Grief
Is never brief.
It doesn't go away.

It claws on the heart,
When thinking of loved ones gone.
We are in a Deep we wouldn't want to rise from,
We recall, for we still want to be with the ones we lost,
Even by grieving.
We may or may never grasp the reason
Why it happened.
It is hard to cope,
Mental, emotional and
Psychological pains are all present.
They are  blades of grass
On blazing hot
Summer days, when
They are too dry, overgrown.
We bleed, when they cut us
With their sharpened edges.

Grief is day and night.
When shining bright, slashing, piercing the chest,
Some moments,
it is calm as the night,
It does not hurt so
bad,
We get by like normal days,
Like the newly mowed grass,
When
they are just sprouting from the ground
They  brush our skin, touch our feet,
Almost unnoticed,
With very little  effect....

They say that time can heal sorrow,
Maybe so, but definitely, not by tomorrow...
Grief settles down momentarily,
But it rarely disappears completely...


Sally


Below is the original, my very personal version of GRIEF, my own experiences lie therein, but then, too much use of I and ME is sometimes, annoying,  I thought it best to use WE  in the version above...I would be lying if I said I did not like or prefer the original version, for it touches me more...


~~~~~~~~~~~

PERSONAL VERSION----SEPT. 4, 2014---9:03 AM

GRIEF

Grief
Is never brief.
It doesn't go away.

It claws on my heart,
When thinking of my loved ones gone.
I am in a Deep I wouldn't want to rise from,
I have realized,
I often recall, for I still
want to be with the ones I lost,
Even by grieving.
I may, or may never grasp the reason
Why it happened.
It is hard to cope,
Mental, emotional and
Psychological pains are all present.
They are  blades of grass
On blazing hot summer days, when
They are too dry, overgrown,
I bleed, when they cut me,
With their sharpened edges...

Grief is day and night...
When shining bright,
It slashes, pierces my chest.
But there are moments,
It is calm as the night,
It does not hurt me so bad,
Just like normal days, I get by, just sad.
Like the newly mowed grass,
When they are just sprouting from the ground
They  brush my skin, touch my feet,
Almost unnoticed,
With very little  effect.

They say that time can heal sorrow,
Maybe so, but definitely, not by tomorrow.
Grief settles down
momentarily,
But it rarely disappears completely.


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A, Bayan

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

... ||| ...

It matters not,
if we're young or old
fair-skinned, or colored
rich or poor...smiling or pouting
our lives...our days are never easy
we either worsen, or lessen our load
each time we make up our minds,
through the choices
we make  
:::
in the midst of our daily grind
fashion statements take a big part
with nuances that define our style,
ease and comfort are emphasized
choices range from loud or vibrant
to subdued, or
not too obvious  colors...
:::
that morning,
we did tiptoes...and diagonal stretches
leaps.....kicks....slower wu shu, and
other  movements....we hopped with
a turn...and then back on the ground,
the world didn't reel...not at all dizzy
no aches from lower extremities
arches  were just fine
feet were still feeling light...
:::
i am cool, i am hip
i walk with dapper steps
in pants, skirt or dress
i move with ease
very comfortable
with low cut
:::
most of all, i have no qualms
if i would be standing up to my last step
or, if i would be led to an early fall
i feel confident
when wearing my
yellow
converse sneakers.
:::
it could be a pair of converse
or ordinary sneakers
a size larger, or just right
as long as we feel a calm content
no pricking on the mind and chest
because, we hurt no one
we do what is right
for the good of all

in making choices in life,
shoes, or otherwise
let's do what won't make us reel, or fall down
let there be balance...in heart and mind
let us be steadfast as we
stand on the ground.



Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
September 4, 2017

It is somewhere in your face
You try so hard to hide it,
But it’s there…
In your actions,
It shines brightly
In your words,
I hear it loud and clear.

It has become a shaft of light,
Emitting a kind of brightness
Only I can understand
For time has honed
This perceptive mind……

It would have been better
If I had lost my memory,
I'd be free from anger and hate,
I wish I were wrong
I wish I were without a sight,
For then I won’t be able to see
The guilt that is all over you.


Sally




Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

🌑

Through a DARK, treed space
a selfish beam lights slim path
this DARK, moonless night.

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

skin is all goose bumps
cold, scared of this patch of BLACK
my pupils dilate,

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


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    July 19, 2019

Serendipity
is a random surprise,
like a handkerchief
suddenly present
to wipe off sweat,
timidity, fear, anxiety,
and also ice that have
been broken...and
have melted.

The air,
once cold with worries,
suddenly warms  up  
and beams with  comfort.
and confidence.

Serendipity,
brings about miracles
tugging on its tail,
for a soul merely grasping
for an invisible bar, with
almost zero percent of hope,
ready to fall……..or, maybe,

for two persons bound by love,
a beautiful, unexpected
chance meeting can do so much.

Serendipity
is a white handkerchief
brought out of the pocket
or bag…fallen from the sky,
fragrant with fresh hope
and good luck.



sally b

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

November 7, 2022

::::

::::::::

Sky is a blend of pink-orange-violet,
dim...but birds are already awake
steaming coffee wakes the senses
rooster calls on and on.....its silhouette
completes the early morning landscape...

it's that perfect moment...when
tradewinds blow...carrying scents
of the harvest season............when
horizon turns to the clearest of blue,
the eyes feast upon moving straw hats
...big and small.....

under the radiant morning sun
sparrows fly high and low
over lush golden fields of rice,
stems are now bowed....grains are ripe...

maidens' sweet voices join the air
hands and sickles move with flair
cutting.......in practiced strokes,
small hills are formed from gathered stalks
feet move in their rhythmic walks
laughter and conversations become songs
their cadence, brought by joys of the season,
weary thoughts have no space.....no reason
to exist, when sounds of glee are seizin' in...

hours can't be stilled.....excitement sobers
sun gives way to the moon and stars,
sickles are kept....laid beside mortars
and pestles......voices turn softer,
waning...slowly fading...into dark corners

................soon, crickets' song takes over...

when harvest moon glows, a breathing silence
rules over the shadows of the field...no fences,
just the moon watching, and a Guiding Presence...

thank God for another bountiful harvest
threshing awaits....but bodies are spent
..............tomorrow's another day!



Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 15, 2018



::::

::::::::

Have You Ever-

felt the blazing sun too hot, it ****** your skin?
then, suddenly, falls a downpour of raindrops so thin.


Have you ever
seen steam rise from hot surfaces doused by the rain?
have your hands, ever
let go of a hot plate, or a hot pan due to burns and pain?

Have you ever
stopped to think and wonder
why...........why
when so inspired
your flow of rhymes
in midstream, suddenly dies?

Have you ever
reached that point, where
the minutes, hours,
days, weeks, months of each year,
where...every breath you take,
is wasted waiting? And for your sake,
every drop of patience...you manage to imbibe,
and then you fight, every struggling second in your life.

Have you ever felt.....a brokenness
a spreading...widening blackness?
numbed you in the heat; in the cold, you almost froze
your lips do bleed...but no one sees, til they're too close
because, you cover them with bright colors...for show
you bear no signs of belligerence      
your pained moans and screams of resistance,
............................fall,
and get lost in a dark abyss...a  huge hole
...you open your mouth...
and, like a wind that howls....you shout,
in that immeasurable depth, your voice glows, like embers,
yet, nobody knows...it's you, who always remembers.

You, are soaking wet...tap water continues to pour
bath tub overfills with stained, pained water all over the floor
the anesthetized edges of your brokenness, now cooled...softened,
go down the drain, and there, they get to be unfettered,
they flow out of your system, these bottled feelings;
even a brief moment of break...of freedom,
should be appreciated...

Have you ever thought of gratitude?


Sally


Copyright May 21, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

...........all that you are............

  i
   am
    not

       ........except..........

      our
  
          .........heartbe­ats............



              Sally

              Copyright 2013
               Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

It starts with HI! or HELLO!
a timid eagerness slowly rises...and implodes,
then, comes a wary handshake...lo and behold,
both smile shyly, as sweet conversation follows,

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

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

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

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


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    March 29, 2020

:::::::::::.................:::::::::::

Here, in this sacred space...
   :::::::::.............:::::::::
...where curtains and breeze
.....dance and tease,

...no words are uttered, i hear nothing
.........except my breathing
eyes roam, legs are crossed, as if to rule,
determined....as a stubborn mule

here in this sacred space, i have a regular
dialogue with my Creator....my Saviour,
     ::::::::::::::::..........................::::::::::::::::::
thro­ugh His mysterious ways, He speaks to me
i am drawn to a quietude that flows from Him.
...........this noiseless space talks to me...
it's not the words...something else takes over
.....and enfolds me........especially,  when
fragmented moments start to stir my heart,
...i lose them all....when i hold my breath
when my mouth has ceased, my words on  a halt,
...........i am suspended.....far from the noise
.....................of the outside world...
:::::::::::::::
here in this sacred space, i am with my loved one,
         ::::::::::::::::..........................:::::::::::::::::::
tho­ugh distant............the world is...ours,
we're in deep conversation that could last a day
we are ourselves, naked..wearing no false pretenses
...we are timeless...we are one...the two of us...
::::::::::::
here, in this sacred space...rich with
......an imperturbable stillness
..........my mind is overwhelmed
...by a silence.....so eloquent.......
   ::::::::::::...................::::::::::::


Sally


Copyright June 25, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Most of us grew up believing
that after death is when one  
gets to face heaven or hell;
but, as the earth gets older,
people's eyes and minds
change with the times, turning
deeper, coming up with various
analyses and conclusions.

Some fight for what they think,
that there already exists
heaven and hell here on earth.
to experience any of the two,
we......don't have to die.

While here on earth, we see
and live...we experience
the good and the bad, and
whatever is in between; we
breathe a mix of fresh and
stale air...survive countless
hardships, physical, mental
and emotional struggles,
are we already being
rewarded, maybe being
punished, for whatever
we deserve?

At this point, i remember
my folks words:  reward
and punishment starts
here on earth, while we still
breathe and have lucid minds
to identify the colors of our
past actions and decisions,
were they right or wrong?


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 29, 2024

They stopped,
from what they were busy with
and rushed to where they knew
they could be of sevice..to rescue,
lead to safer grounds, those driven out
of their homes, their lands...those who've
gone thirsty, gone hungry....gone cold

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

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

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

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


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
January 16, 2020

I don't know why headless gargoyles
suddenly came to my mind
they terrified me then and now
it made me ask myself, why...how,
some people see beauty in them
...when to me, they look utterly scary...
i wondered about Venus de Milo,
why show an almost **** gorgeous body, with
no arms....could there be beauty in cut arms?
why do i dwell on these things.......when
there's nothing heroic about these two?

i should be grateful, for yesterday's
family bonding with someone who retired
from the navy...for talks about experiences,
government, hiroshima, and nuclear bombs,
moments of reminiscing, strumming and
jamming...sharing good food and laughter.
i did thank God.....

today is labor day...and images of years back,
thoughts of fearful days come back.
i watched past violent rallies on tv...saw some
kinds of marchers, those with unfocused eyes
ready to die....those faithless ones, with their
own agenda, disregading innocent victims.
in every protest march...not all participants,
share the same cause...some are users,
some are blinded by their lost causes...not
all those honored did heroic acts, and deserve
sweet praises, folded flags and gun salutes...
not all heroes......are true heroes....
my heart goes out to those real heroes.

Sally

Copyright May 1, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Consciences disallow,

Morals dictate,

:::::::::::::::::::
Crossing of

Paths,
:::::::::::::::::::

Must

Never

Be...

:::::::

Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Consciences disallow,

Morals dictate,

:::::::::::::::::::
Crossing of

Paths,
:::::::::::::::::::

Must

Never

Be...

:::::::

Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

(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

(parts of an old poem-edited)

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



Sally


©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 28, 2019

(Whispers)
~~~~~~~

can you feel us?
do you know we are just beside you?


how do we make you feel we are, right now,

patting your back, trying to make your tears go away,

telling you how sorry we are for having left so soon?

there are things that happen which are incomprehensible

the reasons, as well, are beyond our understanding.

how do we assure you, enlightenment, acceptance

will come, in God's time?


our hands are so light, we couldn't hold you, like we did before,

our kisses on your forehead, are like a feather's touch,

but never do touch...how we wish you'd feel

how we encircle you with our embraces....


how do we whisper in your ears,

let you know, we are now above all dangers,

here, where there are no more fears, only calm waters

no more fires that ****, only gentle sun shining all over

not even a shred of violence in the minds, in the winds...

we are in a place where the arms of serenity extends...


and yet, we... we find ourselves still unsettled,

we still do not have that perfect peace,

just by  knowing...


how much you are hurting....

~~~~~~~


(for Maria and family)



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

a gecko in an aquarium
was my roommate...
not at all my idea of a pet,
but we shared a room, she and i...
i would warm her with soft light
at night time,
let her sleep with lights out
during the day...
fed her with worms,
young insects, water to drink...
nobody knew or noticed
what ever happened,
never seen what may have conspired
inside that lonely aquarium
where she'll be forever confined
'til the day she dies.

one sleepless night, while writing
'neath the soft glow of the lamp,
a tiny winged creature
slowly crawls, then stops
beside my left foot
resting down on the floor.
nothing to swat it with,
i shove it off my foot with one hand.
it would appear one time,
i would drive it away...
it would hide somewhere,
only to appear again later.
the movements flow,
this would go on,
until finally, i would fall asleep.

same things would happen
In the nights that would follow,
until i sort of await its presence...
it would keep still,
right at the center of the carpet,
wait for that shove or push,
so we could start our dance,
'til we both get tired...
when it would vanish,
and i, would soon
be left dreaming,
...in deep, deep slumber...

(Thank you, Soul in torment, for your "wing-ed friend...")


Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

/ /  /
\  \  \


I am human,
my thoughts are where
strong desires dwell
rushing up...wishing to be heard
by the Almighty

i see
the tall bamboo trees out there
reaching.......seeking,
when winds come...they obey
and bend their heads down as they sway
they bow to the earth...accepting limits
acknowledging obedience
to One.

the slim bamboo leaves softly rustle,
as if in agreement...and i look down...

trees and i are calmed...and overcome,
by a merciful Presence,
in a soothing silence encompassing,
we are humbled...

Sally

Copyright  November 5, 2017
rrab

Still without sleep this early hour,
watching waves of scenes,
almost there, atop a soundless calm,
lines, within my grasp....when
suddenly.......and loudly,
flapping wings and proud crowing
shatter dawn's placid moments...

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

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

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

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



Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August  2019)

-----
---
-

This isn't about being numbed,
or blinded....and most definitely
not being an ingrate.

an eerie feeling came with a breeze:
a  life of long ago
came back......and lingered,
fed my hungry mind with
resurrected difficult moments.

there were tears.....and  laughter,
our feelings, our heartbeats were heard,
we had that kind of warmth...a nearness
only we, could possess.

t'was like brewing coffee....waiting,
'til bubbles started seething,
aroma and taste were satisfying,
steam...evaporating.
what remained in the carafe
got cold...became  stale and rough
to the mouth.
confused heart,
refused to fall apart.
how hard it had been at the start,
our kites flew high
so did our sighs.

how could expected changes,
how could progress be trailed by an emptiness?
why did i hear a pricking whisper of discontent?

plans didn't stop........i thought,
half the ladder was high enough.
:::::::::
somewhere along the way
....why did love have to stray?

a smoke of displeasure
took a long while...to disappear
:::::

in those times of simple dreams,
our humble needs and wants did scream
some days may have been dim,
still................we were a team.


...i miss...those hungry years...
-----
---
-



Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 1, 2018

(a repost, from 2014)



two hands,
reach and hold,
entwine...reassure...

the eyes meet,
speak without words...

hearts beat
in one rhythm...
beating faster,
breath upon breath
as
two lips
press upon each other,
intense kisses ensuing...

feet,
in a huddled language,
toes, touching

two bodies,
sharing warmth,
sharing love,
sharing moments sublime...
immeasurable bliss,
undeniably
~~~d i v i n e~~~


Sally


Copyright January 28, 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

~~~~~
two hands,
reach and hold,
entwine, reassure...

the eyes meet,
speak without words...

hearts beat
in one rhythm...
beating faster,
breath upon breath
as...
two lips
press upon each other,
intense kisses ensuing...

feet...
in a huddled language,
toes, touching...

two bodies,
sharing warmth,
sharing love,
sharing moments sublime...
immeasurable bliss,
undeniably
~~~d i v i n e~~~


(October 21, 2013 ...3:30 AM)

~~~~~~~

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

(A series of couplets, from 2014...edited)




Though I AM fast like an arrow,
i hear, even your silent bellows,

for, I AM the COLORED ARC above your cloud
when heavy rains are no longer around.

I AM THE LIGHT...i melt and clear the gloom,
when gray days seem to be spreading doom.

I AM your  ARMOUR, your SHIELD,
when you're without strength, and stilled,

when you feel weak...when moments are bleak,
i prop you up...and when you're unable to speak,

I AM your VOICE, your WORDS, your ECHO
your guide flying by...I AM your SPARROW.

I AM the reason you are calm and mellow
I AM with you, in waters deep and shallow

I AM both your RAINBOW
.......and your SHADOW

I   AM    A L L
That can make you WHOLE.  

I am with you, here, there, everywhere
all times...and that means, FOREVER.


Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   (from June 13, 2014)
December 9, 2020

From one shaft of a sparkle, i bounced
Like in a magical moment....i flounced


I leapt to the heavens, shot like an arrow,
For all to see... I AM YOUR RAINBOW
THE COLORED ARC ABOVE YOUR CLOUD
When rains and thunderstorms are no longer around.

There are days, gray colors seem to be spreading doom
I AM THE LIGHT that melts and clears the gloom


When blue skies dim during the day
I'd soon be near you, I'd surely find a way


When you are without strength, and stilled,
I AM YOUR ARMOUR, YOUR SHIELD,


When unable to speak,
I AM YOUR WORDS, YOUR VOICE, YOUR ECHO
From behind, I prop you up, let bleak moments go,
I AM YOUR CANE, YOUR WALL, YOUR SHADOW


I AM  ALL
That would make you WHOLE


Through all kinds of weather
Well, that sounds like forever
I will always be your RAINBOW
The dark would later turn me into your SHADOW
I AM saying, there's no stopping me
This is how it's going to be
For, I HAVE BEEN,
I AM,
and I WILL ALWAYS BE
Please, don't fight, just come be with me

...and just..let me be.


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

....and nowhere near the sea................yet,
there is much around me, to pamper my soul...
i stand in the middle of the backyard
facing the old, mossy concrete fence...
a shady jackfruit tree greets me,
ninety degrees to my left, a tall breadfruit tree
towers over me...both, are with a fruit...or three...
further back, a young coconut tree grows taller,
bends towards the spiky pomelo branches
and completes the square of a hunting arena,
a mess hall for creatures...in the heat of day,
or in the cold of the night...
::::::::
Then, there are these small corners
on the left and right sides of the house
where sunrise peeks, and sunset dips,
smiling, in the morning, in shades of yellow,
tints of red, purple and blue on late afternoons...
a night sky eventually looms, and further enchants
when an ivory, or creamy moon rises,
in soft-toned glow,..waxing, or waning
......half, full, or crescent-shaped...
::::::::
i could fill this page with neighbors i co-exist with,
both human, and otherwise, brightly colored, furry,
or dark-skinned...could be friendly.....or unfriendly
they make me sad...giggle...sometimes, angry,
they amaze me...they all fill my days with wonder
each time I wander
within the corners and walls
that attest to my presence
safely propped,
by the steel beams.......of my existence...

::::::::

Sally


Copyright January 12, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

(a repost from 2014...edited)


I AM GRATEFUL---
for having my family
they are safe and healthy
we have roof over our heads and
clothes to keep us warm
there is always food on our table...

I AM GRATEFUL, THAT ---
on each new day,  i am able to
get up, alone...without much effort
can wash my face, brush my teeth,
clean my bathroom regularly
take a shower on my own
cook what i want to eat,
eat alone...
change the curtains in my bedroom
change my bedsheets without help,
as often as i want to...

I AM GRATEFUL THAT I ---
still celebrated another birthday
will still be able to say THANK YOU!
with family and friends on Thanksgiving day
make scary decors for Halloween
deck our house with a tree and lanterns before December
hung stars, angels in corners and in between
am strong enough to put them all away when Christmas is over...


I AM GRATEFUL I AM STILL---
able to witness
how a night of fireworks and celebrations
easily segues into a day of new beginnings...


I AM GRATEFUL THAT I CAN WRITE---
share my thoughts, my moments,
look back to the past with a smile,
find contentment where i am now,
still look forward to my future,
wake up to each new day
and another.......and
another.....and
another...
and
A N O T H E R .


Thanksgiving must come with every breath
For we are showered with Blessings without end...


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

    
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
#blessings   #gratitude   #thanksgiving   #celebrations

I Am Like My Mother

In more ways than one,
I am like my mother....
This stands before anything else:
My family is my priority
I preach to respect seniority
But, sometimes I go soft
Upon hearing pleas from little voices.

My life is replete with family albums,
Sturdy wood furnitures that have lived
Through the years, and most importantly,
Old family traditions my siblings and I
Learned from my mother.
I would prefer for these to be observed
By the succeeding generations,
Where love and kindness to others,
Table manners and saying graces are only
A few of those lessons most often stressed.

The children in my family,
Thy grew up the way I was raised.
Humility is practiced at an early age,
Where no child speaks when not spoken to,
And helping with  the chores is a must...
They are taught early on in their childhood
As soon as they are able to understand...
We have a God, our Creator,
To whom we should always be grateful to....
From Him comes all our countless blessings...

My sisters and I...
We are like a sorority.
Hopefully, the other women in my family
Would eventually realize,
There is an expectation
That my mother's ways should be kept going...
This, my sisters and I would make sure of.

Each morning, my mother would look around
The whole house and its boundaries,
With both her arms akimbo.
Now, it is I who does the surveying,
But, with my hands clasped behind me.
Front, back and sides of the house
All kinds of plants and trees surround...
I make sure they are all green and lush.
Fruit trees and flowering plants in the summer,
Several wild flowers do sprout all year round,
To grace our lives through all kinds of weather.

My mother and I, we had an implied agreement,
We didn't discuss it, never brought it up
In any family gatherings.
It just happened that I knew her so well.
Now that I'm older, I've never been so sure...
I am like my mother,
In more ways than one...

(Written August 28, 2013)


Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

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



I cannot not remember my mother,
whatever time...whatever day,
during work or while viewing sunsets
while relaxing...or while too stressed,
her face...smiling or wearing a frown,
or a tune of a song she used to sing,
all these hover over everything
around me, they dangle like tassels
of memories,
they make me recall more.

I cannot not remember the scents
of flowers in my mother's garden
that she used to grow and love,
for they all still exist  in my garden,
dishes she used to cook for us,
I now cook for my own family.

When a breeze brushes over me,
i cannot not remember, how in the
early mornings of her life, my mother
had rushed to the church, to hear
mass...to serve God 'til the last days
of her life...she did, in every way.

I cannot not remember my own mother,
for i saw in her how to be a mother
and a grandmother
with love, extreme effort and care.


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
February 24, 2024

(haiku x 5)

Sharp teeth of winter
Punctured flesh, body, and soul,
Statues squeezed amongst

Cold doves, deer...standing
In an iced menagerie,
Crystalled, unmoving.

Eyes, mind.....blazed, like sun,
Thawing stilled life...frozen love,
Til pulse IS revived,

Til warm mem'ries roll
Til warm blood, through my veins flow
Til warm teardrops.....fall.

And I...must now leave.
This stolid, indiff'rent stage,
I can stand no more.


Sally

Copyright 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Icing...

This Sunday morning dawned so differently
I woke up to a lively disposition
The fresh air surrounding me smells of flowers
so rose-fragrant..

This early, I think of you.....

And I see the cream on my coffee
The strawberry jam on my toast

I feel I have plenty of honey to sweeten my lemonade
On a hot summer day


A dash of pepper....plus,
A pinch of a bay leaf,
To enhance the taste of my
Chicken Adobo...


Always, on late night snacks,
You are the ice cream topping
On my slice of apple pie,


The bubbles in my glass of wine
When I am celebrating,
When basking in your presence,
In our happy moments together...


I'll even tell you
You are some kind of sweet music
To start the good memories flowing
When we are apart...


I am thinking,
Even in the years to come,
You shall always be the finishing touch...
The icing,
To complete my whole being...

In my life,
I have never been so certain....


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

By the bay window, I sit.....
I turn to look around,
With a sigh......

This silence that surrounds me
Is not silence at all...no, it doesn't help a bit...
Even the low-lighted lamp
Couldn't still this agitated heart of mine...
My body is being pulled from up,
Something else is pulling it downwards.
I feel I have to go outside
And chase a flying balloon in the dark,
While I hesitate to even leave this room....

I always fall victim to this restiveness
That nightly prevails upon me......
Nights when I am stripped of my usual aplomb.
Back and forth I walk,
Several times I look out the window
As I go through long tormenting moments
That don't seem to end.
Still, I am awake at this late, late hour,
.........waiting for you............
.........wanting you................
.........longing for you............

I keep tossing and turning,
The whole bed is awry
Pillows are almost torn in two
Sheets are crumpled,  and
Almost peeled away from the mattress....
.........all lie in disarray...........

The bedroom is a mess,
Even my mind, I confess.

With a sigh,
I turn to look around,
By the bay window, I sit.


Sally


   Copyright 2013
    Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

(10W X 6)

I rush,
wherever...
....whenever...
.......however...
N O T H I N G
stops me
.....except
:::::GOD:::::  

I move
.....through surfaces,
N O T H I N G
holds me still.
.....except
:::::GOD:::::

I find ways
to nurture life,
so others may live:::::

I EXPLODE,
.....claim lives, too...
N O B O D Y
......stops me
.....except
:::::GOD:::::

N O     O N E
.....can walk
.........over me
.....without
.........sinking
.....except
:::::GOD:::::

I couldn't
~~~have been
~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~
~~ w a t e r ~~
~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~
if it weren't for
:::::GOD:::::


Sally

Copyright March 27, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

I Don't Have The Heart

0
    /\    0
     /\   /\

A  shower cooled us last night,
this morning is kind of drought-y.
one of those dry spell days.
everything is awry, misplaced,
displaced, or has to be replaced,
all sorts of problems, deadlines overwhelm me.

There are no developments or
movements outside to notice...
everything is still,
the leaves are motionless,
not even a whiff of a wind
to make the chimes move.
no colorful flowers, not even a bird in sight.
i am thinking the trees are bare,
the front garden is a desert.

Nobody wants to sit on the steel-hot garden seats
the rocking chair is like a statue
everything else is frozen....
except the hot, steaming temperature today.
nobody wants to sit on the steel-hot garden seats,
because i told everyone to leave me alone for a while...
because i couldn't let them see i was going through hell.

How do i free myself from this band
that confines every movement
of body and mind...
from being riveted to the chair where i sit?

I crossed my leg, swung it up and down
somebody almost got kicked...suddenly
small hands wrap my shoulders...
a small head rests on my chest,
as one thin thigh slowly lands on my lap...
i feel a warm breath on my left cheek,
a soft, gentle voice comes through my left ear:
"Hug, mama Sal...."
I don't have the heart
to ignore, or refuse a request from an angel,
my youngest granddaughter, Elisha Mae.....
her innocent eyes almost level with mine...

I hugged her back, planted kisses on top of her head
hummed softly and cradled her...
this lasted longer than expected
i had thought she was already asleep...
but my angel's attention was caught
by her sisters' shrieking, out in the garden...
angel ******, in a jiffy, my lap was empty
she joined her sisters, shouted with them,
swimming, having fun in their big vinyl pool...

I watched them from where I sat,
experiencing a different kind of joy,
as i listened to their voices, to the
splashing of water and all their other noises.
they will all calm down in a while, i expect...

The heavy feeling comes back, i realize,
the weighty anvil still exists
dimming the clarity, the flow...
here i am now, still struggling
with thoughts and words
misplaced
displaced, and those that must be
replaced...
i see no progress, there are still deadlines,
i am nowhere near restful waters...

But, i eagerly wait for this day,
this weighty dry spell day to pass...
this time, without shame, i shall  ask
reassuring hugs from my angel,
like a child, i shall tell her how
her warm, refreshing hugs could heal me, and
how i dread the thought of falling, sinking deeper,
down the sleepy waters of this River Lull.

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

**
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

....................so let me narrate
about the rain and sun...off and on, they alternate
i wait......i sigh when my moon is not there, and night is late,
no moon tonight...just rain, it's mist wakes me often nowadays
my eyes squint, and blink...to clear off the gloom, the gray,

the sky is sadly white this morning
ashen.....like my thoughts... paling
trees are stilled.... rooster is crowing
rain, from the leaves are dripping

i must not be swayed by the vast grieving skies
may there be no tears falling from my eyes
let me hear angels' laughter and giggles, instead of cries
let me share their pain
i wish to see them smiling again
let me speak to God
stand with my moon up above

i seek Him now
i so need Him now
He seems too far to hear
yet, i know, i feel...He is always near

there...at the verandah these past nights
i've been waiting for that magical glow of light
a sign...that my hopes and prayers may soon take flight
be heard,  and granted...after this dark, rainy night...

calendar says it won't be soon....
though i'm grateful for a quarter...it's a boon
but, i really want it full...so, i wait for my august moon.


Sally

Copyright August 8, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

☘️☘️☘️

It's wonderful to be
a freshly blooming rose,
seen by everyone's eyes
given special names,
and compared with other
grown blooms.

But...

I'd rather be free from
everyone's attention,
i prefer to grow, to bloom
without much effort,
to sprout amongst the grass,
on some random garden spots,
to persist to exist, to breathe
even among crevices.

I'd rather be a wildflower
unannounced, unmaintained
yet, beautifully unique,
and with much freedom.

Upon me, others may tread,
but, i don't die easily,
i persevere, and then
in due time, i rise again.


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
MAY 16, 2024

(one of the many dances in life)
    10w x 6

If i have in my palms
what i've long wanted

If it slowly disappears
from my grasp
against my will

If i try to catch it
but
still falls down

If i lose it
despite my struggles,
my efforts...and

If...deep inside
i feel
a sense of finality...then

Maybe,
it's not mine to hold
...have to let go.


Sally

Copyright October 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

.....dark and bitter.......it delights me
.........to watch...as rich cream
......invades the dark brown stream
......while rises....a shy, white steam

they fight in beautiful swirls,
the dark, against lighter twirls
teaspoon dips...as tiny drops hurl
....teaspoon moves clockwise,
......others do it counter clockwise...
....the swirls persevere, they stick it  out,
eventually, they merge, and.......even out...

...lovely autumn colors they create
...a sweet, calming scent permeates
...my nostrils....my mind...my soul,
...i close my eyes, when i want to stall
  .... its smell wakes me...keeps me from a fall...

i'm always captured by their bubbly tawny color
so, i drink both black and creamed....yes...i'm a lover
still, i prefer my coffee.........dark and bitter....


Sally


Copyright September 28, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

I have walked my paved and beaten roads
crossed my old and new bridges
and jumped my low and high hurdles,
unrelentingly... allowing nothing...or no one
to rise before me...and tell me : you are wrong,
when, i feel it so strong...that i am right!
no reason could be saner than what I've been taught
no voice, could be more reasonable...or gentler
than those voices of my folks...my childhood...my past,
nothing, or, no one...can ever destroy...or impede
this bursting...yet tempered love within...
i let it grow, the right way i know
i let it nourish my soul,
for, it saves me...from sunrise, to moon glow...


Sally

Copyright June 16, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

(Haiku x 7)

Ears are blocked...deafened 
Conversations are ignored
Disconnected.....though

Weary mind needs rest,
Wary, half-closed eyes make sure
  World...still exists...while

Aerosmith rocks me!
AHA takes me on...Go West?
Yes! Hall & Oates, too!

OMD's Secret
ABC sings Ocean Blue
All my dreams came true!

Eurythmics sings dreams
I love how the Bee Gees ask,
"How deep is your love?"

Chaka Khan pledges:
"For a chance at loving you...
Even through the fire...."

MP3 takes me...
To dip...to wade...an escape
~~~ imperturbable ~~~



Sally


Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

In a rare moment of serenity,
Is where I suddenly find myself.
Unusually, no one seems interested
In whatever I am busy with.
I am finally alone....by the sea...
I sit back on my chaise lounge, I close my eyes.

The music of the wind blowing
Sends me drifting.....
Takes me to a secluded place.
In its midst stands a big house,
Its high concrete walls, impenetrable,
Like those of a castle,
With all its trappings and imperfections.

Upon its portals, I hesitated....then stopped.
They were all so familiar,
The house, the door, the windows,
The curtains, too....
My stomach started acting up...
I was sweating  as I remembered...
It was where I once lived,
A life full of restrictions...
Imprisoned was I
Within its walls of silence...

Filled with dread,
I quickly gasped for air...
All set to flee from those cold scary walls
That terrified me so....
I turned to run,
But I couldn't take the first step,
My feet were frozen, like those of a statue.........
I couldn't move at all, when.....

Suddenly,
Thunder roared, lightning flashed...
A strong wind blew, and the rains came
At the same time...
Raindrops and some dry leaves
Started falling on my face,
Like confetti from above....
They tickled my nose, and
I sneezed back to reality,
Away from that nightmare of long ago...

I blinked a few times as
A wave splashed against the shore, and
Brought a taste of salt to my lips.
My past, these new beginnings and
Second chances that surround me now.....
All these things made me realize that
Nothing stays forever.....
Permanent is not at all permanent.....
Only GOD is........


I am now calm as the sea in summer....
Still alone....undisturbed....
In a rare moment of serenity....

Sally


Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan