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 23, 2017
(just an old poem, guys...
just scribbling, while at the backyard, watching crawlers fighting)
May 2019 · 3.8k
Different Worlds
Sally A Bayan May 2019
East...and west, are we?
north, and south?.....maybe...
we were nurtured with love,
our eyes and our minds opened
to different isms that helped shape our
values...we were brought up, bearing our
folks' customs, traditions and principles...
we have different faiths...some practice...some
don't...some, don't even subscribe, yet, survive.

we have dry and monsoon season...in
other parts, pleasant weather, cold winds,
and in some parts, snow.....turning to ice

we are  a mix of white skin, seeking for a tan,
and brown-skin, hiding from the sun;
one's night, is the other's day,
there are surfers among us, playing with the waves,
there at the cusp...gambling...daring fate...
there are those who hide from silent freezing winters,
finding warmth and comfort in long hot summers...

countless points of comparison,  
yet, we've something beautiful in common,
a connection of feelings, of words...our poetry,
flowing like blood,through our veins...endlessly
feeding, fueling our hearts and minds, with classy,
themes....sometimes bold, mushy, or....sassy...
no set skeds...we do it even through adversity...

we write......

we tell about our escape from life's banalities,
mindscapes, landscapes immersed in frivolities

yet, we await the marvels of each  morning we wake,
remembering gratitude, in every breath we take...

years have passed us by,
still, plays this soft music that mollifies
and inspires......heard only by you and i
prodding us, through the hours, of day or night

while you exist in your part of the world,
and i, in my hot, humid cosmos, longing for cold
::::::::::::::::::::::::::


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    May, 19, 2019
(a love poem, edited...for all Hello Poetry writers)
May 2019 · 1.7k
Scent
Sally A Bayan May 2019
Scent...

............is a spray  
of sweet, nagging fragrance,
borne by a rush of air,
touching nostrils as it travels,
to stimulate, and scintillate
a parade of memories,
especially, when distance is great
and truly separates...
::::::::::
could be from a bouquet of roses,
or a handful of jasmine...or,
the welcome smell of cinnamon, sage,
other spices...elements of what we call,
the fragrances of good cooking...or,
those of sweat and a fruity cologne,
blending, while working,
from caring....from loving...
::::::::::
it's a brush of summer wind
that captures, even a bit of a sniff
of any, or all of these scents...
::::::::::
these smells dwell in the senses
they reassure...that one person is never away
fears are held at bay...you're okay,
it brings calm to one's soul...
::::::::::
the nose...the other senses know,
the heart and the mind know
the source of all
these fragrances...
::::::::::
no perfume could ever equal
the scent(s) of a woman...
::::::::::

Sally



Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 30, 2018

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL MOTHERS
AND GRANDMOTHERS !!!
(From 2018......edited a bit.)
Apr 2019 · 561
How Do I Love Thee?
Sally A Bayan Apr 2019
(parts of an old poem-edited)

:::::::::::::::
Was awake, 'til Black Saturday's tail end,
through Easter Sunday's dawn...a day potent
with rejoicing, renewing faith, and the essence
.of one's presence
while seeking quietness
amidst the busyness
of one's existence
how does one forgive....forget
the wrong, when it still affects, and upsets?
how does one love tirelessly, without regret?
:::::::::::::
these thoughts come to me
when writing prose, or poetry.
when turning to shelley....or rossetti
the hours turn to a sentimental journey.
while understanding their lines,
i also ponder on my life...my own lines.
a mug of steaming creamed coffee, clears
the old English cloud, shooing away my fears,
......if it's my day.......if i'm in  luck,
a few lines arise easily.....or, i could get stuck.
:::::::::::::::
when winds aren't in my sail, they stubbornly
steer my boat towards that river lull, so droopy.
i paddle away, painstakingly,
when river runs dry, or dryer... i just let it be.
as long as coffee steams on......brewing,
my mug, i keep refilling...leaves me thinking
of  Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "sonnet 43..."
facing a mirror, i'd ask: "how do i love thee?"
i'd say back: "lemme count the ways, dearie."
::::::::::::::::
i see me, reeling on the bar of life's daily
circus, counting the ways, loving, going off key...
rather than fall, i turn those moments into poetry
keeping silent for hours....climbing dark valleys,
rising the next morning, to start my litany,
i ask myself anew: " how do i love thee? "
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::



Sally


©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 28, 2019
Next page