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Sally A Bayan Jul 2023
(10wx4)

Fading rays
of sunset
concede,
to welcome
shadows
of dusk.

Myriads of
sparkling stars
stupendously
complement
the dark indigo sky.

On
cold nights,
full moon's glow
numbs
the day's
wounds.

Life's smooth
and
serrated edges,
create
voices
in one's writing.


sally b
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
June 9, 2023
Sally A Bayan Sep 2016
(10wx2)


~...i'm balancing ~...~...~
~...~...~ wading on cool
~...~...~...serene waters
...~...~...preparing
~...~...~...to douse,

.....a volcano,
...burning fervidly...
.......................
imperatively,
it musn't spew
..........its brew.  


Sally


Copyright September 17, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***once, an angry bird...***
Sally A Bayan Dec 2017
::::::

The faucet is noisy
warm water touches the plates, the spoons
and forks..........soap suds splash back
at my face.............i squint
::::::
high above the sound of flowing water,
their voices......and mine, take power
my mind identifies every face behind me
they're just within my reach from the sink,
extending a hand...sharing a memory
we share all...family stuff, jokes, and chores
things become easier....feelings are lighter
while washing the dishes
indeed...water is therapy
::::::
i seem to be at a vantage spot
i see, i hear everyone
i am the observer
::::::
pre and post dinner moments
of talks whle sipping wine, are always fun
leftover food is kept in the fridge
and leftover topics, play in our minds
they wait for the next morning...
::::::  
our laughter.......our giggles crescendo
then fade.....and then die with the jokes
shared.......in the cold of every evening
::::::
my hearing is clearing
talks reminiscent of the past wane
tomorrow's plans are favored
the dishes are clean.....now drying
::::::

Sally

Copyright December 3, 2017
rrab
i hope, i pray, to be
in this same scenario
in the following years
.........with my sisters...
Sally A Bayan Jul 2020
(
    )
(
    )

Afternoon and evening rains are signs
our monsoon season is nigh
yet, some wells stay in drought...isolation
can't just clear waters of stagnant emotions

i need water flowing like blood through the veins
water creating brooks below green mountains
been trying to make this water flow, but in vain

when poetry hides, days become a drag
it's like walking without protective clogs
while crossing hanging circles of fog
descending......from towering crags...


Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 4, 2020
Sally A Bayan Apr 2019
In Siem Reap, Cambodia, after a reflective tour
of the temples, a boat took us sailing.....to see
houses standing on stilts....i never expected to
sail on an endless lake.....the man at the helm
bended...he reached for something, and let go
of the wheel...a young boy, who seemed to be
his son.......quickly grabbed the steering wheel.
from that moment on, he took over...his hands
were small but, capable....when i thought, our
boat would hit an unseen rock or land, it didn't.
he took us to our destination and back...safely.
obviously, the boy was trained young..he knew  
every curved path of his surroundings...he was
aware.....cared about their source of livelihood,
proved a child can be relied on....they're more
reliable than adults, at times, despite their play
ful innocence....many times, i reflected on that
boat ride, that boy's unflinching face and hands
i asked myself over and over,  "could i steer my
boat the way that boy did?  am i navigating my
self rightly, even on life's odd waters?.....have i  
ever helped steer reeling boats before? brought
(them back to safer shores?.........not just mine?)
\::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:::::::::::::/
   \::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:::::::::/
     \::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:::::/
       \::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    October 19, 2018
(an adult can  learn so much...from a child)
Sally A Bayan Aug 2022
A misty breeze…the birds’ songs,
the aroma of coffee brewing,
easily disrupt a new day’s
diaphanous veil of quietude,
to give way to morning rituals.

Stubborn, newly-woken arthritic
hands start to stretch...it takes
longer now for tight fingers to
uncurl or straighten each sunrise.

Palms open and close gently, and
then abruptly...fingers move in a
circle…clockwise, counter clockwise,
blood must flow, even when they hurt.

Some of these hands have worked
through water and soil…through
pen and paper…through rain and
sun…building, creating, moulding,
withstanding fire, getting burned,
toughened by time…..honed by
nature’s elements, and life's
many implements.

Veins are protruding,
knuckles are lined and wrinkled,
swelling with the many sketches
of life…good and bad stories,
lessons from daily existence.

It's sad, these wayward fingers
will one day…care no longer,
will turn stiff and cold...their
untold stories, kept forever.



sally b

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 17, 2022
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
Sally A Bayan Feb 2017
It starts with a puddle or a pool
turns to a rivulet,
rainwater comes, fills.......then, over
time.....it becomes a true river...

we human beings are conceived,
nurtured inside the womb.....to develop
til it's time to be born...to this earth
we grow up.....we mature,
school...experiences, make us wiser
and, as we get older
.our own waters run deeper

we....are like the river...

our actions, reactions and decisions,
all depend on the tides of life...
our moods are waves...playful on a fine day,
they lap, roll...sometimes, crash on the shore.
calm now...later, high with turbulence,
on stormy days, assailing...belligerent,
courageously moving forward.....then back,
like retreating groups of warriors,
weary....defeat-stricken.......yet, all set,
to roll back to shore.......again...

our grounds, our cores, are embedded
with grains of Patience...it has a voice
in many ways, we become one with nature
we...are like the river...

Sally

Copyright February 26, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
(I am afraid of the water, yet, I love writing about it...
  and when I write about rivers, a name keeps popping
     up...that of a good poet friend...Harlon Rivers!)
Sally A Bayan Feb 2018
Am

looking at the ceiling

eyes are fixed on the

white rotating blades

turning around slowly

......oh so slowly

......the monotony

..........hypnotizes me



everything around me

every sound or action

is moving like a snail



the ticktocks of the clock

are droning

the water inside the kettle

is boiling without a sound, i think

thin slices of pork marinated

in soy sauce and lime...frying,

doesn't scare me...the fight between

heated oil and soy sauce

is not as noisy...not as violent

as it had been in the past mornings



i feel them all...slow and hushed

..........as a snowfall in winter

i am thinking of winter this early hour

...yet, it's summer...so hot and humid

...........hot coffee has failed to alter

.......the weary, and dreary airs

....of this early wednesday morning...





Sally



Copyright Feb. 21, 2018

rrab
something that came up at 3 am...
Sally A Bayan Nov 2020
Much  have been ruined, but, people know
what once existed in spaces where now stand
modern structures...mountains are crumbling,
not much trees left...soil, rocks are eroding,
the calming sound of gushing water is missed

since the beginning of life,
it has been our provider, our source
of food, shelter and protection.

today...it is the one that needs
protection from us, humans.....we
have turned inimical...deliberately,
ignoring its cries for help, because
of self-serving interests...we've exploited,
we've abused mother nature, and those
creatures living in its midst.

we humans are part of nature,
we dwell...we rely on it,
we survive in its realm.....yet,
we continuously violate this
human-nature relationship.

even before the laws,
an implied agreement,
a known understanding
existed...weren't we, humans,
taught not to hurt, or abuse
any thing?.....or any one?
weren't we taught to respect
all kinds of life on earth?

it's a pain in the heart, to watch
hurricanes wreaking havoc on lives
and sources of livelihood, anywhere
in the world...especially when they
happen....right before your eyes.



Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
November 15, 2020
Sally A Bayan Oct 2014
(A list that doesn't desist.)

1.  These sleepy moments drive me crazy....for, sleep, i can't...
2.  When I close my  eyes, try to relax my mind, that's the time I cant.
3.  Teasing images dance inside this head of mine.
4.  No choice.....I open my eyes again,
5.  I stare through the dark walls and ceiling,
6.  In the dark, the truth is so stark,,like the devil, guffawing.
7.  You sway, smile, you call me, you torment me.
8.  Haven't  got that kind of eraser, to delete your face, your memory...
9.  There's no way out...you are indelible.
10. No amount of distraction could help, not even solitaire,
      crossword or    sudoku.
11. I get paper and pencil, and start a list,
12. What could I do? what couldn't I do?
13. Exasperated, I reach for old journals, turn back the pages, 
14. I read through drafts, my eyes take me to crumpled pages, so wet      
      with sad memories,
15. The painful journey starts all over again...



           This time around,
           so cruel is the  night....



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***a midnight write...***
WET
Sally A Bayan Jun 2015
WET
The porch is all wet
Heaven's wrath bellows, falls wet
Pours like mad...i'm wet!

Rain, pain...keep eyes wet
Pen is fueled, drenched...too wet
Ink blots....paper's wet

Moist wind makes head wet
Wounded heart speaks... mind's soaked wet
My muse, dripping wet...




Sally


Copyright May 18, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***...some lines to cool the mind...the past days have been soooo
      uncomfortably hot....***
Sally A Bayan Nov 2021
You look up to someone
with respect,
a parent, a sibling a friend,
you turn to them, when
you need to vent, or,
just to talk to someone
you trust....you know
you are safe,
you won't be lost.

there comes a day,
you do want to talk...or,
just to cry out your fears,
your worries...to have them
listen to you, even without
saying anything...their mere
presence would suffice.

but, what do you do, when
the  need for them occurs,
they're physically present,
but, "they're not around,"
their minds are elsewhere,
silently trying hard...harder,
to fight their own battles,
to conquer their own demons.

while drifting on uncertain waters,
an old adage reverberates:
"Do your best,
and God will do the rest."
:::::::::
::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
November 19, 2021
Sally A Bayan Sep 2015
(Just some passing thoughts)

What if.....
...the midnight blue firmament remained midnight blue?
...dawn didn't come...the sun didn't even peep...
...the lamp posts remained bright with light
...because the hours seemed to have stopped
...because the night.....didn't want to end

what if...
...everyone got tired of the night
...dreamt, and wished for a bit of light
...bonfire flames became too much for the eyes
...they burned nonstop, like those in a funeral rite
...as if waiting for the dead one to soar
...even with the wind blowing, temperature was hot
...everyone was awaiting the sun---
...the true light of day

What if...
...electricity did not return...gone permanently
...there'd be no more cell phones, ipads
...laptops, desktops, nooks and kindles
...there would be nothing...of these gadgets
...no more appliances to make life easier

But, what if...
...light came back
...we had sun...and moon...and stars
...yet we could not speak, like we speak today?
...no papers and pens...just rocks and pointed objects?

Where would you be?
where would I be?
how would we be?

Would you be one holding a club?
dressed in your off shoulder attire of animal skin?
would your hair be long, uncombed, messy?
would your house, be a cave?

Would my hair be rudely grabbed by a man
to show the rest that he owns me?

Instead of cats and dogs, would our pets
be big, long necked creatures that eat trees?
would they be friendly enough to be patted?

Would we ever know of a blood moon
apart from a blue moon, or a yellow crescent?
would we ever know of mars? jupiter?
would we still remember our own earth?
the way life used to be?

How would we be?
where would i be?
where would you be?


Sally

Copyright September 4, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***written one misty...rainy, rainy September night...***
Sally A Bayan Aug 2014
Coming home
From a hard day's work,
Exhausted from the noise, stress
And confusion of the outside world,
Where silence and comfort are nowhere,
The pool caught my weary eyes...
Its aqua-blue water, as always, invites as it undulates,
Soothing the eyes, the mind,
Healing the soul, even by just watching
Its noiseless and slow movement...
Its call...I can never resist...

Toes feel the water, then dip both feet up to ankles,
The coolness permeates every pore on my skin...
Finally, I plunge into the cold comfort of the giant puddle....

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

I close my eyes

I give out a sigh

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

Peace cradles me, as the clear blue water moves me, here...there...
I don't want to fight the swaying current...
I just want to stay there, floating, for a while...

Released am I, feeling so pure, dripping wet under the shower...

When I am so sick or too tired, nothing beats a splash of tap water on my face...
Why is that?

My restless feet are soothed and stilled when soaked in lukewarm water...

Why does a small pail of water, when poured over my head, my whole body,
Miraculously, brings me back to my senses?
Like a new born ME has come into this world.....


What is it about water?


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
*** Many thanks to Sjr...I read his "The Bells Of Civilization," and two words caught my eyes. ***
(nothing much to offer, but something to ponder on...)
Sally A Bayan Nov 2023
🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🌹💐🌷


Doves and roses are sought
when hurtful, tempestuous thoughts
flood and create lumps in the throat,
the urge...the surge grow stronger,
much to write...we grab pen...paper,
suddenly......we are "there,"
in that comfortable nook...where,

We create fictional love scenes,
or...relive tremulous experiences
of blazing lava flows, souls despondent
driven by disastrous rains, by discontent,
or, of souls cherishing rare times, serene,
a lake, warm sun...calm coffee moments;
all these become messages conveyed
they're the carbon dioxide we exhale;

Verses are afloat above our heads
until they're written.....and read.

Both old poets and newcomers
come up with stuff...funny or bizarre,
some readers relate...epiphanies occur.
isn't that what really matters?

No kings or queens in prose or poetry.
some came first, others came later.
surely, both want to write...to share.
in God's eyes, no one is above the other.

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

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
November 27, 2023
Sally A Bayan Apr 2014
It could happen any moment...while
Strolling in the park...or while in the church,
In a movie house...or, when riding the bus,
Or in a cab on our way home,
It could be another long night, or early morning,
Like right now......at 2:30 AM,
While lying in bed...when body and mind are both at ease,
Muscles are rested...no struggles,
When heart is stripped of its trappings and
Trimmings of false pretenses...all are put aside,
When mental reflexes and defenses are relaxed,
When mind is bare...purely reflective,
Bereft of pride that shields the true self,
Cruising along the avenues of our imagination,
Taking our time, as we meet faces,
We find ourselves in places,
Existing in a variety of scenarios,
When, suddenly,
Like a comet in the night sky,
A swift spark of an idea catches our breath...

We sit, in a hurry......before it gets blown by the wind...

The mind is now done relaxing,
When the muscles stiffen normally
When we are no longer slouching
When we see coffee on the table
Steaming hot on the ***...

Under the dark sky,
Our day has started...

It is  time,
To turn those sparks into fireworks,
To create, and touch the lives of readers
Through another day of discovery,
Guide them by sharing our own recovery,
From stumbling down, over and over,
How it is to rise from a fall...
We enlighten them with our
R E V E L A T I O N S
Of self-discovered truths,
And our very own words of wisdom...

When body and mind are up and about,
Alert........ cognizant of
Every sound, and every burst of idea,
Then we know.......what time it is,

It...is...time
To
Write.

^^^^^

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Jun 2016
(A repost from April 2014)



It could happen any moment...while
Strolling in the park...or while in the church,
In a movie house...or, when riding the bus,
Or in a cab on our way home,
It could be another long night, or early morning,
Like right now......at 2:30 AM,
While lying in bed...when body and mind are both at ease,
Muscles are rested...no struggles,
When heart is stripped of its trappings and
Trimmings of false pretenses...all are put aside,
When mental reflexes and defenses are relaxed,
When mind is bare...purely reflective,
Bereft of pride that shields the true self,
Cruising along the avenues of our imagination,
Taking our time, as we meet faces,
We find ourselves in places,
Existing in a variety of scenarios,
When, suddenly,
Like a comet in the night sky,
A swift spark of an idea catches our breath...

We sit, in a hurry......before it gets blown by the wind...

The mind is now done relaxing,
When the muscles stiffen normally
When we are no longer slouching
When we see coffee on the table
Steaming hot on the ***...

Under the dark sky,
Our day has started...

It is  time,
To turn those sparks into fireworks,
To create, and touch the lives of readers
Through another day of discovery,
Guide them by sharing our own recovery,
From stumbling down, over and over,
How it is to rise from a fall...
We enlighten them with our
R E V E L A T I O N S
Of self-discovered truths,
And our very own words of wisdom...

When body and mind are up and about,
Alert........ cognizant of
Every sound, and every burst of idea,
Then we know

It's...now...time
To
Write.

^^^^^

Sally

Copyright April 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Feb 2017
...to do things i dislike doing,
to utter things i disagree with,
things that i deem as prevarications,
i think hard...and long,
i straighten my body,
especially my back...
but,
when i look around me, and see
dire circumstances, with palms opened
and eyes that beg....for all kinds of help,
physical, and otherwise,
i feel my back...bending........little by little,
'til i finally decide
to meet their eyes
...and briefly dip my feet,
   ...in a stream of white lies...


Sally

Copyright February 17, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Mar 2018
.......a parade of thoughts,
crowd its tip......sad...sweet,
scary...unpleasant...pleasant,
hopeful...or prohibited,thoughts
come.....one after the other,
like white circled smokes from a spectre,
smoking....hiding, behind the curtain,
triggered by a song, a verse, or somethin'
else.....like a photo, a voice...a memory...

when they come to haunt...and taunt
..... i just bow my head,
and let my  pen stand *****
or lean inside my palm,
allow it to make curves, loops and  
lines, to cross out untimely thoughts
on white blank pages...
pen struggles with me--whether or not, to share
my likes, dislikes, my disgust, fears, my despair...
my endless questions are frozen...wintered
within...i wonder, will they remain unuttered?
....the answers, as before, are uncertain...
.........my discontent, oh, so apparent...
::::
.....when i hold my pen...is when my soul
breathes and relaxes...it journeys...i forget all,
....hunger pangs do not enter my mind
..my troubled self....and the peaceful me
....join forces....their combined energy
flow freely, inside my inner streams...
...i sit tall when they bring out the best in me,
...wonder if i could bring back worst moments,
......and correct the wrong in them...but,
who's to say what is right? what is wrong?

when i hold my pen, i realize its might,
its omnipotent power....its written bold words,
exclamations, lines, commas, dots and dashes,
can incite, or douse strong actions and feelings
it softens the sharp edges of anger and pain
it can puncture deeper...better than a sword,
it can heal...soothe wounds and  slashes
.................inflicted by other pens


........when i hold my pen,
i let it speak for me...time and again...


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 21, 2018
Sally A Bayan Jan 2018
When smiles become too often
...and things tend to be more than alright
.....when little mistakes seem tolerable
........and the past don't feel too pricky,
............when heart beats smoothly, calmly
................when things become too sweet,
...................and so sugar-y............is when
........................i start to worry...



Sally

Copyright August 2, 2017
rrab


(some nonsense from last year)
Sally A Bayan Jun 2018
Something caught me off guard, that hot day,
an unexpected thunder roared its presence,
violent...continuously rose in volume...
the throbbing...the thumping...the
pounding intensified...while swarms of red
and pink fragments simultaneously emerged,
and skillfully created arcs...becoming orbs,
multiplying, spreading...merging...then
shaping into rounds, like atoms...combining,
revealing...bearing a scary realization...
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::
suddenly, arms and hands felt cold,
thunder softened...waned...arcs and orbs stilled,
chest started to rise and fall, peacefully.......yet, here i am,
anticipating a next time...when thunder roars anew...

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   June 19, 2018
...heart palpitations yesterday,while far from the house,
tried capturing the images...the feeling...
Sally A Bayan May 2016
C-hoose prudently...let crazy faces be imprisoned in the past

R-ecall...relive moments we went cold with fright and terror

I-nsouciant, we become, when problems are resolved...but, we cannot

S-idestep old fears, sorrow.......Let's do something, for change...We've

E-ndured hardships...we've become sun-baked adobe bricks...For once, let's

S-eek space...meditate...focus on lessons learned...from past CRISES.

                            (six lines of ten words)


     |||||||| ¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥ |||||||| ¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥ |||||||| ¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥ ||||||||




Sally

Copyright May 5, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***elections are nearing...***
Sally A Bayan Feb 2017
...the dusty road, wearing a sombrero,
i saw a chained monkey in the middle of
the road...under the heat of the sun,
its eyes seemed numbed, as visitors
gifted it with bananas and other foods...
was the monkey bored?
tired of watching people come and go?
day in, day out?
what if it rains? it has no roof above its head...
where does it sleep?

i wondered why, from the door jamb
where i stood, there exists
another door, smaller upon sight,
and another...and another...and another....
i was accosted by an endless series of doors...
what lies at the end?
is there an end to these succession of doors?
what could be its purpose?
i wondered about that reason....

i wondered...why the pathways
ahead, left side, and right,
involved going high, then low,
so you go up, then down...
you get used to its rhythm,
to the  practice of going up, then down,
holding your breath,
grasping for a post to hold on to,
if and when you lose your balance...
you assume on what is to follow,
you are about to take a step forward
and you'll be surprised....your next step,
...............could be fatal....
you would expect a set of steps going down...
but, there are none...you're inches away
from the end of the ledge.....you stare
at the ground....from where you stand
......there's nothing there
........just an assumed fall..
............if you had been a fool...

these temples, with countless, endless
steps and doors, radiate with wisdom,
offered to us...right in front of our faces..
we just have to be keen...be perceptive...
be able to discover...and learn, before a fall
occurs...

i walked away from these walls and stairs,
tired...sweating...my knees aching......but,
with my wonderings............waning......


Sally

Copyright January 31, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan May 2017
Long before
orange-purple-pink-bluish shades vanish,
......before light evens out upon us,
before billows of clouds scatter and
fill the magnificent powder blue skies,
...fields...and other workplaces, are
already humming with activities.
:::::::
air drowns with a stream of sounds,
human, and otherwise.......voices,
...teaspoons against cups, mixing
a dark waking brew...rushing footfalls,
instructions given..revving up tractor motors,
chairs, tables moving...computers starting,
:::::::
comes  coffee breaks...and day's end
then...we go home to whoever, whatever
meets us at our doorstep...whether
our life is a bed of roses, or a bed of thorns
...or, something in between....or a mix...
:::::::
minor, major changes occur here, there,
everywhere...every second, every minute...
some seasons, dragonflies overpopulate,
wasps and honey bees swarm for their own
different reasons...flower buds turn to blooms,
various birds build nests based on their needs,
cocoons hang hidden...in silence....yet,
when time is right, new butterflies unwrap
....................and emerge...
:::::::
each day consists of old and new patterns
that lead to magical, new beginnings...
new discoveries,often called miracles,
...they happen while we are sleeping
...............when no one is looking
........or, even when we are awake,
.....but, just too busy to notice...
:::::::
from a nearby...or distant river
a sea breeze blows, and cools,
brushes..and touches... then tiptoes,
prancing upon other running currents,
acknowledging...emphatically reminding
that blessings from God are ever flowing
every breath taken, is a miracle...occurring
....while we are awake...or sleeping
whether or not, someone is looking...
:::::::


Sally


Copyright May 21, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Sep 2014
(Love letter 2)

Dear Wanderer,

Already many months have gone by
Hurting times are slowly passing by
Trying moments, I hardly get by.

What could you be thinking of at this moment?
Don't you feel pricking pain in your chest?

I sense your nearness
I can't see you, but, I feel you.....
The air seems to tell me you are close by...
Tell me, why can't the past seem clearer,
Things are blurry, like windows on a stormy weather,

I imagine you,
Staring at me with wide-eyes
And I, staring back at your azure eyes...
I know Somebody up there hears my prayers,
But you...
Why do you seem deaf to my whispers?

My soft gentle words are carried by the wind,
To your ears, why can't they be destined?

Where have you gone now, dear wanderer?
When will you ever hear my whispers?

Why did your smiles
Last just for a while?

I am getting wearier,
One day, I may no longer wonder...

Please, we don't have forever,
Come fetch me now, dear wanderer
Now...or it may be never.

Me-

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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)
Sally A Bayan Jan 2022

        /          
         *       \
|         \      *      
       *             \             *


Fresh snowflakes continue to fall,
in case there'd be no squalls at all,

Let's make slow soundless paces,
and with our well wrapped limbs
we'll tread on vast white spaces
while humming joyful hymns.

Our eyes, we'll let them wander
through sun and serene blue skies.
our feet definitely will go yonder
on grounds soft, immaculate white,

like freezing fields of white cotton.
our shrieks and laughter won't be loud,
we'll go forward with much caution,
as a stillness gobbles up the sounds.

We calculate our steps...we reflect,
overwhelmed by a calming presence,
a break from life's noise...we accept
the peace of a reigning white silence.


sally b

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
December 26, 2021

#peace #snow #reflection #whitesilence #sallyb
Sally A Bayan Jun 2014
(For a sweet girl named Mc Writes)


Who would have imagined?


It seemed only yesterday
when I chanced upon
this sweet lovely girl
have known her
ever since,
without
meeting
her in
person.

Brokenhearted,
she was then in her
former  profile  photo
her head, almost always
bowed, as  if  in mourning
laden with so  much  weight,
heavy with pain,  and  sadness.

How I wished I could carry some
for her... to lessen the load,
but...I didn't know how.

Yet, time could
never be stopped.

So occupied she became
busy as the young are
her mind geared
to make her
dreams
come
true,
a fine
writer is
what she
aims to be.

I picture her now, in my mind

Who would have imagined

A young girl like
her, would be
the one to
pull me

u p --

when
i was
down
there
in my
lowest
moment.

For, it was the
other way around,
when last year
we first met.

Who would have imagined?



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Mc Writes, I pray you like and enjoy this simple worded truth.
We have yet to meet, and yet, I feel I have known you for a long time
now, iha.
Sally A Bayan Jun 2014
Why does it turn its head from side to side?..........


Watching from the bay window, i knew that very moment,
it was obviously up to something, a mischief at most.
it was comfortably hunched under the cool shade
of the sweetsop tree; the fuschia bougainville,
its thorny  branches  added  to the  shade.
Glaring blue-gray eyes appeared to be
basking in the sunny weather, the
yellow and pink wildflowers, its
body, hiding from the rays of
the sun, hiding 'neath the
tall, swaying  branches
of the oxygen  plant,
with its soft stems
moving weirdly
like a see-saw,
the succulent
leaves, one
by  o n e
being cut
off its stem.
It seemed sure,
as it  hit  its  nose
a g a i n s t  the  whole
bunch over and over....the
leaves, one by one, fell  softly
on the ground. Now, i know why
it turned its head, from side to side...
how surprised was i, for it gathered  the
fallen leaves to where it hid  underneath  the
sweetsop tree......for there, the leaves occupied
some space, and then i saw it lay upon the coolness
of the gathered leaves, then leant its head beside an old
empty clay ***, cold, too, i suppose.....fell asleep in comfort.
I fought the urge to lift this clever,  self-reliant  creature, take it
to my lap and cuddle it, lest it scratch me with its furry paws, glare
at me, even growl at me....instead of rubbing its  body  near  my  legs
giving me sweet meows, soft purrs, so, i left it alone while cat-napping.



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A.Bayan
Marian, another one for Lady Jane...please take a moment, lift yourself from your sorrow, read this poem, with Lady Jane  on your lap.
I hope it helps, Marian.
Sally A Bayan Sep 2021
Some minds fail to fathom our reasons.
...."Why do we write poetry?"

because...there's an energy,
a force, a small voice within,
consistently  prodding us
to share our thoughts, feelings,
our reactions to life's situations
and circumstances.

it matters not,
when senseless thoughts
are first to flood one's mind,
at the right time, the right
words and phrases, shall fall
into their proper places;
inspiration flashes like lightning
clear like thunder roaring
but, soundless, like first drops of snow
falling...we write on, until...we grow,

'til we learn how to turn an arid meadow
into a field, amber with ripeness...aglow,
ready to harvest...ere heavy rains flow.

we compare life with the changing tides  
of the sea...we re-live hell, with soaring fires,
lead our readers to imagine, as we vividly describe,
a life of half hell...and half paradise,
to teach.......to touch others' lives.

our words could redeem
a soul or two...emancipate them,
raise their confidence...embolden them
we can help them learn about freedom.

a life of fire and water, blending,
is where colorful poetry begins.

we write, for love,
we write...out of love.


sally b

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 31, 2021
Sally A Bayan Jan 2015
)   )   )).    )
        ). ).   )  ).    ).  ). . )
   . )  ).   ).    . )     ). ).   ).  ). )
  ) ).    ). ) ).       ).    )    )      ) ).  )
It won't stay..or stop..g o e s::::.)
fleeting..beyond our ..control :::)
::   ).  )::::::::::::::) ) ::::::::::) ):::::::::)
).  ) ::::::::::)  ) :::::::::::( ::)   )::::::)
Dwell not on lost chances::)
Alas, precious energy is :)
wasted.::::) )   )   ):::::::::)
::::::)):::::::::) ) ):::::::::::)
Nurture LIFE:::::::::)
LIVE!!! :::Regret::)
n o t h i n g::::::::)
Remember::::)
How fast ::::)
T I M E ::::)
FLIES! ::)
!!!!!!!:::::)
!!!!! ::::)
!!! ::::)
! :::)
:::)
:)
)




Sally

Copyright 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sally A Bayan Mar 2017
Let not freezing winds
numb, or paralyze your thoughts
give them tunes...write them!

Let the warmth of words
melt frozen inks of winter
spring...is setting in...

Sally

Copyright March 19, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

>>>>><><<<<<
Sally A Bayan Feb 2017
(Edited...reposted)


Time and past circumstances keep us in fetters
Long ago, I sketched this place on paper...
.............a beautiful oasis......
Where trees with long swaying branches surround
Along a placid stream, where crystal waters abound.

This is where i go
When feeling sad, or aglow,
I simply close my eyes
And easily....I am in an isle...

A place created by me
Not just you or I exist, but WE,
It could only be shared WITH THEE...
This, I have aply named, THE ISLE OF WE...

While working on this magical space
My brush strokes just fell into place
Not one, not two ever strayed,
With hues of aqua-blue, foam green...never blae.

I'm between a dream and reality
It is where you are, it is where I want to be
When I keep to myself, when I close my eyes
I am instantly here, in this isle
Perfectly...beside you,
Holding hands, we take in the view

Paradise is here,
In this unknown sphere,
From this isle, I would never flee
Where only I, exist.....WITH THEE.

    


Sally

Copyright February 9, 2017 (edited)
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Love poem # 5
:( blue, gloomy day, right here, right now :(
Sally A Bayan Aug 2014
With Thee

Not sure how this  would figure
But we could've been closer,
Things...would've been better
Time and circumstances keep us far from each other
Long ago, I sketched this place on paper
It is now etched mentally... permanently,
Here, where long, swaying branches dangle gracefully
A beautiful oasis, where trees surround
Along a placid stream, where crystal waters abound.

This is where i go
When feeling sad, or aglow,
I simply close my eyes
And easily, I am in an isle

A place created by me
Not just YOU or I exist, but WE
Could only be shared WiTH THEE
A place I've aptly named, THE ISLE OF WE

While working on this magical space
My brush strokes just fell into place,
Not two, not one ever strayed,
With lighter hues of aqua-blue...green...never blae.

It matters not if I'm between a dream and reality
It is where you are, it is where I want to be
When I keep to myself, when I close my eyes
I am instantly here, in this isle
Perfectly beside you,
Holding hands, we take in the view...

Paradise is here,
In this, unknown sphere,
From this isle, I would never flee
Where only I, exist.....WITH THEE.


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
.........
-- :( blue, blue, rainy Tuesday, it is, right here, right now :( --
      - - - - - - - - - - -

***and I can't live a world without your love...
I wish that you could be dreamwalking along with me
I wish that you could be dreamwalking along with me
I wish that you could be dreamwalking along with me....***

       (by Lee Ritenour)
Sally A Bayan May 2021


*

Her heartbeats are imperturbable,
ready to face any day
blue skies, or gray,
with, or,
without uncertainties.
*
no words said, just thoughts progress
in the silence of after midnight hours,
her eyes and mind go far, beyond the
dark horizon, she's a bird flying early
morning...soars over shadowed trees
and mountains...well before light,
she perches on the window sills of
her real world.

in the kitchen, she fries sausages and
potatoes...her mind travels with the
rising steam of coffee brewing,
tiptoe-ing on sad waters,
then basks in unforgettable moments past,
as voices from far away lands,
and even those
who are long gone
still echo
and dwell within her.

she faces life's adversities with true grit,
is toughened by pain, by loss...and by
grief, that sometimes...refuses to die.

her happiness springs from shallow waters.
she regrets not, about her goals foregone,
content, that, once in her life, she had her
dreams...and wished upon many stars.

eyes and heart often wander upon hills
and valleys, she fondly calls "home,"
sun-wrapped at day, shadowed at night,
it is where her soul.....freely roams.

she is wife, mother, grandmother, sister,
a friend, a caregiver, a voice...a pursuer of
truths...all she needs to be...for the sake
of her loved ones.....she is WOMAN.

*



sally b

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   May 8, 2021
Sally A Bayan Feb 2016
( A reaction to Atul's poem, "Acknowledgement Long Due")


A well of words springs forth in every man's mind....they are either uttered...or written down...they could raise...or break,
someone's nerves, hopes or wall...

Words,  too, could be a source of strength
to be read...to be heard...channeled...offered...
to those in need of help...

Words may be a cradle....swaying.....
catching what could be falling...
or what has almost fallen...flat on the ground
a pad, that could soften the impact of a fall...

Words are a hammock, tied securely, between two trees
the trees move...but stay firm and steadfast
as the hammock swings to and fro...

I am a tree...my leaves and twigs,
being blown wild, by gusty winds
but i was swayed...i was calmed,
upon reading the words...sincere thoughts of a fellow poet...
my day was saved.

Sally

Copyright February 23, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Feb 2018
(People Alone)


Maybe it's normal...maybe it's not,
maybe, i overdo it....yet, i still do it.
i always think of things to come
...at day time....even late nights,
thinking too much of my children
my children's children...my siblings
i even think of my siblings' brood
my dear friends and their worries
...thinking how i can help them.
....later, i get weary....fed up at times,
exhausted from worrying......wondering
how i could remedy even a bit....when
my hands are not that long to reach out.
...........................................
then, i think of people who live alone,
their thoughts...their predicaments.
there are those who enjoy and
progress in their solitude....then there
are those who are given no choice,
forced.......or suddenly found themselves
in that space....souls that cope with consequences,
alone at nights...while their frustrations
breathe on them...and stare back at them.

some end up too absorbed
in their own darkness.
........................................
those lovely night falls...those resplendent
moon-glowed nights, are joined...stained
by silent lamentations.....muffled cries,
yet...playing loud as thunder,
in the high open air...
.........................................
moments of hiding and seeking linger on,
they try to seek some fun,
yet, their ghosts, make them run,
whether in the dark, or under the bright sun.
weary eyelids become heavy, like those of a swan
sleep teases like evil...a bit of painful memory, and it's gone
...one's night is done...
..........................................
and, i realize
as i think along these lines,
my worries are just pebbles, not big stones
like theirs that whir,
over and over,
like a drone.
........................
whether with company, or on their own
they are people alone...


Sally

Copyright October 24, 2017
rrab
"People alone may go very fast
But maybe not so far
Playing alone is still solitaire
Remember people alone
May reach for a love but only half as well
People alone may seem satisfied
How can they tell"

(People Alone-----sang by Randy Crawford)
Sally A Bayan Feb 2014
When inspirations burst forth,
Needing to be unleashed...
What now???
A follow up to Pradip's Writer's Block.....

It is as much a dilemma as writer's block,
When ideas flow unstoppable
Seems your hands are tied,
You don't have the means,
Not a chance to write them all down...
What a waste...........
Sally A Bayan Mar 2017
<<<>>>

It was a few inches from my rubber shoes,
i almost stepped on it!
if i had, i would forever feel guilty...
i was in shock, and....puzzled
a small yellow creature.....moving forward
when it should have moved upwards...
in its silence, its voice rang in my mind
friends had already left the area, but,
i waited....for clearance...
........hoping, to see it rise again, and.....
......redeem itself...
but,
my expectations seemed doomed
..............so, they failed
..........i finally turned to leave
......and...left its fate....
...to its empowered movers.....

It resembled a new yacht...being wheeled
by a bigger cart, towards the ocean,
for its initial dip..........
:::::::::the wings of this yellow creature
were widely spread....seemed ready to soar high
yet, it didn't move a bit...
it could no longer fly...
:::::
for the last time, i looked,
:::::::::::: and saw,
four tiny black ants, persevering,
painstakingly carrying
this dead yellow butterfly...
the trail went on and on, toward
their inconspicuous hill on the ground...

my feelings were indefinable that moment,
it was hard to speak...or decide
......ants?...... or .........butterflies?
::::: not their fault...they both matter! :::::




Sally

Copyright March 16, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Jul 2022
(Vous et moi)



I am....light,
i flicker not,
nor do i dim.
i am peaceful
as the waves of a river
on a summer day,
silent...fearless,
unshaken by events.
i am in a total calm.

I exist permanently,
and independently,
unaffected and
un-influenced
by outside forces,
i keep a close watch,
over my temple.

I am transparent,
hue-less,
yet...i acquire
the colors of
thoughts that
enslave the mind.

I fade not...i live on.
i am there on a lighted boat
sailing with you
while  struggling
through life's
troubled waters.

You have a silent,
constant dialogue with me,
that inherent energy,
dwelling inside you.

You are body,
i am soul,
“nous sommes un.”
  (we are one.)
  

sally b

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Dec 2015
........a dove,
a lamb,
     symbolizing
         peace
             humility
             obedience      
             and purity...


........with a heart
constantly wounded,
     and bleeding,
             yet...
             infinitely
             forgiving...


........light,
emitting
     warmth
          love
              compassion
                  ­understanding...
                  welcoming,
                  w­ith
                   open arms...


........a Host,
feeding
     throngs,
        multitudes...
                your
                bread,
                feeds the soul...


........a warm
    embrace...
         your love
         is
         our Shield,
         our Refuge...


(10W X 5)
*******


"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son,
that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life..."
JOHN 3:16...

*********



Sally


Copyright December 4, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Merry Christmas to eveyone, in and out of HP!!!
Love to all!!!
Sally A Bayan Dec 2014
(10W X 2)


Y o u ' r e
A name...a face,
L e T t E r S
An enigma???
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
My  lullaby
~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~
~ ~
~

I ' m
Upright
Curved
Stretched
Reaching
Holding
Back.
I'm
Your
A r a b e s q u e.




Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***these two sets, after coffee and a cookie...***
Zen
Sally A Bayan Apr 2018
Zen
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"...go to hell, purloiners!
you breached my trust...my privacy,
both, are sacred to me...
what about you?
...is anything at all sacred to you?"
:::
:::::
:::::::
It's been
three days and more,
of crossing fears...thinking,
how easily......and suddenly...
one's precious worded gems,
could be exposed to strangers' eyes...
to think that private thoughts can
no longer be private, is infuriating...
how does one deal with violated privacy?
i'm ailing...while drowning in dim streams
.....all assurances, now disputed
all negative possibilities considered
i'm paranoid...the devil is winning...

the stomach sympathizes
with a disconcerted mind
growling its discontent
creating deleterious acids...

mad, upsetting hours stay for a while
holes must be mended or patched...
what was disorganized ...must be straightened
got to start from scratch

these past evenings, i trod
through hot valleys bright with fire
burning with anger and disgust
...for, i felt betrayed,
never have i been this way before,

.....i must go back to the water.....

slowly............i wait,
'til i can look past those trees,
those walls....those worlds outside, and
from them, create a swinging hammock
tied on two coconut trees~~~then
feel a mist from a not so far clear, blue ocean
feel the breeze whisper its magic spell
to cool and melt the fires within
be at peace with everyone
with everything...

i must take hold of that space
where i'll float...and i'll forget
where i'll toy with the ripples
and be overcome
with
~~~~moments of zen~~~



Sally
...i keep on scribbling, even when i'm angry,
      'til i get to that moment of calm.
Sally A Bayan Mar 2018
(10ws x4 )



P A S S - ing
::::::::::::::
moments
::::::::::
enfeeble one
:::::::::::
mentally
:::::::::::
emotionally
:::::::::::
phys­ically,
:::::::::::
time moves
::::::::::
slowest,
::::::::::
~~~~~~~

unfocused eyes
:::::::::::::::::
numbed heart,
:::::::::::::
dreary thoughts
::::::::::::::::::
render the mind
::::::::::
WEARY
::::::::::
~~~~~~~

be obeisant
:::::::::::::::
body and mind
:::::::::::::::
flow,
:::::::::::::::::::
harmonize,
:::::::­:::::
recapture
::::::::::::::::
lost CHI
:::::::::::::::
~~~~~~

wind enfolds,
::::::::::::::::
heals the soul,
::::::::::::::::
positive air
:::::::::::::::
f r e s h e s t,
:::::::::::::::
at  SUNRISE
:::::::::::
~~~~~~~

(PEACE  to everyone. Good morning!)


Sally

Copyright September 2, 2015
rrab
*** P A S S = pain, anger, sadness, .........
*** (i forgot what the second S stands for)

— The End —