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2.6k · May 2015
UNICORN MOMENTS
Sally A Bayan May 2015
Unicorn Moments


It was Maundy Thursday, an afternoon so lazy
the words of the passion could sink hardly
for my eyes were on the beading tray
the unfinished bracelet was now  awry
off and on, i kept stringing  
the garnet rounds and pearls kept falling
no more tiny brass rings to string in between
i had to think of other ways...something
also had to wash away the gray feeling.

Searched inside my bedroom drawers
and found silver flower spacers!
i gloried at the thought of finishing two bracelets
three, more, maybe even an anklet!

Three, four hours had passed, i was so exhausted
i had already showered
the whole bathroom was spotless,
smelling of ^Pandan leaves^ and flowers,
i was so delighted!

Outside the bathroom door, i stopped
spotted the shiny silver spacers! on the bed, i almost dropped
the silence was too loud, i couldn't stand the spacers' glare,
nothing to say, nothing to offer... just a stare...

"No! no way!
i'm fine, i'm okay!"
was that my voice that gave me away?
moment of truth could never be held at bay...

I held the cable wire to start beading
but body and mind were one...refusing
my fingers were limp...a bit trembling
tired, from too much scrubbing.

My finger traces the head of my unicorn figurine
God knows, i have loved this magical creature ever since
but, i'm not sure i even like these new visitors, these
unicorn moments,
they don't come often,
yet, they're bound to happen.
oh, well....i guess i have to be a bit bolder
accept these changes that come with growing older...

when this happens, i try to joke and laugh,
and then people say......."you're tough!"
i answer them with a smile...and a gruff!



Sally
Copyright April 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
**A "unicorn moment" is when somebody gets off the subject of a conversation, or when one gets "side tracked" from a task without realizing it....(from the Urban Dictionary)***


^^^Pandan leaves---A tropical plant with leaves that are long and narrow, used in cooking for its flavor and its fresh and pleasant smell. I tie some leaves all around the bathroom, to keep cockroaches away...i don't know how, or why...but it works! ^^^
2.6k · Jan 2016
[[CAPTIVITY]]
Sally A Bayan Jan 2016
In one's lifetime, comes a moment or two,
when a sunny day's sky of powder-blue
turns to an utterly gloomy black night
not at all a beautiful twilight
:::just a dark firmament...no homing birds in sight

When in a flurry,
it comes naturally,
to want to sit...on the ground,
on the floor...just somewhere down
with both palms cupping jaws
resting on knees are angled elbows
discontent and stagnation
nag one's  imagination
heartbeats
............are drumbeats
glances are fleeting
unfocused:::::escaping
such are vain attempts, to dismiss
avoided thoughts and scenes:::to release
::::and decide...all must eventually cease
yet.........it's never easy to find peace
can't just forget sounds of voices...and sweet laughter
jokes and conversations that came, before and after...
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
they are tattooed in the mind
::::::::: they are ::::::::::
::: i n d e l i b l e ::::::::::
:::: e s p e c i a l l y ::::
:::on:::moments:::when:::
:::we struggle the most:::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::only:::­to:::realize::::::
::::::::::::::::::[[[]]]::::::::::::::::
:::::­:::[[ memories ]]::::::::::
::::are:::a::::[[metal cage]]
::::::::::::: and we :::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::: are :::::::::::::::::
:::::::[[captured birds]]:::::::
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
it usually takes long:::::::::::
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::to be freed:::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::;;;;
::::::from being:::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::held:::::::::­::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::[[ c a p t i v e ]]:::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
(November 2015)


Sally

Copyright January 13, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
2.6k · Oct 2015
FADING SUN
Sally A Bayan Oct 2015
Fading Sun...

I was looking at the graying sky.
Trying to chase a fading sun
I peeped above the pointed leaves of the Yucca tree
My eyes were met by little bursts of orange stars
And oblique sunbeams... emitting fading brightness
Through the bushy leaves of the Sampaguita plant.

I was waiting for the moths to appear
Near my lighted candle,
But a gusty wind blew, and made the shell chimes
Sway back and forth...left and right
Round their base and through,
Until all five chimes made pleasant music
With the cool, whirring wind.

I was waiting for the late afternoon sky
To turn to elephant gray
To highlight the yellow glow from the street lamp
So I could test some newly hung Christmas lights
And the capiz lantern outside the french windows
But the rainshowers came all at once
And i found myself wet, from the pouring rain.

I was waiting...and saw a changing sky
The rain, just tip-tapping on the roof
A much cooler air blowing...
Bringing sprays of mist on my face...
Suddenly emerging...the shape of a bat or two,
Flying, crashing, through the dripping red palm tree.

On the horizon, sun was now a dipping balloon
If there's any, i would wait for any kind of moon.

On the garden chair, i sat
And just above me, came a regular stray cat
I heard its paws lightly scratching
The wet surface of the fiberglass roofing.

I still wait...and contemplate on hopes and prayers
I wait...for a lot of dreams to come true
i wait, for this long day to be over
While the night creatures,
In their own tones and tunes
Have started to croon...

Sally


Copyright October 16, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***another rainy day keeps the mind straying...***
2.5k · Nov 2019
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
2.4k · Nov 2013
Traffic
Sally A Bayan Nov 2013
When the boulder was lifted,
Pandemonium started.
Everyone, in a flurry-
The usually slow flow
Of movements.
Now done in haste:
Moving out
Moving in
Resettling
Reorganizing
Moving shelter
Moving food supply
Everyone has to hurry.
In my eyes, I see that
Confusion shouts in every corner.
Still, there is peace
In their lined activities.
How could there be so much
Hope and patience,
When soon enough,
Another boulder would be lifted...
Demolition is nearing,
Construction would soon be starting,
Desolation, all is expecting,
Still, they move on,
They live on.
We, could gain so much from
These industrious, persevering living beings.
They are brimming with wisdom,
These tiny,
Slow-moving, fellow creatures,
Called
Ants.


Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
2.4k · May 2018
Rose Garden
Sally A Bayan May 2018
Nothing...had enchanted me more,
than that big yellow rose...
bright, stunning at the tip of its tall stem,
soft petals.....yet to fully unfurl,
its inner part...a soothing light shaded swirl...
i sniffed a bit of its fragrance,
and felt its softness...but,
i got pricked by a hidden thorn,
---
just a tiny puncture...yet,
my finger bled so much...
---
i walked on through the garden,
...with my pricked finger inside my mouth,
i was amazed by other flowers, more colorful ones,
but, the yellow, pink, red roses outshone them all...
with care this time, i touched a  big pink,
slowly.........and, again, i didn't see,
another thorn was in the way
---
it was more painful
it bled even more...
---
i stood thinking, while bleeding...
its beauty, its silky feel...its
fragrance that lingers in the mind
would all be difficult to resist,
the pain from the thorns...harder to forget,
but, i'd still want to walk through this vast
garden....live this life...and seek those roses
feel them...be inspired...over and over
---
never mind the spikes!
never mind the pain!
---
love is beautiful like a rose
a rose is beautiful like genuine love,
there are thorns...hindrances and
hurdles, that come with its beauty....yet,
that wonderful feeling of loving,
and being loved, in return,
the wanting, the longing for it,
never dies...the fear of bleeding,
is ignored,
---
for, what is life without love?
and what is love without pain?
---
isn't love lovelier...more hopeful
the next time around?
---
a rose could never be a rose
without its many thorns...
---

Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 11, 2018
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL MOTHERS!!!
2.4k · Sep 2016
MOSS
Sally A Bayan Sep 2016
I'd like to cover
our concrete fence
with white paint all over
:::::::::::::::::::
it is right now, choking
with an overgrowth of healthy moss...
i intend to wipe the spreading green
off its surface
:::::::::::::::::::
............it seems too cruel, though,
plucking....scraping....or pulling something
.....away from its habitation,
......................its comfort zone
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
i thought it similar to something
that had happened a long time ago...
..................it left us with no choice,
.........we had to leave the house
where we were born
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
my mother, my siblings and i,
we moved in
....with my aunt and her family,
.....................in a faraway place
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
things weren't the same again
.............after my father died...
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::



Sall­y


Copyright September 15, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
2.4k · May 2016
DAFFODILS
Sally A Bayan May 2016
In early, or late spring
the daffodils appear, to enchant us
stems are firm, while
holding clusters of bloom.
they enhance our views...our spirits,
arraying our horizons, with fresh hope
fresh perspectives
never giving space to doom.
daffodils
are offered, not singly,
but in bunches,
just like the way a mother gives herself,
never just a piece,
she  reaches out with her hand
when in fact, she has offered her whole body
always...with open arms.

Most times, she wears lively colors
of white, yellow, gold, and green,
whatever the season,
whatever circumstances she may face
her smile, her warmth,
are the most colorful parts of her being

There is a lilt in her eyes,
in her actions...in her songs...in her words
in her dance...as she does her chores
such a miracle, all these graces, she offers

On a sunny and windy day
a mother is like
those dancing daffodils
on the hills and wayside
staying strong enough, while
swaying...to the winds of life
not to fall down...or be blown away,
she may be silenced by frustration and worries
but never surrenders to ensuing hardships
just choosing to be quiet...seeming dormant.

She is both a bulb...and an all-season root crop,
stuffed with needed energy
quiet underneath when the cold season comes
but never dead...never fallen
always gathering, saving strength,
for when a storm in life comes
not one to mope...but one to ease
...like a healing balm.

A mother is a rare kind of a daffodil
one that gleams with bright lights, and bold colors
all year round...through all kinds of weather.

Sally

Copyright May 8, 2016

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Happy Mother's Day to all mothers and grandmothers!
2.3k · Dec 2016
MNEMONIC
Sally A Bayan Dec 2016
Mnemonic...

Over my mug of steaming coffee,
...i see cookies and a fruit...sliced,
to freshen my breath after my coffee break....

one glance...

one unexpected glance, took me back... to
when i decided to do something for myself,
to be happy.....and to be somebody....but,
finally....i fought the desire, to be defiant...
those awakenings, and newfound feelings,
still haunt my evenings...the hurting, somewhat
changed me, and my beliefs.......i realized that,

at some point in one's life, a chance moment
unfolds on a landing...clear to the eyes...on a mission,
to change attitudes...to erase wrong impressions,
triggered by unpleasant experiences....i have also
discovered....at the right time, somebody comes,
......like an angel with hidden wings...to soften
our hardened minds....to melt our frozen hearts,
ease our tensed opinions...offer us a healing balm.
sometimes, a place, or a face, becomes a kind of paper
that can't be crumpled, or destroyed...so hard to forget.
anyone...anything, that strikes the heart hard,
easily comes back, with the slightest reminder,
catches you..........unprepared....

this fruit on the table, in silence, it just sits there,
...unaware of its being mnemonic...doesn't matter,
if it's fresh, rotten, or candied...a plum, apple or pear
....................would prompt me, to remember,
over my mug of steaming coffee...


Sally


Copyright July 27, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
2.3k · Jul 2015
UNMASKED
Sally A Bayan Jul 2015
(Early Mornings)


It is 4:10 AM
Here i am, facing you...
Haven't showered...haven't brushed...haven't gurgled
Too early to look...but, i could not resist seeing
This person with disheveled hair
Eyes are not too willing to open
Avoiding the uncertainty surfacing...slowly but surely
Making itself known, this morning so early...
An empty shell, is what i could see
A looming nonentity...

No coffee yet, but, the eyes already speak
You don't answer, your looks are so bleak
That is how you tell me i am  stubborn
But i've been this way since birth...so torn
You tell me, i am just in denial
In front of you, it is like, i am on trial
But, i am just a mortal
Maybe we are both tired
How can we ever go back to being inspired?
Maybe you'd rather shatter into pieces...like i would,
I'd carefully gather your shards...would you gather mine, if you could?

Now, later, tonight, tomorrow...we always face each other
There are days, when i look at you, you make me smile, i feel better!
But, most times, i hate the reflections, they make me glare
And i so despise the thoughts that ensue...i counter your stare
..... I close my eyes, with a plea,
A blink could not erase, the images that i see..

I have never wanted separation
And yet, Fate brought me here, in isolation
You're my silent pal...my silent witness
You say nothing when i become senseless
I leave you in the morning
I come home from work in the evening
And i find you still here... on this wall
Welcoming me home...where i just sit, or stall
Faint jazzy sounds comfort me
A few hours rest...late at night...i sleep...i am free
Then, again, the alarm ruins the stillness of the moment
Robs the dawn of its precious silence
And i rise...to drown anew in despondency...in self pity,
Or is this lunacy?
All i see is gray...and black
Be it dawn...or dusk.

If  ever i surrender
I'd be swamped with the stark truth, the reflections you offer
...this can't be a facade,
...in front of you, it's just too bad

I am

U n m a s k e d...

....I am weak, powerless...i crawl
Over and over, i struggle not to fall,
Over and over, i  look at you... but, just the same..i fall.

         (January 22, 2015)


Sally

Copyright May 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
*** Depressing old notes......no happy endings here...
      I heard, and wrote someone else's thoughts... never thought I would find myself in some situations within...***
2.3k · Mar 2018
HOLY WEEK
Sally A Bayan Mar 2018
(haiku x 2)

coffee and po'try
how could i ever abstain
they're my meat...my flames

i am pretty doomed
it's lent, can't stop, got some lines
how doomed could i be?

Sally

Copyright March 25, 2018
rrab
2.3k · Aug 2022
Escape
Sally A Bayan Aug 2022
The heavy downpour
took longer,
easily, it spread all over,
the weight of water,
drenched the ground,
the plants.....it doused
the body and
silenced the mind.

I stared
at the gloomy, grayed
horizon...while rain
poured without end.
the water level
rose...and swelled,
all active and dormant fears
lost their tethers
and darkened the floodwaters.

It seemed, the sky
really needed to cry.

and here we are, humans,
twisted...tangled up in the chaos
of a grieving universe.

With just thin raincoats
and light scarves as shields,
how do we escape the aftermath
of life's heavy downpours?


For lots of reasons, the sky
disencumbers...and cries.


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 31, 2022
...but, there is no escape,
.....just choices
........on how to cope...
2.3k · Dec 2014
THE HALLWAY
Sally A Bayan Dec 2014
Five-thirty AM.
Hustle 'n bustle
b e g i n s....
........footfalls
running  u p
and  d o w n
the  stairway
......stomping
.......catching
..........fidgety
elevat­or........
...........voices
...r o a r i n g
s h o u t i n g
...c u r s i n g
.....f a l l i n g
......wavering
....an endless
........series of
..........sounds
..........scaring
......escalating
scaring   even
more.......then
slowing down
hushing..........
fading.............
....filling hours
....til footsteps
...............start
........returning.
Night  comes,
g­reeted, with
Tchaikovsky's
c o n c e r t o ,
bright  lamps,
muted sounds 
.......of spoons
forks....knives
against plates
...tingling dies
giving  way to
tea cups, wine
...........glasses.
........and when
dinner's done.
:::::::::::::::::::::::
when all are in,
when  all have
settled   down.
::::::::::::::::::::::::
n o i s e s........
....are no more,
~~~~~~~~~~
swallowed, by 
the spreading
........Dark.......
:::::::::::::::::::::::
Late nights.....
.....p e a c e.....
a  soft  silence
wall lamps are
mellow-lighted,
...some voices
loud.....others
vaguely heard,
some....fading
into..the..night.
:::::::::::::::::::::::
:­::::::::::::::::::::::
Shortly...........
the rush shall
re commence.
Those   heavy,
loud  footfalls
will    a g a i n
.......t e r r i f y
the old  ones, 
with  t h e i r
......fear of.....
:t h u n d e r:

Up.......down,
down.......up,
........nonstop
shaking........­
floors...........
........ceilings
down..........
..........belo­w.
::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::::::::
The HALLWAY
....is a straight
Path, a  world,
With  its   own
Moments.....of
b l u e..s k i e s
.l i g h t n i n g.
..........and........
...r o a r i n g...
:t h u n d e r s:
::::::::::::::::::::::::


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***...we all have our own hallways,,deep within.***
2.2k · Jul 2019
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
2.2k · Aug 2015
SUBTLETIES IN LOVE
Sally A Bayan Aug 2015
Morning rituals make you rush
But someone gets up earlier than you
You never get the chance to be first
Ah, there's a wet towel on the sofa...again!
The tiny water puddles on the floor leading to the bedroom...

The kettle  is whistling now
You bump onto each other in your haste
And you both stop.....to look at each other
Eyes brighten up....slowly give out beamish smiles.

There's toast and jam on the table
Steaming instant coffee is ready, but first,
You make a cup of fresh brew, hand it to him
His eyes squint, while he sips his hot tea,
You sit, eat, without much talk...just looking,
Like, looking at each other, and what would follow,
Would suffice to complete the hours of the day...
But, you're both dressed up... all set for work...so
You start your day....he starts his...you always leave ahead...

In the office, you remembered:
"What's the matter with me?"
You forgot to charge your cellphone and ipad last night
So you look for the charger
Only to find out, both are fully charged...
Your eyes sparkle...with much longing
Ahh, you wish for time to fly
So you could head for home, fast!

He's usually very hungry when he arrives
You hurry...chicken afritada, it will be...
Wait...the frozen chicken has been thawed...gone!
Hey!
You see a *** of chicken adobo...you salivate!
You surmise, he must've done this after you left this morning,
You look up...thank God for this angel He has given you,
And for microwave ovens, too!...you tell yourself,
"Okay, okay....I'll do the dishes tonight! ...and the coming nights!"

Life is perfect with its mix of the sweet and the bitter
Blockbuster moments and flops...together...apart
Uncontrollable smiles, frowns... tickles, tears
Even the coming....and passing of life
Days don't always end up on a high note...yet, now,
You sit, and recall all that had happened this morning
And the past mornings, evenings, weekends...
All that he did....does for you each day
All that you did...do for him everyday
All the chats you share before bedtime...until he snores,
All these combined efforts are much better ways, better proofs...
He rarely says those three words most often said by lovers,
But, you soar to Heaven, when before falling asleep,
He puts your head on his chest, and whispers to you:
"You mean the world to me."




Sally


Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
**...My thoughts right now---why not a feel-good poem today? ...we can always create a perfect scenario in our daily imperfect world....***
2.2k · Apr 2014
...nature's clock...
Sally A Bayan Apr 2014
...5 X 5...

Rooster prepares for early waking
content with just chicken napping
breathless: wings are powerfully flapping
each morning, weird song playing
waking us with endless crowing.


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A, Bayan
...it is just after midnight,  the neighbor's rooster, roosted on a guava branch, starts flapping its wings, gathering air and strength, for in a few hours, it would sing its morning hymn...
2.2k · Feb 2017
LIGHT ALONG THE WAY
Sally A Bayan Feb 2017
A
S
w e
.tread
....along
...the paths
of life,  comes
a time when roads
t u r n   to  z i g z a g s
sometimes beaten, painful
to walk on...and the blue sky
darkens to gray...and the clouds
hide from us, and the sun sets, and
we need arrows and rays to guide  us
t h r o u g h:::::
]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
From nowhere
.........any hour
y o u    appear
b r i g h t     as
morning  s u n
your   BEAMS
ILLUMINATE
you are a light
that guides us
.....through the
[[[ D A R K ]]].

...For Timothy...

Sally
Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
...found this older poem...from three years ago...written for Timothy...
...I repost...for Timothy...
2.2k · Oct 2014
Soul Whisperer
Sally A Bayan Oct 2014
~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~
The life we live each day is a spiritual journey;
we find our places, we sit,
then we sail meditatively
on waters where the past and present play.
a chance to reflect on what to think, what to do,
a place where raging thoughts are purified,
all worries and fears are washed away.
soothing words gently rise and fall
with the waves that fill the sea,
thoughts that dwell in the steerer's mind,
a message he conveys to us, his passengers,
like a wind blowing, caressing our unsettled hearts
as crystal waters, calm and still us deep within.

At journey's end, we rise and leave the vessel, enlightened.
with endless thanksgiving, we gift our captain,
a Soul Whisperer,
his name is
Amitav Radiance.

~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***Amitav, this is just a dot, a brief way of saying  how your gentle words can calm a restless soul...***
2.1k · Apr 2017
MORNING OBSERVATIONS
Sally A Bayan Apr 2017
(on a Black Saturday)


Sun beams touch the lustrous shells of
the capiz chime, dazzling the eyes and mind,
the walls on both sides of the big window are
newly painted, immaculately white, so bright,
....the pink blooms of the bougainvillea,
humbly bowed for almost two weeks now,
have turned to a faded brown.......wilting...

the strange nest had fallen, and gone
the young of the yellow green-breasted birds
have grown, flown away...all have found
............other trees to perch on

the sweet sop tree quivers
from its heavy fruits and birds on branches
enjoying their meal of fruits...ripe and juicy,
leaving some for the bats at night

a striped yellow cat rests on a shaded part
of the roof...i patiently wait for daddy long legs
to come out from the gutter...but in vain...
...paint still wet?...scent too strong, maybe?

maybe, the gravel and pebbles on the ground
weigh too much...did i unknowingly bury them?
i am missing the spectacle of an earthworm,
..........emerging from under the soil

big ants are restless...driven out...roaming,
the bricked wall's natural tan-beige shade
has surfaced...concrete wall is too hot...
these bricks, must be repainted white, as well

the ants, the spiders, the earthworms,
the bats, make their own preparations,
why can't we human beings do the same?
we prefer to suffer the consequences, and
deal with the results of unpreparedness:
el nino, earthquakes, unwanted people,
la nina, unexpected decisions, unwanted
changes...and all sorts of crazy "uns,"

townhouses have risen on my street
strange faces of new neighbors  
......pass me by...
......as i write...
the worst heat of summer is yet to come...



Sally


Copyright April 15, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
(the day had just started...
these are Black Saturday morning reflections...
  my late mother had often said before,
  Black Saturdays take too long to end...i don't know why)
2.1k · Mar 2016
PaSsiOnS CoLLiDE
Sally A Bayan Mar 2016
PaSsiOnS CoLLiDE
(10w x 8)

Love
Comes in bright...or jaded hues
varying...in intensity

Unknowingly,
you'd cross someone's path tomorrow
...it suddenly happens...when---

Feelings concur,
.....ideas jibe...falling, into right places...
Soon enough---

Feelings cOmBiNe,
Molecules ExpLODE
PaSsiONS CoLLiDE
At some point.......UniTE...

Heart no longer traverses rough waters
just watches flames burning

Though orange embers die,
true love stokes its fire
..........tirelessly

It's wiser...to capture....relive
those blissful, unequalled moments,
..........................when,

Feelings cOmBiNe,
Molecules ExpLODE
PaSsiONS CoLLiDE
At some point...UniTE...


Sally


Copyright January 19, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
:::(When two young passionate people are in a relationship....their feelings, their thoughts, their plans, their passions collide...
it's up to both of them, to exert efforts to compromise...to unite... ):::
2.1k · Jun 2015
D A D D Y
Sally A Bayan Jun 2015
(an acrostic of 10W X 5 lines)

D-addy, like an idol, rarely closes his eyes...he is
A-lways patient...eagerly hears us...though tired from work, he
D-elights in our silly, lively, sometimes significant, or even stalemated
D-iscussions...he even joins in, and contributes to our childish
Y-abber........he's our idol...our friend...he is our DADDY!



Sally
Copyright June 20, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***...my five granddaughters, expressing their feelings through me...***
Sally A Bayan Nov 2016
...gives a shiver.....it shames me,
my weaknesses, are on the surface
needing, rises this misty evening.
this cold, cold night, further emphasizes,
i need God...His Light and Shadow, to
reassure me, when gray, covers blue skies
my loved ones are my inspirations
they feed my need to write
yet, they have their own concerns...

i humbly accept.....i am not my own island...

there's this urge to run...to race with gusty winds,
arrive fast, at my desired destination,
.......but, i am halted...always reminded...
...i listen to two soft voices within
..one is guiding...the other, almost rebelling...
i feel the chill from this empty space next to me
i'm a mix of want........and fear....for,
i need you this moment of twilight,
...and each long night that i stay awake
floating, in this expanse of darkness...
my conflicted soul...sends out signals  of fear..
do my fears make me a craven coward?

the evening breeze makes its presence known
i weep in a hush, from thoughts of sailing...alone,
................ on life's lengthy moonlit bays........

..after enunciation
...of my true voice, my conscience
i could use some company
......like, i need you now
.............to help me make it,
...................through this night of exile...



Sally

Copyright September 19, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Jun 2016
Rooster calls............it's time,
Amber fields, blush with ripe grains,
Coffee is brewing...

<::::::::::::::::::>


Sally


Copyright June 3, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

<::::::::::::::::::::>
2.0k · Apr 2018
Unknown
Sally A Bayan Apr 2018
?????????

Time is not flying
the evening hours are so slow, inching by
and spent tossing and turning
my restless mind roams dark avenues
my restless feet roam the bed,
left...right...then back, over and over.
the bed, that was my hammock....no longer sways
a promise of peaceful slumber, flies away,
???????
new and strange images
start to trail me...they're heavy tassels,
tagging on the  hemlines of my mind,
seeking to connect...to be known
???????
this late hour, i recall
a forked road, not far from a winding road,
from afar, a child admires a white castle
high as the clouds, its windows, foggy,
its high fence, mossy...on its front lawn
is a treehouse, perched...resting like a bird
inside a very old tree, leaning to its left side,
with a long set of steps...all painted white.
just below the white steps are gathered,
doyens of poetry...seated in their own chosen
corners...tacit, yet, empowered by their brilliant minds
the tips of their feathered pens, smoothly sliding on
paper......strange, that they're waving at me,
why, they could be dead!
???????
i must be dreaming...my muse is showing
me paths, i would think twice of treading
???????
a quartered moon selfishly glows
unsettles even more, my murky thoughts...
yet....my pressing thumb is on my journals
i must heed.........the need.
???????
"o' my elusive unknown poem,
kindly show me...lead me to your home
let my pen give light to your dim path
give second wind to my weary mind and heart,
deny, even a bit of a space......for wrath,

help me, push me...my efforts musn't cease
show me your face...we'll both have peace."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~
~
Sally  

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 21, 2018
...started with a dream.....then scribbled...and scribbled...
I don't know if there is any sense in all these...pardon me, guys...
2.0k · Apr 2020
White Shadows
Sally A Bayan Apr 2020
ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ̀ˋ

Bull frogs have no voice 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...

t's a foggy scenario, for these health workers,
they're white shadows
witnessing silent struggles inside hospitals,
outside houses, amidst crowds...even in places
frequented by homeless people...

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...
they conceal their worries, their fears,
well behind their masks......yet, no one is
invincible...........white shadows die, too.

i strain my eyes...something flickers
in this dark, navy night...

"Come, fireflies...
be with us, though briefly, in this
moment of uncertainty......tonight,
i see your shy, quivering dots of fire,
braving the darkness...just like these
selfless white shadows, struggling to
overcome fear haunting their hearts,
come fireflies...
share your magical glow with them,
may their faith and hope never wane,
may this heavy fog melt, and fall like rain,
may this plea stand strong...be not in vain."
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::::::::::
:­:::::::::::::::
(it's hard not to write depressing poetry,
when days and nights seem an eternity...)


Sally
©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   April 13, 2020
(in honor of our tireless, selfless front-liners)
2.0k · Feb 2015
Valentines Haiku (X 3)
Sally A Bayan Feb 2015
valentines? me? nah...
saturday...no two red hearts
dim thoughts, on soft lights.

i'm swimming in red
burgundy dress...red wine...but
pretty...much...alone.

valentines? nah...just
Michael Franks, Kenny Rankin
my shadow....and me.


Sally

Copyright February 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***just some pre-valentine thoughts flowing, on a Monday afternoon...***
2.0k · Feb 2018
Like Porcelain
Sally A Bayan Feb 2018
I do believe that, people's
breaking moments aren't spectacles,
to be watched like carousels in a carnival,
not free for all(s).....like publc seesaws
anyone rides....sees what comes and goes

my folks' words play in my mind, like a spell
"don't let your eyes stay wet too long, they swell,
one day, those tears will make you unconquerable
your fences and walls ultimately become impregnable."

...but.......there's a truth that's unavoidable
there're days when we're not that invincible
::::::::
sometimes, we melt, we flow
hurt by people's deeds, we don't even know
why.....the days, at times, become too cold,
confusing...other times, painfully bold
we break, we droop............we fall
we realize...we can't always be that tall
::::::::
we become...........frangible
just as breakable
just as fragile
as porcelain
......................................
because
we're human.


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 8, 2017
2.0k · May 2019
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.)
2.0k · May 2022
At 4am...
Sally A Bayan May 2022
(Cheritas)

1)

At 4am, serenity surrenders to the rooster.

Early risers snap from their slumber,
thinking, the world is on their shoulders.

Eyes close...thoughts for the day gather,
strength is renewed...mind gets sharper
while under the lukewarm shower.
:::::::

2)

Aromatic moments stir the cold sleepy air.

there's hot coffee, frittata and fried frankfurters,
day starts with good food, whatever the weather.

Between work and breaks, we count the hours
of an unpredictable day, til 9-5 pressure is over.
coffee, gardening or wine, undo the day's fetters.
:::::::


sally b

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
2.0k · Jun 2016
As I See Myself Right Now...
Sally A Bayan Jun 2016
Content........settled here
thankful........I'm no longer there
yet...glad........I'd been there...

^^^
I Am Filled With Gratitude...
^^^


Sally

Copyright June 12, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
2.0k · Sep 2021
Coffee...In My Universe
Sally A Bayan Sep 2021
Awake still...sipping coffee this
unholy hour...i wonder how buried
moments can easily gatecrash into
my sober flow of thoughts, flipping
like pages of a book, blown by a
strong wind...i could smell dried rose
petals pressed between the pages.

i could also smell mottled pages
holding mottled memories...they
should have crumbled, be forgot,
but, bravely, they flash back, clear
as the rustling of bamboo leaves
right outside my window.....ahh,
the devil never sleeps...he creates
a stir at the unholiest of hours,
drops it like a bomb, disturbing
my calm universe;

suddenly, it's 4:00 am
i blink a few times to dismiss what
should be forgot.....then, suddenly,
it's 5:00 am.....more coffee.

the eyes watching bubbles from
curling, crisping bacon, strayed,
far from the skillet, but, focused
back, before the pieces got burned.

6:00 am now...breakfast time
for online class attendees.

in my universe, mornings are a
mix of sniffs...of coffee, fried eggs,
fried bacon, sausages, fragrant
gardenia blooms...not to forget
whiffs of good and bad memories.
::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::
:::::::::::
::::::::
:::::
::
­:
Good morning everyone!

sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 13, 2021
2.0k · Mar 2015
A SIGH
Sally A Bayan Mar 2015
It's like a habit, done unconsciously
Do we even know, it is reactionary?
This breathing out with varying intensities
Could itself, be a tendency
Says a lot---it could mean anything, 
It could mean everything...
Speaking becomes a choice,
To hear, or not to hear one's voice. 

There's a sigh of admission
Or agreement...a signal of an ensuing confession,
Rarely comes with a nod or a smile...
We admire with a sigh
Our eyes, a sparkle it could never hide,
We give out a sigh of despair
When hopelessness permeates the air.
From disappointment, we frown
Our shoulders are down,
And when one is anxious, and wait-less
Limbs are so restless
Mind is unruly, followed usually 
By a sigh of anxiety.
When heart and mind have conceded
A sigh of surrender has succeeded
When what we see is beyond comprehension
And we.....have run out of options...

When the air is laced with sorrow
We sigh, and then tears follow
Because words refuse to flow
A sigh is all that we can let go.

We sense disrespect
A snort, we usually expect
As things, people, sometimes stray
And we sigh in dismay.

When what we feel we cannot utter
We exhale...it feels so much better
Sometimes, it is gentle...other times, violent
Could be like a shout...or one so fervent...

I ventured...thought of a lot more sighs,
They could fill my page...I could run out of rhymes
So I'm ending this poem with one...prolonged and high
Acknowledging...that a sigh is not just a sigh,
it holds words, actions suppressed, even ****** expressions,
Confusing....at times, giving wrong impressions,
Because...the true reason for the sigh 
Is known, only to the one who sighs.


Sally

Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
1.9k · Apr 2018
Secret Lovers' Ritual
Sally A Bayan Apr 2018
<3 <3 <3

She enjoys her morning espresso
while he savors his mug of cappuccino

she shapes his dimpled face
in her newly wakened mind
he imagines her big brown eyes
gazing like a buck...inquiring, yet dreamy

she hums a lover's lullaby, for him,
each morning, before leaving,
he lets his charcoal pencil play
on his ever ready sketch pads
draws her face with pixie haircut

they think of each other day and night
always......at the very same time

yet...not a word is said when their eyes
meet...not an effort done, to break the ice
they'd rather keep things within,
their coffee mugs...witnesses,
to their similar daily practices

what a shame...what a waste!

their elbows, their arms touch in haste
as they hurry....towards the quay,
the ferryboat takes long, they both wait
leaving their untold love go by
along with their unsung lullaby...

it happens daily...without fail
their feelings, bubbling as they sail
but...neither has the guts to bare

how could they let life go on this way?
content with just a secret love affair...
<3 <3 <3


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 5, 2018
...a work of fiction...
1.9k · May 2016
BROWNOUT
Sally A Bayan May 2016
Brownout

A not too loud explosion pierced the quiet hours
..................immediately after......lights went out

Twelve midnight, and two minutes later
there gently blew, a whiff of cool air,
brushed past my cheeks and shoulders
but...that was it

Every hot, humid second of every burning minute
took too long to get out of my sweating body
the heat seemed stationary
in the stillness of this limited territory

Lukewarm water
flowed out of the shower
being wet.......was brief
it didn't bring much relief

It was cooler....out at the verandah
but mosquitoes are more active in the dark
the flickering candlelight
teased them all the more, this moonless night

This should be a good time
to ponder........to write
but my head feels limited...empty
swelling with something else, that is chilly
this silent.........uptight
uncomfortable summer night
...the hours, consumed with blight
a disappointment outright...

just waiting....for my eyes to give in
no longer defying,
but surrendering,
to the hot...humid
dark wee hours of the morning.

Sally

Copyright May 12, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
...either too dark , or too bright...makes us, weary...
1.9k · Mar 2015
FISH BONES
Sally A Bayan Mar 2015
(Haiku X 4)

Something sharp's inside
Piercing deeply soft walls of
My throat, chest and heart

Can't swallow...can't move
In this too long a standstill
Punctured by fish bones

Deep inside my flesh
Cut by a stiletto knife
Life's balms can't heal...why?

Even when pulled out,
Mind never forgets the pain
Life's fish bones leave scars...


Sally

Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1.9k · Jun 2019
>>>>>>>>>>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)
1.9k · Feb 2016
THE STRANGE NEST
Sally A Bayan Feb 2016
Eyes chanced upon a brown object
Nestled on  a crowd of multi-colored subjects
A bunch of dried and fresh leaves,
Small, thin and soft spikes of twigs
And I wondered.....how on earth
Did fibers and strips of polyester sack
Get included in this mix?

One would think it might fall, and be slung
But it stayed put, steady, where it hang
I was trying to figure it out:
A cylnder, at first thought...but I had my doubts
I realized, it was a crooked oblong
And, from its opening on one side, came the soft songs
A small part of which, was attached
To the thorny Bougainvillea branch.

Strange.....for it was small...yet steep
A human hand could never go deep
You wouldn't think it could contain anything
And yet...inside it, were resting
Three tiny eggs...warming
And eventually, would be hatching.

Soon, the Red Palm and Sweetsop trees
Buzzed with activities
Birds of many kinds, watched, upon the bay window eave,
High on the electric cables...they perched and wouldn't leave
To and fro.......high and low, they flew
The air was filled with bird sounds i never knew

Soon, too, soft tweeting was heard
Along with the louder chirping of the older birds
Then came that morning, when, a birdling,
Eagerly, tested its wings,
Then fell off its nest
Down to the roots of the Red Palm tree
Where it almost met its final rest...
Suddenly, came to the rescue, two big palms
That put the birdling back inside its home
And reinforced the nearly displaced nest...

Both birdling and nest, were put to a test....

Today, other birds fly around this once busy space
Where life's significant phases
Inevitably took place,
Lonely and deserted now,
For the birdlings are fully grown
They're  now flying on their own...

From my rocking chair, I could see
Among those entangled twigs
Hidden among a crowd of sprigs
Still ably rests
An abandoned strange nest
That once told the story
Of an Olive-backed sunbird....and its glory...


Sally

Copyright February 18, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

^^^^^^^^^^
1.9k · Dec 2013
C o n f e t t i ...
Sally A Bayan Dec 2013
Visitors had flown back home
The much awaited respite
Finally, was at hand.
It felt good...to be on your own
Leaning on the bed, alone, though
Still nursing a cold from two weeks past.
To catch up with sleep
Was all that mattered.

Quietude was a blessing.
There was no noise at all
At 5:00 in the morning.

What?   5:00 AM?
No rushing footsteps?  No showering?
No flushing of the toilet?
On a school day?
This can't be!

Wondered why
Rising from the bed was a struggle,
Everything seemed light...floating,
Turning...spinning
Panic lurked in all corners of my room,
Loomed, it did, and spread all around,
In the midst of a widening cloak of fear.
The vacuum...in the right ear
Cleared those fuzzy thoughts.
The
Truth
Stood out
Transparently:
My right ear could no longer hear.

Whether lying cringed or curled,
Prostrate, or supine,
Grieving, worrying
Predominated in the days that followed
Diagnoses and prognoses, all were bleak
The cruel, deadly virus did it all
The loss superceded, and
Displaced every strand of confidence
A downward pull was imminent.

No phone calls were accepted.
Unexpectedly, true colors surfaced,
Real friends came forward
Family, other voices kept whispering:
"Shibashi waits, tai chi helps,
Both can alleviate, heal the heart,
Heal the mind, to be able
To accept the unacceptable."

Fourteen days seemed a year already,
Moments spent in soul-searching
But...restlessness won.
With prayers and courage, gathered within,
I dared cross that busy street,
Though shaking, quivering from fear
And from the cold winds of February
Almost got hit by a car,
Cursed by its driver,
But reached the church grounds in one piece.
Practice started at 7:00 AM, sharp.

Movements were calming,
Healing,
Strengthening
Concentration was perfect!
It was sunny
Wind blew softly,
Carrying small things, floating, flying
Tiny strips that went with the wind
What I thought were garbage
Strips of thrash paper, from a shredder,
Thrown from a house I passed by
Blown even further, higher up
I walked back home,
With strips of paper on my head.

Two weeks were too short, I was still confused,
Unaccepting, mad, sad, felt cheated,
Still in denial, of what had occurred
Standing in front of a vanity mirror,
I pondered,
What could be God's message this time?
Those strips of thrash paper,
What if they were confetti from Heaven?
My situation wasn't a festive event!
Could I have overlooked something here?
Was God trying to call my attention?
I wasn't sure...all I knew was,
I was depressed
I lost equanimity, I lost my serenity
I was distraught, I was everything but happy.
But, those strips of paper
Falling on my head
Made me look up to the sky that morning.

There were no tears before, and even today
I am a bit afraid, but
There is a calmer me
There is solace in the fact that,
God gave me two ears
I could still hear with the other
I live quite an active life 'til now
I move briskly
I sit where the speaker's voice is clearest
To my left ear.
When something is difficult to hear, or understand,
I get so frustrated
Sometimes, I forget about it,
It has its good effects.

It would soon be seven years after
I have learned to
adjust to my limitations,
Still wanting to know how to overcome
Or resolve these limitations
One day, I might just
One day, I might just
Accept what should be accepted

I can get myself through this
I hope to be understood
And not pitied.


Early morning ,December 11, 2013
    (From journals of 2007-2008)

Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
1.9k · Nov 2015
POETRY IS...
Sally A Bayan Nov 2015
Poetry Is...  

...a journey
...to magical places
never seen....never been to...  

...places...we don't wish
to be...  
places...we'd rather be...

...a palette...
paints the world
black...white...
yellow....green...blue...

...white doves fly somewhere
some places...
red covers the atmosphere

...a bucket
of faces...names...moments
we remember
or forget

....a potpourri...
of sweet nothings
curses
promises, broken
unheard conversations

...of bleeding hearts,
feelings reciprocated,  
smiles, escaping from
contented lips

...of lovers, riding
tandem bikes
flying kites
planning
dreaming...
unending

...of grips
loosening
leaving...
still, we breathe
still, we exist...

Poetry is anything...tangible...invisible
Poetry is US....the WORLD....

(10W X 10)


Sally

Copyright October 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
1.9k · Sep 2014
UMBRELLA
Sally A Bayan Sep 2014
I Think That I Shall Never See
A Poem Lovely As The Banyan Tree....

It stands tall and sturdy
Telling us of unwavering strength
Evidenced by its toughened body.
It speaks with its huge trunk
As it holds itself firmly on the ground.

Its new-grown twigs
Otherwise known as sprigs
And branches, crowded with leaves,
Are shades and shields, replete with stories to weave,
The rings etched inside its trunks are proofs to show
Their age, their truths and tales from long ago.

Roots are both big and small... resembling us, our lives,
They are crisscrossed, entwined...they wrap the tree alive.
They spread deeper down and sideways, like an anchor
Giving extra hold that could last a hundred years or more.

One could dance and create verses on a windy summer day,
The same pace, as its branches bow, wave and sway.
It is a spacious tree house,
There is love, there is freedom, way above our brows,
Where sleepy, weary souls, are promised restful hours,
Like only a steady hammock could offer.
There is always shelter and warmth on cold days
Shade from the heat, when sun is ablaze.

It is too wide, our arms are too small a circle
To hold the thoughts, the countless words, like a cradle
To describe images of what's inside, above and underneath,
As we tell the story of the Banyan tree.

Underneath this tree are two lovers,
Fleeing... feeling light, like two soft feathers,
Flying, as if they could reach the heavens
But they always return to this tree, their haven,
Where their worries they disown.
Somewhere else lay, the problems they bemoan.
Here, they find the privacy they've always sought
In the outside world, it is a dream, or just a thought.
This is where their long poems start to unfold...
Their lives are rich with stories to be written, to be told.
.
For these two lovers
And other creatures,
Two feet or four, it doesn't really matter,
Those that fly, crawl or slither,
Through the night, there are those that wander,
Amongst the branches and crowding leaves they stick together
Before the spreading dark, they come, even those with tethers.
Sometimes they get wet when the rain seems forever,
And yet, they squeeze themselves in, they all gather,
Here, where they find peace...through all kinds of weather...

It is their refuge, their home,
It is like an over-sized dome,
A giant  U M B R E L L A
They fondly call,
THE  BANYAN  TREE...

I can never be swayed:

I Think That I Shall Never See
A Poem Lovely As The Banyan Tree.....



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
*** heavy rains, strong winds and the soft thudding of the curtains hitting the glass windows
were background sounds that accompanied me while writing and finishing this poem.***
1.8k · Feb 2016
PANACEA
Sally A Bayan Feb 2016
(a repost from 2013)


My mind is teeming with rhymes, but,
Can't even decide on the first lines to write,
I am confused...... I keep on waiting....
Precious moments are taking too long
To come through.
Right now, I am having
A motley of thoughts,
I am feeling sad...
I am feeling blue
I am coping with anxiety
I sure need a remedy.

Dan Brown? Ludlum? Khaled Hosseini?
Maybe, a Children's Tale by Richard D. Remler,
Or...one from those of a good Soul(in torment)....
I could make a necklace out of pearls and Lapiz Lasuli
Or I could turn to my Gardenia plants, to prune and trim....
A journal and a pen for some memories, some new lines...
A glass of red or white wine would be nice,
A mug of steaming coffee would be heaven....
Still, all these combined would not suffice...
I sure need the best remedy...

I know myself too well....
This time, I need my elixir,
My cure-all...
I need my panacea,
I need YOU.



(but, where are you?)
...it doesn't make sense...


Sally

Copyright September 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***This is a repost from 2013---edited a bit...it brings such pleasure, when reading what was written some years ago...to know how one felt then...
how writing style had changed...from then, to now....it also
feels good to read thoughts from long ago...***
1.8k · May 2017
Moth
Sally A Bayan May 2017
An evening breeze
.....blows by......you obey,
........and move your lithe body
you sway left.... right...up and down

giving in to the blowing whispers,
...the breath of fire...that starts the dance
your pride of red-yellow-orange,
..........rises.........then falls......
do you know
that you brighten, dim, and glow?
dilating the pupils, rousing the mind even more...
your changing colors, your fiery, wavy movements
blind...and hypnotize.........bringing back to life
dormant desires...of one, entranced...captivated...
........i am lured..........i am tempted...
..................i am here...to dance with you,...
........enfold me...while you're ablaze......
....................singe me......i'd take the heat,
            ...........for....i am your,
                              ...........moth.......


Sally


Copyright May 6, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Guys, this isn't much...another nonsense, from me
...just one night with power failure,
watching moths dance around the lighted candle...
1.8k · Jan 2014
Poetry Potpourri
Sally A Bayan Jan 2014
"A Tribute To Nat Lipstadt"

Found myself leafing through
A luscious garden of poems,
Found some  lines worth dwelling on...
Read of a man
Who writes effortlessly
Who gives himself away, too often,
Too obvious, sometimes...
While he teaches us to write
About daily motions, daily commotions...
We learn these wise words from this man:
I quote...
"write about what we know best...
"we, all feel
we, all believe in
the primacy,
the rightness of I.
but then, one must begin to observe others..."

This man writes about simplicity...
Simple thoughts. simple truths...
"No complexity nor trickery employed..."

He reads all about sadness, tragedy,
All kinds of pain, depression,
Every emotion captured in his mind...
And so he tells us---
"Let's write of joy,
celebrate reunification, singularity,
of our place,
our happy collision,
our universal location.
For where you are,
I exist,
no where else."

When we run out of things to write,
He is always around to remind us- - -

"I lifted up my eyes to the mountains—
From where will my poetry come from?

From men.
From women.
From you-reminding me,
It is where it is, not where you are...

It is here in the unread tragedies,
The wails so plain, repetitive,
The screams that never cease, the
Poems, yours, that deserve ten thousand likes,
But die ignored, despite, my best efforts."

"Let the diet begin,
no more food for thought,
no more dreams

wrought and recorded,
permit the ambient calm
of the still of the night
that engulfs,
to harmonize with the flatline
dreamless sleep that the
mind monitor machine
etchingly, quietly records..."


He appeases our restlessness,
Through these golden thoughts from him- - -

"Place your ****** hands upon thy chest.
Let them melt thru and come to rest,
Inside, the battle ongoing, under thy breast.
Watch, eyes open, knowing, fearful.
Swiftly, with no hesitation, from within,
Rip open your body, exhaling the best,
And the worst of what you got.
nobody knows the silences
kept in my treasure
box."


We can find ourselves in his poems,
If only we read on and on,
Let us find the time
To skim through his words,
And read between the lines:

"Some never find true love.
Some never experience
reckless abandon.
Some of us are
recklessly abandoned,
and never forget,
and never forgive."

"Most of us remain
unpublished, undiscovered,
unremarked, blanketed,
cloaked in bills to pay;

Living a triumvirate of
heart ache, loneliness, worry,
our normal table fare
consists
of hand to hand
into the mouth
combat MRE's,
we engage,
to survive,
just stay alive."

And, he tells us further, for our own sake:

"Be forever young n
humble;
Feel ancient and royal;
Ride tall in the saddle;
Do something nifty;
Take someone's hand unexpectedly.
Drive home in the slow lane;
Do the minimus;
Do the maximus;
Leave a book on a park bench;
Use pen n paper, write a letter;
Take a chance, make people laugh;
Barrel into contention;
Show mercy to the confused,
Show anger to the
abusers.
Bless a child with both hands;
Grasp your soul, thrown it down,
And raise a child to the sky
Straight up,
A continuum, you and they,
A ladder to heaven..."


To this great man, we would
like to say:

"You sir, are an electrician
of words, a verbal technocrat,
Plumber of the depths where
Few fear to tread, explorer of the head,
Restorer of human paintings unmatched,
Without your ilk,
this world would be unbearable,
Your heart's warming silk
Comforts bodies and souls,
Speaking from experience personal."

He has his eyes, his ears open,
Ever-compassionate,
Ready to help,
When we are like a river run dry,
When there is not a strand of hope
Left in our bodies...
Let us read his poetry,
It is a kind of music that...

"arrests and rests me,
miracle each time
I walk on its waters..."

So, let us go on and on,
Never get tired of
Picking up bits and pieces
Of these
Precious  poem crumbs
We gather all times
From his garden so green...
We bask in its paths
Brimming with pearls of wisdom,
Of unheard truths, from him,
We learned first times,
R-e-v-e-r-b-e-r-a-t-e-s
Loudly, in our ears,
In our hearts,
In our minds,
These golden Nat-ty poem crumbs.

(January 29, 2014  5:02 PM)

~~~~~

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
My way of saying, "Thank you, Nat M. Lipstadt,  for your kindness to everyone, for always being around."
1.8k · Jun 2016
PIE GRAPH
Sally A Bayan Jun 2016
(Monsoon Moments 3)

The Chart is speaking to me
telling me......time has spilled over,
and, shaded most parts of the pie;

the space beyond the three quarters,
is what catches my eyes.........the pie,
looks like a clock, with only a quarter left,
its hands, hurriedly ticking......emphasizing
making it clearer......there is no turning back;

my to-do list alerts me
got to spend my hours...days,
all the more wiser now,
before the last piece of my pie,
before the last slice of my life,
gets consumed...........and, finally,
be...shaded....completely,
..........by.....time........


Sally

Copyright June 14, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
...oh, dear...the rains are making me ponder too much....
1.8k · Jun 2016
MONSOON
Sally A Bayan Jun 2016
(monsoon moments 1)


The lively colors of summer have faded
Blazing May afternoons have ended,
Clear skies are now ash-blue, sometimes blae
Blooming with soggy grayish ***** of cotton,
Ever ready to burst with crystal drops...
Monsoon winds blow.......then rain follows
Big, heavy, noisy raindrops hit the roof,
They pour longer........inundate the streets
Making them impassable.......................but
I'm raring to be out there when it falls,
Let its cold touch, give me goose bumps...
And waken every nerve in me...
Let it wash away the heat and humidity from my body
Let its steady flow, drench my short hair, flat to my skull,
Let it compress my long-running indecision: do I, or do I not?
I'd wait for all these to slide down and join the wet ground
For, I want to walk around....soaking wet, and barefooted,
Feel the grass.......subservient to the downpour
I want to dip and wiggle my toes in the softened soil,
'til floodwater reaches my ankle
'til I'm one with earth and water
And then I...
Would feel unburdened,
When I come in
  From the rain...


Sally


Copyright June 9, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
^it has started to rain...it's not even  lunch time yet...^
1.8k · Dec 2014
SMILE
Sally A Bayan Dec 2014
(Reach Out!)


Carols and cold winter whispers
Fill the snowy atmosphere
Curtain sparkles,
trees and lanterns
Bring light in these times of short nights,
Short tempers, when expected moments are nigh
And away, they suddenly fly...
Think "warm," think thousands of fireflies
Let us have a much needed rest
From WARS, DEATH, pain, bitterness, sadness
For now, forget anger, revenge, despair, hatred, sorrow
Think away from us, far from ourselves, let our minds roam
Let our minds gravitate towards the children of the world
Their innocent smiles, lost in this cruel, mad, world...
A heart broken, is a pale comparison to those children's sufferings...
Why not let our laughter and our giggles,
With good wishes and hopeful thoughts, mingle...
Let these positive vibes fill the world, saturate the air
Let us ponder, write of happy moments, with flair...

Beam with a SMILE,
Be contagious,
Reach out,
Make the world SMILE!

We are all connected deep inside
We are seated side by side,
Everyday, we join a trip
In this vessel called
F R I E N D---S H I P.

LET US LIVE, REVIVE, AND SPREAD THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT AND HOLIDAY CHEERS.
MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A VERY PEACEFUL NEW YEAR TO ONE AND ALL!!!

LOVE TO ALL-

Sally


Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan


^^^^^^^^^^^^^
***no offense to those of  us who are heartbroken, my heart goes to you, I feel for you, but let us be selfless just for once, and be happy just this once...***
1.8k · Nov 2015
MUSIC
Sally A Bayan Nov 2015
There should be much reason for joy these days
the holidays are coming-
instead,
there is much sadness,
sorrow,
and grieving
too much violence happening
in this
distraught world
of ours.

Christmas is near,
Christmas songs should be played
yet,
a different kind of music
persistently plays
murmured by the wind
stirs the heart and mind of many
this desire for power is
gaining audience-
inflicting pain
claiming lives
sowing fear
affecting the whole
human race.

once, we had
a
World
in
Peace,
what we now have
is a
World
shattering
in
pieces.

Sally

Copyright November 15, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
1.8k · Mar 2015
A L P E N G L O W
Sally A Bayan Mar 2015
(the hours in between)

It is the morning after reuniting, wining and talking...the stirring of the curtains transparent, become slow moving hands and calming whispers of a hypnotist, blending perfectly with the gentle whiff of a breeze...and the soft sounds of one who has just woken...a hint of a breath of life...there is much gratitude.....these early morning whispers could still be heard...quietude is a swaying hammock, but sleepy eyes peep through the window, gazing far, enthralled by the horizon...red, orange, purple.....merging.....against green and brown of the mountains...and from all these mix of colors, finally emerges a sky so blue...a new day is born, the Almighty is most kind...but something else unsettles the mind of one who has gone through many arduous journeys...asking:
 "How did I fare"?   Can I still...?  Will I...?" 

Now shining bright is a list of
Things yet to happen...intentions---
Disguised as questions.
Though this has long been conceptualized,
There's this pressing feeling, they must now be prioritized
Pray they soon be realized
Before exit from this world has materialized.

Can I still -
Be brave enough to swim? drive a car? ride a bike?
Meet with distant friends? learn new languages?
Write with more depth, even when I turn 80... and older?
Fly in a plane with my son as the pilot in command?
See my granddaughters finish college?

Will I still be able -
To satisfy this wanderlust endlessly stirring within me?
To ride a camel in the deserts of Morocco?
To feel the sun, the air, even the rain, while walking the cobbled streets in Tuscany?
To spend an evening in Florence?
To visit Greece, Spain, Ireland, Wales, and relive stories read?
To feel and breathe the air there, brimming with adventure?

We walk through various labyrinths in life, so absorbed in our own worlds...hours, days, become prosy, they move oh,  so slowly.......still, when the dark is upon us, we sit and reflect...wondering:
 
Will we see another day unfold before us?
Do we get to witness
The Blue Hours of another sunrise and sunset,
And further be enchanted by the day's breath-taking
A L P E N G L O W ?

How many more
A L P E N G L O W S ?


Sally

Copyright August 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
1.7k · Jun 2023
Comforting Dark
Sally A Bayan Jun 2023
Friday night
is almost done,
it's past eleven,
body is stilled,
tired eyes gaze
by the closed gate,
restless soul
seeks peace
through low,
deep breaths;

Body rhythm
adjusts
to slow swinging,
like a hammock
stirred
by the wind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Gradually
body and soul
relax.....calmed
by Carly Simon's
persuasive
"Moonlight Serenade."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tired...alone
amidst the silence
of this comforting
dark...but,
i feel fine.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(good night, everyone!)


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   June 10, 2023
1.7k · Apr 2017
Come Dance With Me...
Sally A Bayan Apr 2017
Come, dance with me...
.....hold my back
lead my arms...my hand
push my fingers
they'll obey
release your power, and
fuel my senses,
......got no room for false pretenses...

I'll let my creative ink flow
inch by inch, i'll move your hands, to draw,
together,  a field of dreams, we shall initiate
while we travel, our efforts will collaborate...
let's dance, fill our sphere with gems of thoughts
**** my pen.....its fire, my fingers will stoke
i'll guide your brush strokes
in painting bright colors on our walks...

lead my hands
as i lead yours...
This giving and taking,
this push and pull stuff,
let's make great art out of it <3
......

Sally

Copyright February  2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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