They reside between pages of
magazines, books or journals.
some are yellow...some, white,
jaundiced
by neglect and by time,
lined or otherwise, upon which
are written spur of the moment
thoughts, maybe some nagging
experiences that can't be forgot.
they live amongst fellow papers,
unexplored,
crumpled, dog-eared.

Sun and moon
alternate,
while the unknown
waits.

Finally,
when found again,
the desire to resurrect
rings and echoes like an
indiscreet chime;
suddenly,
a crowd of ideas confuse
the hand and pen...soon
enough, words fall into their
proper places...old scribbled
notes, rediscovered and
revivified, a new poem is born.

Some, unfortunately,
are deleted unconsciously,
or thrown away accidentally,
some are purposely hidden
amongst life's in-betweens.

sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
  June 25, 2024

I was swimming in a stream of sounds:
Voices, motors, cars honking, whistles,
But all faded as soon as the trip was over.
Alighting from the back,
I followed with hurried steps.

While walking,
A kaleidoscope of your daily activities
Played through my mind, over and over...
Today, I didn't hear the sound of your yawning,
Also, you missed your garden visit
This early morning.....
.............you couldn't, because.............
You lay there, snoring,
So calm in your sleep.
The small bed, in a room
With that familiar smell of disinfectants....
The crumpled sheets that wrapped your body,
No fresh flowers on your bedside..
You wouldn’t have approved of all these....
But you were seemingly uncaring.
There was only the deep sound of your breathing.
I saw your chest rise and fall rhythmically.
It was cold in the room......
Your feet were getting cold, too...
I held my beads tighter.

Suddenly,
The deafening silence was disrupted.
Words I could hardly understand
Were softly uttered, the voices unrecognizable.
I rushed out of the room, down to the garden.....
But the whispers became more audible,
Blown towards my face by a gentle breeze.
Even as I sat on a secluded bench,
I heard the same things over and over,
Like a broken record.

I fled back to the room and covered my ears,
To shut out the voices.
Then I noticed, you were ominously still,
Snoring no more...............
………......breathing no more.

**** these murmurs of death!
Like a swarm of bees, they followed me,
Buzzing monotonously what  I refused to hear.
They were in their highest note....
In unison, they were
Celebrating victory......
In  cacophony...
--------------
Sally


Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

I am an adult,
But a child is how I see myself.
Some may speak of my strength
My capabilities and tolerance.
They say, in any circumstance
I have perseverance
And endurance.
These are praises that are sugar and spice
When my days are not so nice,
And yet, there's a feeling, a knowing,
Without you, I am nothing
Your stretched hand, I would always be needing,

During not so good times, you said, it is okay to cry
Told me to stand up, through the hurting hours that would go by
For, I must learn of the bright and faded colors of life again and again
How it is to walk under the sun, or through the pouring rain
So, I will appreciate joy even more, after the pain.

The warmth of your embrace
Are my weapons when scary moments I have to face
Thinking...I could have been lost
Worrying...what would've been the cost?
Errors at this point in my life, I could no longer afford
I must listen, careful not to miss your words.
There's this questioning fear,
"What if I soon leave this world?" a thought so drear
Often whispered in my ear
Something I would rather not hear,
Yet, you see me through, with your advice,
Nothing could be truer...I don't have to think twice.
From the start, you have  loved me,
In fact, you have spoiled me
I feel, I believe, you'll never tire of me.

In your assurance, in
Your undying love,
I have become inebriated...
To you, I can not hide the truth
To you, I will admit without a doubt,
My GOD,
I am, and will forever be, YOUR child....



Sally

Copyright January 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

(A Stir of Fear)

A deep sigh seemed to have done some good.
Looking at her, anticipating, expecting...
Waiting for friends to arrive
In a place unknown to us both....
So lovely in her silence,
While going through a moment of anxiety.
It creates within me, a STIR OF FEAR...
Must I leave her? I must teach her, to be on her own,
Now...now? But how? Oh, how it breaks me...
There she stands, tall, in her black shirt,
Walking shorts, rubber shoes, backpack and
Electric guitar hanging on her shoulders...
Her hair, gathered in a bun at the back....
So naive, simply, effortlessly beautiful.
How do you let go of your eldest,
First granddaughter...soon to be sixteen,
When you are fully aware of the perils
That surround the outside world,
Even in broad daylight?
Aware of her innocence, her beauty, and
Most importantly,
The elements that could jeopardize her safety .....
Do I wait for her?
Do I watch her while with her friends?
Let her know, I mistrust everyone around her?
Almost told her I would wait for her outside...
It wasn't mine, it was against everyone's,
But it was her choice that I had to respect.
So, I left her there in her friend's house...
Dark street, dark alley, dark-colored gate,
Dark house, dark garden lights, everything
Was dark to my eyesight that very moment...

There was no peaceful moment, while at home.
The rocking chair at the veranda was a refuge...
My ever-faithful friend, kept me company...
There, I rocked myself, slowly, endlessly,
With the hope of my fears disappearing...
Thinking of what somebody once told me:
"There is nothing to fear, but fear itself..."

It had been a long day, a long night as well...
My bed time...but first, I gratified myself....
Took a glimpse inside the kids' room,
Where my eldest granddaughter,
Too tired to go straight to
Their house next door,
Was sound asleep,
Comfortable and warm
Safe from harm,
Here in my house.

And yet....
There are questions still running in my mind:
She has her parents, why do I worry so much?
How much longer can I protect her?
How much longer must I shelter her?
How do I deal with my next equally lovely
Granddaughter, also long-haired, tall,
Also with her own guitar and backpack,
When it is her time to go to a friend's house?
Will I still be around when it is time for the
Three younger girls to visit their friends, too?
Oh, God!  
The ordeal of first times never ends.

(For Ashleigh)


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

(last night)

The day’s raging rains
finally stopped,
humid summer winds,
cooled into soothing breezes.
:::::::::::::::::
a pink, purpled sky
quickly darkened,
calls of crickets,
croaks of frogs
they got lost in the air.
the day’s noise segued
to a soft echo of voices,
.............f a d i n g
..........g r a d u a l l y
::::::::::::::::::::::
'til burning worries
of the mind were calmed,
forgotten for the night.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
lights turned somber
and amplified a spreading,
much awaited
silence.

All found their places,
their own shelter
in the comforting dark.
nature...was in repose.




sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
      May 17, 2023

(a temple complex)

The ruins seemed indomitable than ever,
the concrete walls looked like they'll survive
no matter what...
the tree trunks are gaining more layers
getting taller...wider...older,
aging doesn't seem to bother them
their spirits live on, and rule
generation after generation...
i believe, even the moat that surrounds,
and safeguards the temples,
has its own spirit as well...

my hands touched the concrete walls at Ta Prohm
all felt strong, and unconquerable,
and i thought of my own human walls
i have fought, i still fight...they must not crumble...
i struggle...so my walls wouldn't fall
when a huge steaming net of uncertainty
melts my confidence, and a strong fever enfolds me,
and possesses me...

i saw those monks, unburdened, seemingly bold
walking lightly, sweating, while their soft orange clothes,
moved with the gentle breeze that blew from the moat
cooling whoever,  whatever was about to implode...
i thought, the blending of the heat and cold
could delay, or counter the breaking of any wall...

during that moment of scorching heat,
anybody could've given in...the wind was so cool
i almost jumped into the King's Pool
The vast moat surrounding the temples
kept beckoning...to anyone, to me, to play the fool...


Sally


Copyright January 29, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

i've been wanting
     you've been avoiding,
        my intent,
      I
        M
       P
        O
       S
          S  
       I
       B
       L
       E
       .... tonight...



             Sally
            Copyright  2013
     Rosalia  Rosario A. Bayan

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the name of love

We see light
In every dark

The world seems to be angry...rebelling
Waters rise, and flood the surfaces
The earth opens its mouth and just swallows
Skies are turning darker
Some areas never see light
Thunder gets to be louder,
Lightnings are fiercer,
It's not surprising when they spew fire,
People die fast, some old, some very young
Babies are born by the second
Their futures unknown,
Their safety compromised
Not a pleasant scenario
And yet, we still look up to the Heavens
There is love...there is hope.

When we are in dire straits,
When nothing, or no one can be swayed,
Some light, or somebody
Will pave the way towards a resolution
Or a compromise to start on.
Amidst a tumultuous crowd,
There is space found
There is air to breathe
We pray  
We make peace rule the heart and mind
Ahead...and behind,
Because of love
Every hurdle could be overcome,
Things would be fine!

On a morning after the storm
When the gray sky refuses to become white,
Somehow, a little sun tries to peep with a shine,
To smile... shyly on us.

In every dark
We see light

In the name of love.

from last November's journals



Sally

Copyright June 14, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Out in the backyard,
there's dashing and diving,
swooshing and smashing
tender leaves and twigs are breaking,
crisp, brittle branches are dropping
without much thudding...
on the ground...silently falling...

No more knocking from
the house lizards up the ceilings...
silenced are the cicadas by
these distinctive oral noises,
followed by what seems to be
a screeching sound...
robbing one of precious
sleeping hours...
clearly, they are heard
in every dark corner
of our stilled backyard...
to and fro they fly,
with no signs of presence in the sky
a plane in night flight
at least has light in sight....
in the dark, while soaring
they suddenly go plunging...
aiming on what ever they have laid
their sharp eyes and claws on...
an ugly scene, they create
of torn leaves and broken twigs,
revealed as daylight approaches...

in the meantime of this particular
pitch black late evening,
i am left wondering
why they are so energized...
so noisy,
these nocturnal winged mammals...
extraordinarily active,
so alive...
in the still of this cold, bat-ty night....

    (late night of April 9, 2014)



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Intrusion
~~~~~~~

The scent of pine came strong with the wind that morning
Blowing  above the countless small ripples that seemed to hurry
Traveling...uninterrupted...playing their game,
Unraveling floating tree branches,
Tangled in a mess, with cracked bamboo poles...

Red dragonflies, orange butterflies and green-breasted birds,
Hovered
Over the clear blue water...
Unafraid...
They knew they would be
Unscathed
So long as they kept a safe
Distance above the surface.

Water flowing was a soft, caressing music....
like a lullaby
playing, by the peaceful river,

The river...a vast dance floor, where serenity waltzed
Where leaves had fallen...carried further away
By the playful breeze...
and the nonstop current that ran deep,

~~~~~~~~~~~

Deep as the thoughts of a lone soul, treading the shore
Both hands in  pockets...taking time to walk
...lifting each foot from the crumbling sand
...while singing a song---


"Imagine there's no heaven
...it's easy if you try...
...no hell below us
...above us, only sky
Imagine all the people
...living for today....hmm...."


...kicked a small twisted can
three---four steps, then kicked a used paper cup
seemed to be good at kicking
not concerned about hitting anybody
like it was common territory....


"Imagine there's no countries
it isn't ...hard to do
nothing to **** ....or... die for
and...no religion....too
~~~~~~~~
imagine all the peo...ple
living...life...in...peace...hmm"


Walking...and kicking...there appeared a rhythm
Humming...singing same lines over...and over
Seemed to enjoy the walking
The kicking, the singing
And the wading

"You may say i'm a dreamer
...but i'm not the only one
...hmmm... someday....you'll join....
And the world...will be....as one....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

­The ripples rushed..........
..............down the waterfall
.................cascaded...fast...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­
.....................and before long

....the river....
and the intruder
became...one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~the birds whistled
~~~the leaves rustled
~the wind whispered
They all sweetly sang
Like distant church bells
That softly rang.


Sally

Copyright July 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan


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

Still awake at half past midnight
Thanking God, there are no snore-y sounds tonight.
Up in the sky, above the dark horizon
there's  an ivory circle that peeks
from outside the window.
A perfectly round moon proudly shines on me...
Sends one's mind to a journey,
to a magical world called poetry
Where I am now seated comfortably ..
but why am I back to what keeps me awake at night?
Stealing precious hours of sleep...
etched in my mind...it surely is...
A face that has invaded my whole person
A name that can never be disregarded
or deleted...
Lines, words keep leaping
Out of my brain,
Urging me to record them all
In my head and on paper...
I reach for pen and paper,
wait, wait...I sense a distraction,
A diversion...
In the dark, I take a glimpse
shifting my eyes
towards the sky,
admiring the glow,
concentrating,
shocking myself further,
for, from my lips,
a tune suddenly burst forth:

"I see the moon and
The moon sees me
God bless the moon
And God bless me
Please let the light
That shines on me
Shine on the one I love..."

A kid's song, from long ago,
a fervent prayer it has become,
begging the One above...
a plea, for the one I love....

Not at all a distraction.....
For it has set free my good intention...

(March 16, 2014)

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan


*I was a child last night, just scribbling, drawing moons, toying with words, lines and unfinished poems...
......not very deep thoughts from a playful child, on a playful night, but enjoyed every moment of it......

:::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The plague is actively claiming precious lives
with its deadly droplets...sadly, not all survive
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::
we are holed up in our own homes
eager to feel back, airs of our known norms
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::
not easy to be without human interaction
though distantly, we fulfill human obligations
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::
quara­ntine, or isolation isn't only a solution
it's a path to meditation and self-evaluation
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::
refuge in solitude, is what we seek,
it's when we hear our inner voices speak.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::        
::::::::::::::::
this is one
unprecedented lenten season
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
there's no end yet, for sickness, and death
in fear, we anticipate.....we hold our breath
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::­:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::­:



Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   April 8, 2020

(Candles)

A different kind of wind murmurs
a humming repeatedly echoes
restless birds fly round and round
a ball bounces up, down...back and forth
all of these, amassed in one's awareness
like an itchy patch on the skin,
...nagging...

there're many reasons for sobbing
but few are heard,
cries of discontent, of despair,
of mourning, from waves of violence
man-made, and natural disasters...

babies are born under the sun, 'neath
bridges...growing up, bathing, under the
falling rain, in floodwaters of many seasons,
in rivers without warmth and passion...
they get older...get used to those waters,
becoming dark-skinned...red-skinned,
some remain fair-skinned, with disheveled hair
faces aren't smiling...not all are willing
to share their questions...just their needs...
they need plenty....they seek free time
free knowledge, especially food and shelter,
whatever could be spared...and shared
for them to survive...
the world needs new avenues, new routes
for those reaching out, but could not...

a spark...is where it all starts...
the world needs candles to light
keep them burning bright,
flames, be enforced...empowered
protected from being blown...to resolve
even a bit, of the nagging itch...

one would think...it's kinda impossible
yet the thought is countered right there and then

    with God...nothing is impossible!


Sally

Copyright October 7,  2017
rrab

'/( '|/\'
) '/( / '\'

A gloomy feeling accompanies the rain.
harvest season sometimes reaps none,
the sun is weary, it rushes to descend
humid air wanes as darkness spreads.

sparrows and yellow warblers retreat
how do they stay dry in their nests?
newly-woken bats emerge at sunset
amidst the rain...they try their best.

in the waning light, trees start to play,
their shadows graciously sway,
they dance by the firewall
telling their stories by nightfall.

through a worsening weather
sounds, loud and clear,
the roaring thunder
July's long sunset showers
pour, to cool the dimming atmosphere.

then, darkness claims all the glow.

thunder, lightning, the heavy downpour,
and the warm shelter of our home
are like heaven and hell,
situated side by side.

monsoon season has come without delay
the mischievous puppies dare play
under July's cold pouring rain,
their eyes invite me...but in vain.


sally b

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   July 4, 2021

i am in my own wilderness
in my own territory...where,
my voice should rise above
my mountains and streams
my music should play in every corner
my thoughts should be transparent on the horizon,
everywhere........hidden, or otherwise
i should feel some kind of power,  
as queen of this jungle...

i am in my own kingdom,
i rule...
yet...i know, there's a Presence
something higher than me
patiently  watching me.......waiting,
for me to wake up...open my eyes,
and my mind......be enlightened,
and be able to genuflect...

a never ending want...for renown,
and control...reaches heights,
we always give importance, to
i.....me.....and myself....

i look up to the sky
recognizing One...ever present,
ever patient,
the Omnipotent one...
i bow my head,
i kneel
in humility...


Sally


Copyright February 18, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

(haikus)

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


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

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

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


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 31, 2019

~~~

knowing your joys,
           seeing your smiles,
                   God, i am happiest!

knowing your pain,
                why do i feel them all?
                             why do i hurt the more?

~~~

Sally

   Copyright 2014
                     Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

~~~

knowing your joys,
           seeing your smiles,
                   God, i am happier!

knowing your pain,
                why do i feel them all?
                             why do i hurt the more?

~~~

sally

   Copyright 2014
                     Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

:
:::
:::::
::::::::::
::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::
:::::
:::
:
­
Overfilled dams released
khaki-brown rainwaters, while
slate gray stormy winds brought
down houses and lamp posts,
helpless trees were uprooted,
branches, sliced off their trunks
greens became hues of dark olive-brown.
red roofs floated, fire came in their midst

rain wasn't crystal clear as it used to be
death's color became faded elephant gray
lives were snatched as hands held tight,
emotions died in those brown flood waters

2020 painted my country's canvas
with the gloomiest shades of sepia

still,
my people rise from inundation,
gray lava and tremors,
while they breathe,
they live on,
as before.
:::::::
:::::
:::
:

Sally

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
November 6, 2020

(Love poem # 1)
::::::::::::::::::::::::


I speak of them in hushed tones,
my feelings...my written thoughts....
they ought to resemble, exactly describe
what i've seen, or felt, and stored in my brain...
i draw lines, define the contours of your shadow
but, it's not easy to sketch a landscape
of your whole being.....
most times...words are not enough...

with eyes closed...i run my finger
on a blank sheet of paper,
outlining the shape of your face,
down to your neck, far as i remember...
.......................................i get lost,
distracted by your sweet, gentle imperfections...
i may tell of moles, birthmarks, or wrinkles
big or small scars...but, all these don't matter,
you might sing some songs off key, it's okay
for, i'd surely tremble , on hearing again
the high and low of your voice,
.........................God, there's music!
i hear tunes...as soon as you speak
your heart, must be beating with a lilt...

my muse waves at me, as
bolts of inspiration gracefully ebb and flow,
hand and pen quiver a bit, while writing
giving birth to emotions that, rise....and race,
one after the other....while moon, sun and rain,
provide phrases...to express my soul's delight...

on a high point,
i pirouette,
but, i am  careful,
not to lose
..........balance........
  ....or myself...



Sally

Copyright October 17, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

* * *
* *
*

Faces of friends, of people i met earlier
are  glittering stars on this late evening's
dark blue sky...their smiles are tattooed
in my mind...they're  hunched, going
lower by the days...slowed down by years.
it must be hard and painful...the arching,
the drooping of the neck, the curving spine,
they endure all, 'til each day's end...they rise
each new dawn...do what they still can do,
lest they stagnate in their aging ponds,
diminish to a state, where food, pills, or
forgotten information are forced on them,
......like drugs, injected into the veins

........................
these wee hours bring back the years...
they  have been good...never mind the
hard times...there were, there are good ones
life is a long, wide stream of changing hues,
flowing on and on....my water bears the
colors each new day brings...gray, at times
with sadness and gloom....other days,
blacked by despair...some summers, red,
roseate with glee, or green with life and
hope...blue, when trust is spilling, and
the tranquil sea and sky overwhelm,
with a promise of stability..........white,
when accepting......the unacceptable...
........................
the amber grains and i, are alike
ripened enough to be plucked
be pulled out from an existence...the
signs are known...shown...yet, i wait
for when it is due to happen...and while
waiting, the stalks sway, play and dance  
and enjoy the sun and wind...and i,
while i still can...walk, jump, climb hills
and valleys in this mammoth space
of land and water.............called life
...................
the sounds of my days, i still hear,
i am a lute, a harp, a cello...playing
off-key.....out of tune at times,
my strings are my graying hair,
i still can't stop dying the gray
i still want to highlight the dark,
but, one day, all these will cease...
............
one night, my face will be in one of those
many stars...glittering on a dark blue sky
sending a smile, to my loved ones...
...................
there is no other way, but forward
all are headed....towards an end...


Sally



© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
      June 26, 2018

fill your sight, with bright, fragrant tannenbaums,
smile, and i'll try to clear the lines on your palms...
i'd speak to destiny, save you from fateful roads
allay your fears, as waves of changes affect today's world...
let me streak the Heavens with star-shaped lightnings
create festive skies, over dark, fiery spots persisting.
i would seek all you downtrodden, despondent ones
whoever, wherever you are...wave my hand more than once
to paint your dimming minds, with Christmas dust of gold,
green and red...i'd make you believe, miracles do unfold.
remember your dreams, let me lift your dying hopes,
what's best for you will come, when time is right.....just,

listen close, hear the softened clatter of my little hoof
soon, i'd be landing on your snow-covered roof
then slide down your chimney....
watch me
as i stand carefully....whisking soot
from my red suit...

your doubts and fears must perish
sad and mirthful moments, you must cherish,
weep no more, look up to the sky,
you are all children of Christmas, raise your eyes
regardless of age and color...beliefs, or faiths
some wishes are granted, some have to wait,
i got presents in my sack, other than your desires,
some pleasant tidings, to set your sagging spirit afire...
o, sad, broken and orphaned hearts, do not despair,
keep your faith alive, have patience...trust!
other days can be Christmas,
though it may not be December...........just,

listen close, hear the softened clatter of my boots
watch me, as i rise, whisking soot from my red suit
bearing gifts from the One up there...to last all seasons
just keep in mind....He's the Reason, for the Season...


Sally

Copyright December 16/16
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Life is truly a potpourri
a mix of exciting, scary, inspiring,
painful, joyful, heartbreaking,
disappointing, at times, exhausting
these days, there is no longer fear
i shall not fight it, if i fall right now
for,
i am the bent amongst the young,
the straight and tireless,
i always wonder why,
when a strong wind blows,
i still endure, still am standing...when
turning around requires much effort.

But, I can't hide how this world surrounding me
provides me with such a lift
it opens my half-closed view
yes, there are the dying parts, corners
but what i see mostly are blooms of vibrant yellows,
greens, pinks, peaches, so mellow
lively colors all around me.
even the naked tree, towers over me,
and in its own way
indulges in all the grace and beauty
that render both of us
breathless.

I am, now, in a worn down state,
but I refuse to give way,
for, I see, I feel
i am very much a part
of this pool of energy
effortlessly
continuously,
contagiously
pulsating,
this LIFE that leaves me expecting
for more blue skies.

I am a kite set free,  flying on its own
i am a balloon, soaring, with no strings that hold
i am the old amidst the new
but,
i still am... a breath of life,

So...i struggle to live on.


Sally


Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

I do believe that, people's
breaking moments aren't spectacles,
to be watched like carousels in a carnival,
not free for all(s).....like publc seesaws
anyone rides....sees what comes and goes

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

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


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 8, 2017

*   🌑
      *

Late afternoon sky is a burning
orange...quickly changing
into a dark evening,
a new moon starts peeping...

they have laboured hard, as any day,
work ends not, while there's light,
every sunset, the night drapes them
with cold, comforting shadows,
they claim the night, for themselves,
no masters to order them around,
just them and the fleeing night,
for days seem prolonged, and
nights have become shorter

they beg the sky, and persist,
"please, let the dark stay longer,
why not let the dawn be deferred?
give us space, from each cruel day,
in the dark of night,
let us live our dreams..."

tell them, moon,
whisper to their ears, gentle wind,
whence do they moor their weary souls?
lighten the burdens of their aching lives
give rest to their fatigued brain,
heal their pained arms and feet,

o gentle wind, whisper to their ears,
in your silent ways, lead them, moon,
to a place where freedom reigns
and offers restful slumber....for,

only in the dark of night,
can they live their dreams...


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
September 20, 2020

Last year,
september was dressed with fears
angsty, was october,
november, cold, with a longing to be back
december showed a lively palette of colors,
yet worked with
january, in facing moments of truth...

last sunday started beautiful...but it turned horrible
as explosions took some lives, and injured many...

yesterday, monday was a lovely...cool day,
brimming with apprehension, but
the end of the day was pink-happy, with content
i met some true friends

today, tuesday, is another day to face
tons of things to do and to finish
...but i am looking forward to twilight,
when i recall today's events...

days and nights are a potpourri of yellows
and grays...of accomplishments, and failures
of expectations...fulfilling...and frustrating...
we try to forget...but they are indelible
they persist, they echo back,
.
just like,
my pixie cut brownish hair...the dye,
persist...pushed further down by
undeniable years...manifested by the gray
blending below, with the true color of my hair...

...c'est la vie....

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    January 29, 2019

I never got to meet my father...
He died when I was nine months old,
But his presence, I always felt
While I was growing up,
Even up to this day...

He would often visit me in my dreams,
Told me not to worry or despair,
Took my hand,
Told me I could go with him..
Which I almost did...

A few times, in high school
I felt a light push on my back
When my Home Economics teacher
Almost caught me nodding...I was
Too bored, to focus on her sewing lessons...

I was always saved from falling
Each time I climbed the guava tree...
I feel some kind of force stopping me,
Standing ahead of me,
Whenever I cross the street, even now...

My late aunt said she found me
Looking up and giggling
When at three or five years old,
I played by myself beside
My father's tall and sturdy book case...

I see his face when I go through
His dwindling collection of
Edgar Allan Poe books, including his
Law books, and a few western pocketbooks left,
All, with mottled pages now...

The matrimonial bed he shared
With my late mother is still in use...
His portrait is hung on our wall...
Today, the fifteenth of June, his birthday,
I look through his eyes, and-----

In silence, I greet him,
"Happy birthday, papa,
Happy Father's Day, as well."
In my mind, my father lives,
And my own stories of him therein dwells...

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

(10wx3)

Ocean plays,
pokes the shore,
waves' bubbly edges
bashing,
lapping,

seducing,
making love,
calmly,
violently...
sand and rocks,
both subservient...

ocean...fondles shore with
masochistic caresses,
consummating...eccentric
love affair...

Sally


Copyright February 7, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

You were seated on the loveseat,
yet beside you, i couldn't be
made me feel...i, alone, would face eternity,
between us, lay an immeasurable spread...
your distance, was something hard to invade,
some kind of steel.....unthinkable to pierce
but, i broke  your wall...fractured your fears
rose from my square pillows
defied my rules, my fears
fought your dominant shadows

I pushed you to the edge...i did leave you in rage,
ignored your dagger looks,
to give way to change

it took a while.......i thought long....what if........
......................................................­.......

so...i brought in soft buttered Spanish bread
thought i'd chill your rage, with fresh, iced lemonade
while you drank, i squeezed your hand,
teased you with a glance
a tickle here and there
til you grabbed my hand

ahh...i love your controlled smile...
from challenging moments...you and i rise
i'd say......we're worth every daring effort exerted,

Us two, on the loveseat,
side by side,
sitting comforted.





Sally


Copyright May 1, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

by
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY


The fountains mingle with the river
   And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
   With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
   All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
   Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven
   And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
   If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
   And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
   If thou kiss not me?

(by Percy Bysshe Shelley)

The night is low
I could have drowned  
In nocturnal sounds
But they seem not enough
My cradle doesn’t send me drifting.
.
It is like a bout of vertigo...
The moment I close my eyes,
My head starts whirling
My thoughts start spinning
Up there in the ceiling,
I see your face, smiling,
Teasing,
Pleasing,
Ripping my heart apart
Leaving me alone in the dark.

Cold hands, cold sweat,
Unfocused mind...restless feet,
How could I have allowed this
To happen to me?

Why did I?
This is insane.

They say there is beauty
In all these senseless folly,
But it is one I am unable to see.
It surely *****, to be in love...so madly.

Sally


Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

I have yet to hear
The echo of your voice....
I could sense a lilt in your laughter....
Or maybe in how you  clear your throat...
It won't matter to me
If you sing off-key...
I just want to hear your voice.

I have yet to see
The radiance of your smile,
Your face, your eyes....
Maybe your whole being ...
Could fill up
This emptiness within me.

I have yet to feel
Your presence, your strength...
Your warmth, your true feelings for me.
Would you cry with me when I'm sad?
Hold me when I need to be held?
Would you give me space
When I need to be alone?

And yet,
I feel I know you so well...
Well enough that my worries
Are crushed by my good vibes about you
Maybe...
the secret lies not in you,
But in my mind-----
In my dreams, I see
What my mind tells me....
My inner self confirms it....
In every part of you, I see
..............MAGIC.............
And why is it that I feel...
How is it that I know.......
That for always....
I shall be under your spell.....

Sally


Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

i see your face
---
be
comforted
---
feel
---
    ...my warm embrace...

--------------------
Sally

(For you, Maria...am thinking of you.)




Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

One dry night in June
brought a floating soft tune
of crickets' calling...air was strewn
with their song......the night wind
blew slow and felt silky on skin,
My steps were measured,
a good view, a right shot was needed
for, high up the neighbor's roof,
hang a creamy full moon.

On an empty street...quiet, moon-glowed
there, stood...me and my stilled shadow.
i felt, God put a finger on His lips, the world
was silenced...to hush sounds
to cease movements in the dark mounds
of vacant lots.......to call my attention,
.........to waken my perception.

It was too quiet...not a dog barked.
suddenly, i heard motions in the dark,
a crash...perhaps, a bat made its mark
in my mind, fear sparked
a cold wind swayed the branches
a scary noise, but i shunned my hunches
then fled, as restless leaves rustled 👀 👀
yet, me and my shadow never separated.



Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
February 24, 2024

(Haiku-10w-Haiku)
              
/:/::/:\::/  _  ||||||

Clock tick-tocked...rain poured
.....my mind swayed...a pendulum
........in the wide dim sky ...
~~~

.....thunder kindly hummed low,
.........hand, tapping, tipping
....my bubbly wineglass
~~~

i stood....stomped my feet
...then, entered an open gate...
there.................i met my fate...


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 27, 2018