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Sally A Bayan Jun 2018
No one else, but a poet...can bring colors
to scenes...with verses, in crass or subtle
tones......gather words together in lines,
uncertain in their ebbing and flowing...
the results create surprise in many
hues that could make one cry,
grimace......frown......or smile

readers are led to far, or near
destinations...to the cool, sweet air
and peaceful atmosphere of paradise,  
or, to unlit corners...uncharted waters,
or deep into an abyss...or, a black hole,
an unknown corner, where moribund souls
are biding their time, maybe, they could
now define by themselves, purgatory and hell,
understand those sunken souls who have lost
all...except their arms, and begging eyes...
then, through appropriate words,
a poet paints a laborious path, or
a stairway...so an enlightened reader
may climb back to safe, calm waters...

a poet makes the mind see a human heart,
beating in many rhythms...throbbing,
.......aflame with longing and desire,
bursting from ecstatic, sublime moments,
then, later on,  shift to grayish thoughts
that cut deep....tormenting...crashing,
............gnashing the heart...
a poet paints a soul walking on cloud nine,
later, to dip feet in celebrative pools.

sometimes, a poet would rather not, yet,
an inner force prevails, thereby paints a
drooping soul...dying, in total surrender,
ready to fall..............but, again, with a
barrel of lively-colored words,  a poet
takes this despondent soul to berth,
with soothing verses, bring it to a rebirth...
every human being is worth an effort
..............even those that have fallen
.........................are worth savin' .....

a poet's palette is uniquely
enriched with colorful experiences,
a poet paints life in its truest colors,
..........could be dark...or bright
.....nothing more......nothing less...





Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    January 29, 2017
Sally A Bayan Feb 2016
(a repost from 2013)


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

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

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



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


Sally

Copyright September 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***This is a repost from 2013---edited a bit...it brings such pleasure, when reading what was written some years ago...to know how one felt then...
how writing style had changed...from then, to now....it also
feels good to read thoughts from long ago...***
Sally A Bayan Sep 2013
My mind is teeming with rhymes, but,
Can't even decide on the first lines to write,
I am confused...... I keep on waiting....
Precious moments are taking too long
To come through.
Right now, I am having
A motley of thoughts,
I am feeling sad...
I am feeling blue
I am coping with anxiety
I sure need a remedy.

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

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



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



Sally

   Copyright 2013
    Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan May 2016
Movements and images seen, are a part
They take places...they take forms in the mind
Whether aloud...or done in silence
Like, the crowing of the rooster
Announcing,
The breaking of a new morning
Or, telling of an hour, or two, passing;
A smile, a frown....a falling leaf
Thunder, in the summer, with, or without lightning
After the rains, a rainbow appearing
A whisper of a refreshing breeze, getting cooler
When sun is about to set,
The humming of ACs in offices
At the start of work hours,
Dying...as day's activities, end
Lights fade...streaks slide in, through the blinds
Then, come all sorts and shapes of shadows,
Streetlamps  guide, in the waning light
Heels and soles rush against paved roads
Sounds crescendo....as all hurry, to reach home
While creatures of the night
Heroes...or anti heroes
Move comfortably...in the dark.

All these...feed the muse in me
Writing unknown names that befit a person
Or a situation
My head spills out adjectives that wonderfully,
Sometimes, weirdly, describe my, and others' emotions
Verbs and adverbs, tell of solitary actions and moments,
Or, when i am with company...loved one(s), or otherwise
And while creating...building up metaphors and similes,
More questions arise:

How does it feel, to see your fellow human beings suffer,
How their human rights are being violated?
The little ones, the innocent ones, are now, the ones subjected
To hunger and torture.....To be with, or, without conveniences
Is just a drop of a worry, in a huge barrel of unsolvable problems
When will all these running, and fleeing...seeking refuge, end?
How is it, when you and your loved ones are escaping death?
For life....without freedom...is almost death itself.

There are times,
When, my river is flowing with green and blue waters
So full of varying experiences...the truths co existing with us
Here, in this universe, which, some people say, is a blend of
Paradise...and Hell

Problem is
There also come the times
When i am sailing along the River Lull...and
None of these parts and figures of speech
Exist......


Sally


Copyright May 14, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Mar 2016
PaSsiOnS CoLLiDE
(10w x 8)

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

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

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

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

Heart no longer traverses rough waters
just watches flames burning

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

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

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


Sally


Copyright January 19, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
:::(When two young passionate people are in a relationship....their feelings, their thoughts, their plans, their passions collide...
it's up to both of them, to exert efforts to compromise...to unite... ):::
Sally A Bayan Oct 2020
(Fear)

At different times and places,
all kinds of fear enfold me.
...when they wear me out,
i claim the amazing night sky
with my dilated eyes,
i imagine gobbling a few
stars, like the way i munch
popcorn, peanuts and M&Ms
when i'm scared or worried...
sounds silly, but it's just me, taking
things lightly...enjoying
peanuts, popcorn, or M&Ms,
relaxing, while trying to be safe,
not beaten....or eaten,
by life's threatening adventures
with covid 19 and hurricanes, or,
i could be swooped and snatched
by agents Scully's and Mulder's
uncaptured aliens, who may be
lurking behind me, when i'm
deep in my fears, and
i've run out of
peanuts, popcorn and M&Ms.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::who knows?::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::
­
Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 31, 2020
(an afternoon spent thinking of
apple pie, while anticipating the
landfall of a super typhoon.)
Sally A Bayan Mar 2017
I saw...
a huge, open space, arrayed  with pink and
yellow roses and zinnias...there were benches
under trees that  stretched towards a lagoon,
for those gone weary, from their walks...

I saw...
a family...children were playing
on the green, lush carpet grass,
dressed in their bright-colored clothes
of red and yellow,  and blue jeans...
confidently hopping, and tumbling
wearing expensive rubber shoes...while
having bites of sandwiches, and sips of juices...
from a safe distance, seated on a bench, were
the overseers...the parents...as two nannies
kept close watch over the children.......

I saw...
a group of noisy children come in from the streets
running barefooted, feeling the cool, moist grass...
some refused to remove their rubber slippers,
their clothes were old and tattered...too excited,
they jumped.....lay on the grass without a care,
they shrieked, as they climbed and fell from slides,
obviously enjoying their visit....their shouts, their
laughter seemed contagious, the well-endowed
children, stopped their games and observed...

I saw...
how the parents summoned the nannies,
they gathered the children, and all their stuff
then marched towards a less peopled area,
and there, they let their children play....while
they sat on a nearby bench, pulled long sighs,
one after the other...i wondered...were they
exhausted?  or, pricked by their conscience?
were they sighs of relief.......because their
children were now distanced......."safe,"
......from the less fortunate ones?
:::::::::
whatever happened to  noblesse oblige?
are these just two foreign words,
with obsolete meanings?
::::::::::::::


Sally

Copyright March 9, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Mar 2020
Almost no vehicles on the road
instead, there're long queues of people
filling the sidewalks...more batteries needed
for thermal guns to check temperatures 🤒
before they are allowed to pass through...
perhaps, first times are really unpredictable

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

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

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


Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 18, 2020
Sally A Bayan Jan 2015
A box teases me
But aching limbs say, "Beware!"
Macadamia....GO!

Sally

Copyright 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***it is easy to fall,
       rising from the fall
            is what takes time.***
Sally A Bayan Oct 2013
inevitable, i know...
unintentional most times, when
night time comes during broad daylight...
what i choose to forget
could not be kept at bay.
once in a while, comes visiting,
keeps popping up other times...
traces, droplets, sometimes snatches,
worse times, buckets-full......
bad, sad moments, hover, linger.

every former connection,
i want them ALL SEVERED from me...
distanced from my remaining years...
no more stabbing ache on my chest,
no more pin-pricking pain for me...
no more disturbing thoughts....

........at times such as this........
i struggle to be there,
where i'd rather be,
i need to be there....
for peace is all i ask for,
nothing more......
and peace is what would shower me,
there, where i always long to be...
...seated, contentedly...
with eyes half-closed, half-opened,
as  i take in a view of cool serenity
.........................always.......................
~­~~~~from my refuge by the sea~~~~~
...where i would be totally out of reach...
.......there, where my phantom fears......
....................d i s a p p e a r......................


              ~~~~~        

   (...a gloomy day, a gloomy write...)
              
Sally

     Copyright 2013
        Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Jun 2016
(Monsoon Moments 3)

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

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

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


Sally

Copyright June 14, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
...oh, dear...the rains are making me ponder too much....
Sally A Bayan Jun 2016
Rooster calls............it's time,
Amber fields, blush with ripe grains,
Coffee is brewing...

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


Sally


Copyright June 3, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

<::::::::::::::::::::>
Sally A Bayan Apr 2017
Pity him, or her...pity them
Pity those victims of devastation
And infestations
And molestation
Pity the children...those abandoned babies
But it is not enough...
Please...do something beyond pity.

Pity those in extreme poverty,
Suffering from incapabilities...
Pity those with agonizing hearts
Because of missing body parts
Marred, disfigured, debilitated
Physically,
Emotionally
Psychologically..
But, it is not enough
Please...do something beyond pity.

Pity even those with aching hearts
Devastated, with broken hearts
Who find it difficult to heal
Believe again, a cruel world, so real.

Be guided,in reflecting,
There are others more deserving,
Beware of those who are self-serving
Know who are in most need of caring
Know that, beyond pity, there's more to be done
Much can be done...If we all try to be one.


Sally

Copyright April 6, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

#abandonedbabies #abusedchildren #molestation #devastation #incapabilities #pity #npmimportant
Sally A Bayan Jan 2023
----------------------

Sous le plafond blanc
de notre maison,

je suis la voix
je fixe des règles
je suis reine… pourtant,

Sous un plafond de
ciel bleu clair sans limites,

Je suis
infinitésimal...

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

sally b
©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

(English Version)


Under the white ceiling
of our house,

I am the voice
i set rules
i am queen…yet,

Under a ceiling of
limitless light blue skies,

I am
infinitesimal...
:::::::::::

sally b

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Apr 2022
:::
The sound of a train departing,
halted my world from turning.

I wondered if,
on a spur of the moment, will i be
brave enough? have the courage to
buy a ticket to an unknown destination?
leave without a suitcase? without a plan?
::::::::::::::
would i be ready for some other life?
away from my known zone?
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
w­ould i dare step onto the platform?
and enter the train?
::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::­:
:::::::::
a cacophony of doubts, and a small
voice, were all swallowed by the
loud noise of the train engine,
that faded into the clouds and sky,
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
while wet clothes waited to be hung,
:::::::::::::::::
while *** roast fragrantly simmered,
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
while the platform lingered on in my mind.
::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::
::::::


sally b

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 21, 2022

#just #a #poem #train #platform
Sally A Bayan Nov 2014
(10W)


...........a   h e a l t h y
........p o w e r f u l
i m m e n s e l y
b e a u t i f u l
...f o r m   o f
........h u m a n 
..........c a r b o n
........d  i  o  x  i  d  e.

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

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

-----------------------
***...I am a plant, a tree, an herb, a bush, a ****
the ants on a trail, the Blue Jay, the cicada, the lizard,
growing, roaming...in the green forest, that is your mind
i could be the wind, the rain, anything that comes out with your sigh...***
Sally A Bayan Nov 2015
Poetry Is...  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(10W X 10)


Sally

Copyright October 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Oct 2015
...thought i was on the moon's surface,
tumbling high, low, over its dark craters
but, no...i was floating on the earth's atmosphere,
where winds of all seasons blow without cease
where fogs and mists do exist
where clouds do form and mold
they are, in truth, in their own world...
  
but, it suddenly rains
can't help it... i slowly descend...

...i am transformed  into an umbrella.  
for, Gene Kelly  soon takes me, while singing a cappella
"I'm singing in the rain," to my ear he whispers
... and a bit later, the song,  he would whistle
in his free hand, i become a blooming, pale- rose-y stunner
claiming eyes of passersby, through my magical flower power...

but...all wonderful dreams come to an end
when the aroma of steaming brew permeates the air
right through my nostrils....and i suddenly choose:
cream and sugar.........for my coffee
while reading classic works...or writing sad or crazy poetry
radio plays, "My Funny Valentine"....and i feel
like a singer, who sometimes sings off key
singing of thoughts of who i wanna be
singing of dreams of who i wanna be with
singing, i wish i could dip my feet into different seas
singing, i wish...i wish, i could travel with thee
but now, i'd rather be, there.....in my cozy nook
to slowly scan through the pages of a thick book

my life...a hardbound, glossy-paged book, rimmed with brown and gold
where half of my pages still choose to be unturned, unread, and untold
while half...the rest of me, dog-eared or otherwise, have started to unfold.
  

Sally


Copyright September 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***....in writing this, i chose "I" instead of "You." Sorry...
      This playful write...from another rainy September day...***
Sally A Bayan Jan 2014
"A Tribute To Nat Lipstadt"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


To this great man, we would
like to say:

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

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

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

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

(January 29, 2014  5:02 PM)

~~~~~

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
My way of saying, "Thank you, Nat M. Lipstadt,  for your kindness to everyone, for always being around."
Sally A Bayan Nov 2014
(a repost, from last year)

One  fine sunny day today, and
i am chilling to my bones
when i am raring to be outdoors.
like a freshly painted image
i see through the bay window,
two wine-red butterflies
gracefully diving, while chasing each other
above the lush grass-covered ground,
of our front garden,
passing beyond and below
purple and yellow orchid flowers.
then, upon the stem of a palm leaf
the birds are in a row, taking their time
watching butterflies go by.

Rising from a chair, my knees are
shaking a bit, feeling tied together....
still in my pajamas,
i see my red-painted toes,
wonder why they are all folded so
i bend some more to feel them toes
uh-oh....they're all so froze
another bout of popsicle toes.....


   Sally

       Copyright 2013
  Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***wrote this more than a year ago, on a cold, cold .morning, while with. high fever, cold toes, and humming Michael Frank's Popsicle Toes, one of my favorites among his many songs. It's Autumn once again...time when I wear socks, all day, all night.***
Sally A Bayan Sep 2013
one fine sunny day today, and
i am chilling to my bones
when i am raring to be outdoors.
like a freshly painted image
i see through the bay window,
two wine-red butterflies
gracefully diving, while chasing each other
Above the lush grass-covered ground,
of our front garden,
passing beyond and below
purple and yellow orchid flowers.
then, upon the stem of a palm leaf
the birds are in a row, taking their time
watching butterflies go by.
Rising from a chair, my knees are
shaking a bit, feeling tied together....
Still in my pajamas,
I see my red-painted toes
Wonder why they are all folded so
i bend some more to feel them toes
Uh-oh....they're all so froze
another bout of popsicle toes.....


              Sally

       Copyright 2013
  Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
*....was having high fever the time I wrote this, cold toes and all, I suddenly
thought of one of my favorite songs by Michael Franks, "Popsicle Toes..."
Sally A Bayan Aug 2015
you can stand up for me,
prove my intentions right
when i'm not there...and being stabbed at the back-
when  i am outnumbered, being silenced
stand by me, to prop me from falling
help me rise, when i'm already down-
stand beside me...be with me...hold my elbow
hold my hand, put your arm around me
for more confidence, because i am in doubt-
stand behind me, if you must
to ensure my safety...once in a while
touch my hand from my back, to let me know
you're still there, watching...waiting for me-

would love for you to stand in front of me
to make sure i'm headed the right way
on days i am so lost
hold my hand
to guide me
reassure me
but, not
to
control
me.


Sally


Copyright August 28, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan




::::::::::::::::
Sally A Bayan Nov 2013
D i n n e r    d o n e...

                  W i n e   d o n e...

               D e s s e r t   d o n e...

                       D o n ' t   n e e d   d a r k   c o f f e e......


     Sally

       Copyright 2013
        Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Apr 2021
🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

Lighted candles were placed
on top of empty church pews.
in the absence of churchgoers,
tiny flames flickered on,
to mourn for the dead,
to bring hope back to life,
and to lift to God all pleas,
floating in the atmosphere.

⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

some flames burned still, some were
fervent...a mix of exasperation and
anger were silenced, as God's mercy
and intervention were sought,
⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️
to shut down infection,
to accelerate vaccination
to stop the race between
the two.....but, we cannot,
it's a sad reality, we don't
have what it takes...we don't
have that kind of power.
⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️
there're those who sincerely care,
and some....really don't care.

⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

Today, Sunday, in most churches,
the pews will be empty....again.
.
⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️



sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    April 11, 2021
Sally A Bayan Jun 2019
<<<>>>

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

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

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



Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    June 26, 2019
Sally A Bayan Dec 2014
~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it is just mid afternoon...
weariness now overshadows the sun
that still shines bright upon me...
i feel this gird to my thoughts,
it rules amidst a crowd...
mind is not free to explore.
subject matters are all astray,
concentration is somewhat frayed...

i wait for a few more hours to pass,
when birds
would soon fly back to their nests up the trees,
turning in from their day's adventure,
when shades of burnt orange would fill the sky,
when the sun would hide lower behind the mountains,
when the afternoon air slowly turns
to a cool early evening breeze,
It is time
to be in a corner that awaits me,
where i always want
to be

my mind, my heart, my feet
no longer manacled by then,
would traipse along freely
in a measured, leisurely beat.
can't wait,
~~~~~~~~~~~~
i am there
~~~~~~~~~~~~
n o w
~~~~~~~~~~~~

no words  
only our eyes,
our hands,
our lips
would speak-
unmeasured,
precious hours
moments of
unfettered love,
ours alone
my dearest,
~~~
here,
~~
in
our
haven
by the sea.

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

(October 11, 2013)


Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
***Feet, mind and heartbeat move fastest when meeting your loved one        
     at day's end...*
Sally A Bayan Aug 2014
(10 X 10)  

What a prudent choice, to walk under the pouring rain,
enjoy its cool, refreshing comfort, touching, sliding down one's toes,
walk over the puddles, and spots that are so muddled ...
body, mind, clothes, soaking wet...stained, ingrained with stubborn dirt,
now, washed away...you, courageously surviving acid tests of life,
emerging cleansed, transformed, filled with more sense, wisdom and tolerance,
no more airs, just compassionate, sharing more, this time around...
It's like a new YOU, facing the same world, armed
with rekindled enthusiasm, an enhanced attitude, and fresh, newborn perspectives.

Be brave, be drenched with rain...let it cleanse you.


Sally


Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
*** ...rainy days, rainy thoughts, somber mood,
a mug of hot coffee...hmmm...***
Sally A Bayan Mar 2019
In the garden, a soft-bodied plant thrives,
through sun, wind and rain, it survives,
among  asparagus ferns, it proudly lives,
contrasting its purple triangular leaves
against greens...its lightest of pink blossoms
waltz with the wind, in their fragile freedom,
almost white to blurry eyes
wavering...but, they never hide
raised high above the grass
like ladies proudly poised, with so much class...

a small white butterfly suddenly blends in,
deceivingly perched upon the pinks
but the sound of the camera's clicking
sends it immediately fleeing...
to and fro, the blossoms are swaying
reeling from the wind....wailing
over the sudden flight of their lover
waiting, for a new winged creature
on their purple bodies, to perch, to hover
alas,
....life is short...........never fair...
....and so are some...love affairs....
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sal­ly

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 15, 2019
Sally A Bayan Aug 2021
(Be Relevant)


By a beading table, is where i sit,
a few steps across a desktop corner,
a sky-lighted, cozy space, a vantage
point where i see and hear clearly, as
i'm easily heard and seen...close to
the kitchen, where home scenes and
sounds...and scents of home-made
food, inspire and influence creativity.

here is where i mend torn garments,
repair anything that must be mended.
here, i'm found when my presence,
my sentiments and advice are sought,
when they ask what's for dinner, or,
just wanna hug...reasons for one's
existence, speak loud, just as my
thoughts...speak loud, too.

"is this why i'm here in this world?
why i was created here, and not in
other livable spaces in the universe?"

purposes and roles come to mind,
when hope is nowhere, and thoughts  
of an ungrateful world, an ungrateful
surrounding, drag on...

while the rest are still hushed by
the twilight of dawn, my eyes are
half-closed, but the mind is already
up and about...deaf and blind to
disappointments and frustrations,
oblivious to estrangements,
because,
family...is always a priority.

no arguments, just a choice...to
live through this purpose-driven life,

to be relevant,

to be involved, to be a part of the
whole...as long as time allows.  

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

sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    August 15, 2021
Happy Sunday everyone!
I miss you all.
May happy thoughts prevail on this rainy August morning <3
Sally A Bayan Aug 2017
(remembering)

Was still in the shower
draped with a thick towel
shook head...whisked drops of water
combed dripping short hair with fingers,
then reached for Q-tips,
dried right ear,
another tip...for the left.......suddenly,
the world went silent...utterly...totally!
.......i saw  my eyes froze
...the mirror, was too close...


i had forgotten...i sometimes do,
it's now ten.....and six months,
from that early mornin'

when distant sounds...cruel truths,
pursued me without respite...but, God is always good,
after my storm, came that proverbial calm,
indescribable!...that suddenness....the quietness
of those fireworks bursting...in front of my eyes
they unfolded...and enfolded...
easing out...the gravity of consequences,
slowly......i accepted truths.....and changes...
never skipped thanksgiving......i now know
when, and when not to keep fingers crossed...
those were days of clasped  hands, in prayer,
believing.....some good always comes out
....of a dark, or soundless moment...

i guess, Q-tips will always scare me...the
struggle is alive....seems dead other days
...but, a kind of warm glow eases my fears...
when in total silence, i believe, somehow,
someone will come, and hold my elbow...


Sally

Copyright August 19, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Apr 2015
(fourteen lines)

Every day, we start our usual pace
unaware, how we follow, get ourselves into the race
going fast... becoming faster
sliding up and down, like a roller coaster.
It could be on one fine or not so ordinary day
on an unknown place along the way
we fall....get lost.....we stray
To find our way back, we retrace
But when speed becomes intolerable, or unbearable
we then pack up...we conclude, "today is unmanageable."
We inhale...exhale...settle.........make up our minds,
say, "tomorrow is another day..." we leave the past behind.
We walk anew as the day begins...keep up with the pace
try to do better... to stay within the race...

Sally


Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
***when will we ever slow down?  Any chance we get
let us find some time.....to be silent
to be alone...just thinking..listening....reflecting
lenten season...or any season...**
Sally A Bayan May 2014
Y
O
U
smile  as
the   r a i n s
p r e v a i l, over
the rays of the sun.

T
H
E
o n c e
blue skies,
now paled by
g r a y  clouds
w a r n   us  of  an
impending  g l o o m.

A
N
D
y e t, my
heart leaps,
At the sound
of  r a i n  falling,

F
O
R
I would
soon find you
n e x t to me, the
moment it starts to pour.

T
H
E
f e e l
of rain on
my s k i n, is
that of solace
and. w a r m t h...

I
forget
all about
time and my
worries.......It is
a  pat on my  back,
                      
O
N
E
touch so
reassuring,
as  if, it  were
your   h a n d s
caressing  my  face.

(Published 1997)


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
For Margaux-----I hope you like this humble, old rain poem, iha.
I do love walking in the rain...
Sally A Bayan Aug 2020
_____
/\\\\\\\\


When alone
on rainy evenings,
mirrors surround me

it's when i see, i acknowledge
the colors of my person...the
black, white, the streaks of red,
blue, green and purple in me;
my indecision, my weaknesses,
my temper, my moods;
lamp-lit nights magnify my truths...

mirrors don't lie...in their silence,
they speak in volumes, flashing
scenes, of what could have been,
had i been stubborn...and persisted
on some choices and decisions then...

they remind me of stories behind
my wrinkles, scars, and gray hair...
they stay with me, when i feel, i am
levitating between sky and earth,
when overlapping doubts assail me--

did i take the right path?  
am i where i should be?

will i still be treading other paths?
or will i just deep-fry in this boiling,
restrictive atmosphere?...am i close
to that impending tunnel? or, will it
be a hot, muddy marsh for me?

on rainy evenings,
my thoughts start from puddles,
slowly turning to rivers that keep
me awake 'til early hours of dawn...
_______
/\\\\\\\\
Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 18, 2020
Sally A Bayan Nov 2016
Wind blows...trees quiver
Dry leaves disconnect...fall, and
Fly by the window

Some cling to the glass
Some get blown farther away
Ground is wet, but brown

Fine shower falls on
Coffee with RumChata waits
It's cold at the porch...


Sally


Copyright November 29, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Apr 2016
The evening news goes on
anchorman's hurrying words and frenetic voice trail on
could there be another storm brewing?
is his hysterical voice a sign, a warning?
a spray of the evening shower lightly wets face and arm...
it is not enough, though,
to wash away the uneasiness of the moment,
the evening news goes on...

It doesn't want to end, this long evening,
for one confused soul..mind is wandering
through the night, it is aimlessly exploring
it doesn't want to end, this long evening...

A record plays...she quietly listens
crystal drops from her eyes glisten
she hums along, with Eydie Gorme's
"As a Love To You From Me"
blending, with the cool wind that whirs softly
while looking at a distant moon so creamy
recalling past yearnings that have grown intense
alone in her house, she can not pretend
while...
a record plays...she quietly listens

Repeatedly, she inhales...and exhales
for, breath smells of coffee gone stale...
this sleepless soul, with a mind still straying
will roam further, til sun comes out tomorrow morning,
when her whole being, finally would be surrendering...
but until then, she still would be trying
repeatedly, she inhales...and exhales

The evening news goes on
it doesn't want to end... this long evening
to some tunes, she quietly listens
repeatedly, she inhales...and exhales
the evening news goes on...

(an old, unposted poem)

  
Sally


Copyright September 21, 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***the first sentence of each of the four stanzas, put together,
became the fifth,,or last stanza...***
Sally A Bayan Dec 2019
(The Chaos)



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

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

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

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

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


Sally

Cop­yright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
December 24, 2019
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!!!
Sally A Bayan Feb 2014
All were created,
All exist in this world
For a certain purpose,
Known only to God Almighty...
Even the lowly mushroom
Has a reason  for being.
Here on earth,
We have certain wishes and visions,    
As well as intentions,
To take us to our own successes, farthest from perdition.
But, we also have to fulfill our  missions...
Even in our absence, they will be our arms in extension,
Make sure of a continuation
Like the river that flows endlessly
in the spring, summer, fall through winter...
The water that gives sustenance to life...
It is never easy, but we must make sure of its fruition,
Be up to it,
Be like the sun, which lights every part
Of the universe, extending its brilliance...
Until it is time for the dark
To reign for a few hours...
Be like the moon, as it rules,
Shining, though glumly at times,
Inspiring lovers 'neath its moon glow...
The stars, teasing,
Glittering through the heavens,
Beautifying the night even more.

At this point in our lives...
For a change,
Why don't we help the blind and the old
Cross the street on each long day of their lives...
Listen to those who need to be heard...

We can be a beautiful sunrise
To start the day of those
Who are in the dark...
The warmth bursting forth,
The pulse throbbing,
The heart beating...
That, which gives a sudden spark
To one who is despondent.
Let us be a spring of hope, or a happy feeling,
The lilt....
The reason for a big smile on someone's face,
The reason for a smile to glow
Radiantly...
Let us have that desire to be the reason
So that life and love may grow...

Strain our eyes a bit,
Let them see beyond what lies before us,
Don't we want our hands to be the ones that care?
Make sure our palms are wide open
Let us ask more from our ourselves...
To give more..
To do more than the usual...
For the sake of those who have less...
For those who have nothing...

Be the hot soup
For the hungry and the homeless
The roof over their heads
On a cold or rainy evening...
The warm beds, the blankets
So they can make it
Through their remaining nights
Here on earth...

We would be resplendent if we became
The cream to enhance the taste of coffee...
And why not be
The honey that sweetens a cup of
Freshly squeezed lemon juice?

Through all seasons,
Let us have the good sense
To smother the impulse to fight...
Be the voice that would speak of wisdom
To lead us to a road to freedom,
to set us free
From all sorts of battles...
Let us be inspirations,
The spur, to urge us on,
So all may work hand in hand
Towards one direction...
We can be that heavenly reason,
The light from above,
So that PEACE may predominate
Wherever we may stand,
Whatever we may stand for...

With every single stroke of God's hand,
Let us be that wand, the instrument He uses
To bring magic to all His creations
Here on earth...

Let us be a reason...


(November 24, 2013/10:40 PM)

~~~~~

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Oct 2014
It is showering outside, the air, now colder,
for the first time, i see a tree quiver,
leaves are falling, and blown towards the gutter,
amazing! to have witnessed our own version of fall,
a strong wind blows, shaking off leaves from a tree so tall...
no orange leaves, no fuschia or purple, not even yellow ochre...
this time of the year, they are verdant still, so alive are their colors
mostly yellow-green, some, brown, red, others are like feathers,
falling lightly on the ground, where grass...is always greener.

We are in the last quarter of the year,
soon October ends, comes November...
i am reminded of those cold, cold nights
i had painstakingly survived,
exactly the time i came down with the flu
after roaming a backyard so wet with icy dew...
But this is one season i want to experience anew,
the freezing mornings i always woke up to,
looking forward to oven-toasted corn bagels
and steaming coffee on the table...

I recall that walk through the rumble...
when it rained, i ran and almost stumbled
while searching, imagining a place
where i could chance upon a face...

It mattered not, the anxiety and fear
i felt the longing to be near...
there were only strangers in the view
no hope, not even a trace of a clue...

It was enough to be standing there
in that immeasurable open air,
looking down to the theatre...
i couldn't breathe, the truth was so stark
it choked me...i left before dark...
my enthusiasm was in vain,
like the falling rain...
it flowed, deep...down the drain...

Dream had finally ended...done...and gone...
the day, saved by memories of the late John Lennon..

Before silent nights and silver bells become dominant tunes,
i would like to rise to a similar morning...feel that cold day anew
hear the whispers of the wind, of an Autumn i once knew,
an Autumn past that echoes to this day...haunts me in my solitude...

Sally
Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Jul 2017
\|\||//|\\||////


I see young reeds on the marshy water
......with flexible stalks...softer...smaller
forcefully swayed by the ones taller...older
...squeezed in between
...no choice given
.....but to exist within

there are those that bravely stray
...even before the stiff ones get blown away,
.....out of the reedy confines, they peek
......curiosity and freedom...they seek

i watch these young reeds rise and totter
when the wind moves the shallow water
bravely peeping...finding their light,
...claiming their space....with traces of fright
.................learning to fight
...with every fiber of their might.
...they can't go farther
................than yonder
in restrictions, they'll find some wisdom
eventually, they'll discover  true freedom

one day...their blades would be more defined,
toughened, honed by rain, sun, wind and time,
in their minds, my words would have to rhyme...

but, until then...i got to be taller
......sharper.....tougher
...flexible, but dauntless
i have to sway 360 degrees,
.......when the need arises....


Sally

Copyright July 12, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
.(sorry, i easily fall into the rhyming trap...this is about
   my five granddaughters...changing, growing up so fast...)
Sally A Bayan Oct 2018
<>

There is power over what's in front,
what's behind, cannot be vouched for.

any one, anything that accost me, are
all taken at face value....just as they are,
disregarding love, or dislike,
or, what dwells deep within.

when not shrouded, i am most useful
some say i'm cruel
others think, i'm kindest
but, i am just being honest.
with the least of light, i try my best,
i earn praises...they come back, they need me
sometimes i am bathed with hatred
i end up in the attic...or given away,
just because the truth is unacceptable.

the area across is most times regular,
a man on his table...what hungs on his wall.
occasionally, it becomes spectacular,
countenances, joyful, or sorrowful
come to and fro...all sorts of accolades
a mix of emotions...each day, an array
of lively colors and moods......a parade
of varied appearances feed my view
it's not what i want...it's what i am given
any time of any day...any season.
whatever the reason
someone or something
stands  to face me.

when night is late, and in complete silence
that man by the table....ever writes on paper
and gets them all wet...with his falling tears,
he writes of volcanoes spewing fire, of rain pouring,
speaks to himself, then to me, of betrayal, promises
lost, of broken vows, and shattered expectations.
i am speechless, yet filled with his pain ....he is restive
til the wee hours of the morning....then i see light in
this visage, his face...giving an end to the dark
giving way to another day's noise,
......a facade.....

Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 11, 2018
Sally A Bayan Jan 2015
This morning was cold and a foggy one.
It reminded me of a past colder morning,
When the holiday hustle and bustle had just ended.
I was here....at Windwood Park,
My arms squeezed across my chest.
While briskly I walked, a strong wind blew
And by me, a flock of black birds flew...

I passed along house gardens, with Christmas trees,
With angels and stars on their tops still lighted.
Further on was a row of evergreens,
Upright, unaffected by the cold December winds,
High above the Magnolias and Hollies.
Beside the orange-purplish Birds of Paradise
Stood two smaller, obliquely grown pine trees;
Leaning, but undaunted by the sway of the winds,
No angels, or stars to show....instead, I watched as
The Crows approached, and on the tree tops, they alighted...
And then came another group of three,
And then several more followed suit,
And settled
On the nearby trees,
Blurring the tree line...until
The treetops were darkly shaded....

High above, they perch...on the grass, they search,
On the streets, they cross, pick up food, doing
What birds of the same feathers do---to survive...
A group of beaked, footed, dark crescent creatures
On top of those trees, so green with life,
Against a sky pleasantly clear and blue...
The contrasts, the events I witnessed, lingered with the cold...
A small patch of darkness...emerging,
Widening, prevailing, gaining power,
Can eventually conquer a whole world.

The White Egrets, Herons, the Finch,
The Bluebirds, Junkos and the Parrots
Usually grace Windwood Park with their presence...
Only the Blue Jay was brave enough that cold morning,
While a large number of Crows scattered,
And bravely, skillfully scavenged,
Through the wet, verdant grass,
Through the tall cans of thrash...

This morning, the cold brought back these events...and
I thought of the violence and starvation existing in places worldwide,
The prevailing restlessness, the senseless killings...the children....
No more concern for human lives...and
I thought of Nigeria...
And Pakistan,
And Paris, France,
And those that happened before them,
And those that are about to happen...

Sally

Copyright 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan


...we never know what we may witness when we step out of our
   comfort zones...
*Just a flash of a thought....I have nothing against these persistent birds.
  I watch the urban Crows everyday, as they fearlessly do their scavenging, with or without  people around. They even come to our doorway. They are not afraid...*
Sally A Bayan Oct 2016
Upon a huge, lush garden,
on a cold autumn day...
various leaves fall, in sweet surrender...
some still rise and go with the forceful wind
floating...along with dreams, wishes and prayers
murmured in the air...uttered fervently
...from near......or faraway places
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

papers, leaves, souls, sighs, and whispers
all circulate, dance in the air...blending with nature
like drifters...and seekers, far from their homes
their habitats...their comfort zones,
suspended, in the atmosphere of every season
...yielding...to the will of the wind,
...while the wind obeys...the will of God
they swirl...land, on new destinations
face new dimensions...
friendlier seas...no more running, just waiting,
while winds of change settle down
touching new base, new grass,
hoping, for a peaceful existence,
for some....the end of life's turbulent journey
..........on safe...tranquil grounds...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

somewhere near, or far...huge gardens exist
where leaves fall, where some rise again,
where new beginnngs, new lives are offered...
havens that welcome and accommodate
...refugees...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Sally


Co­pyright August 27, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
#Not all dry  leaves on our lawn  come from our own trees,
      some are blown, from faraway places...
      the wind is a big net, catching molecules of prayers, wishes,
      bits and pieces of floating objects...
      some people see other places as a haven, compared to theirs...
      they try to flee...some succeed, while others keep trying...there
      are those who just want to finally rest, on peaceful grounds...#
Sally A Bayan Aug 2016
(10w x 3)


Eighteen. . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . steps
...soft-cushioned couch
........patiently waits
.........i willingly
............heavily
...............drop


............having wine
.........to unwind
........knots...tangles
...hands stretch.....then angle

backwards.....
..............reach
...................to
......unbutton....
............ undo  
.................clasps...
...............
..........unequa­led...comfort.....
...............from
..............r e l e a s e.......



Sally


Copyright August 23, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Nov 2013
same setting from a year ago...
i am not sure why, but
before the clock strikes twelve midnight,
my eyes would surely open
no matter what.
coffee in bed right now,
with a few cookies to munch....
my bifocals, where are they?
i need them now...i could vaguely see
something crawls on the carpet,
making rounds, circling my bed...
oh, no, it is hopping towards my comforter...
I stretch a leg beneath the pillows
something moves very near my toes.
i withdraw my leg, alarmed,
as it quickly disappears...
...then reappears!  now stationary...
this is starting to annoy me...
I poke it with a pencil,
fear no longer present,
now, with my bifocals found.
but it hops.....and hops...
and hops into hiding
down.....down.....below,
somewhere inside my comforter.
In lieu of me, it is now the  comforted.
it is taking too long to come out.
.....something i realized just now.....
could it be possible, could it remember...
i was kind enough not to use a swatter before....
why, i feel like i am being welcomed!
we are playing hide-and-seek,
a welcome dance it is!
here and now, just like before
from last  autumn,
we are finally reunited,
my cricket friend and i....

  S a l l y
  Copyright  2013
     Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Apr 10
(haiku x 3)

Life is a river
we swim, we drift...a cycle
of rising....falling.

equanimity
is ******* soft riverbed
we reel....sometimes drown,

we give up, they dry
we fight...we breathe....rivers flow!
ripples do follow.

Sally
Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
(Wrote this a long time ago, and while writing, I thought of a fellow poet, our good  friend, Harlon Rivers.)
Sally A Bayan Aug 2017
...........run long...
... seeming to end at one point,
........yet, in truth, they just go on
.............for, currents are ceaseless
.................they find their own paths
......................they symbolize continuity.
...........................r i v e r s .....r u n...l o n g....


(Harlon Rivers....you are your name)


Sally

Copyright August 30, 2017
rrab
...a humble poem for you, Harlon Rivers...
...peace to you always , dear friend...
...your return is most awaited......
Sally A Bayan Mar 2015
(haiku x 3)

Life is a river
we swim, we drift...a cycle
of rising...falling.
  
equanimity
is ******* soft riverbed
we reel....sometimes drown,

we give up, they dry
we fight...we breathe....rivers flow!
ripples do follow.



Sally
Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***while writing these haikus, I thought of a friend, Harlon Rivers.***
Sally A Bayan Jan 2017
(10w x 3)

:::::
people see in you
what you wish them to see
:::::

:::::
but your mirrors don't lie,
truth radiates
its own light...
:::::

:::::
you may show rock salt,
.......i still see sugar granules
:::::
:::::

Sally


Copyright January 31, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan May 2018
Nothing...had enchanted me more,
than that big yellow rose...
bright, stunning at the tip of its tall stem,
soft petals.....yet to fully unfurl,
its inner part...a soothing light shaded swirl...
i sniffed a bit of its fragrance,
and felt its softness...but,
i got pricked by a hidden thorn,
---
just a tiny puncture...yet,
my finger bled so much...
---
i walked on through the garden,
...with my pricked finger inside my mouth,
i was amazed by other flowers, more colorful ones,
but, the yellow, pink, red roses outshone them all...
with care this time, i touched a  big pink,
slowly.........and, again, i didn't see,
another thorn was in the way
---
it was more painful
it bled even more...
---
i stood thinking, while bleeding...
its beauty, its silky feel...its
fragrance that lingers in the mind
would all be difficult to resist,
the pain from the thorns...harder to forget,
but, i'd still want to walk through this vast
garden....live this life...and seek those roses
feel them...be inspired...over and over
---
never mind the spikes!
never mind the pain!
---
love is beautiful like a rose
a rose is beautiful like genuine love,
there are thorns...hindrances and
hurdles, that come with its beauty....yet,
that wonderful feeling of loving,
and being loved, in return,
the wanting, the longing for it,
never dies...the fear of bleeding,
is ignored,
---
for, what is life without love?
and what is love without pain?
---
isn't love lovelier...more hopeful
the next time around?
---
a rose could never be a rose
without its many thorns...
---

Sally

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 11, 2018
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL MOTHERS!!!
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