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 Apr 2014 Shay-za-di
amrutha
The tears are yours,
the pain is mine
The wounds are yours,
the blood which runs out?
Mine.
The fears are yours,
the trials are mine
The problem is yours,
Just who the hell am I?
 Apr 2014 Shay-za-di
Ady
You're not my “something real”,
not my “wish upon a star”.
Even as you lay here with me
my mind complains and my heart
disdains.
You are not my drug nor the White Rabbit
from such tales.
Even now, as your lips touch mine
the breathing of my brains holds static.
You warm hands exploring every inch of
my **** body, however, those tell a different
tale.
Every hot spot on my flesh you slightly caress
makes my nerves erratic.
Beaconing to me with luscious promises
the only way you can stir my breath.
See?
Just a hobby, only a pastime.
All we seek based on carnal sin.
You are not my treasure, nor am I yours-
and yet we choose to linger entangled within
these sheets.
We seek the comfort of compassionate hands,
of accepting lips, God we are insane.
All we come to find between us is but a
way to **** the void of Time in our shriveled
little hearts.
You're only nice when it suits you
when you think I have something to give

You're only nice when it suits you
I guess you don't care if I live

You're only nice when it suits you
we've come to the end of the road

You're only nice when it suits you
I guess you can be nice alone
morning sun is brightly shining, but,
in the dark, is where i am,
protesting,
there is a war going on.
changes are seen, felt,
happening to me and around me.
they are unacceptable this very moment
i am bound by something that rebels in my innermost.
this questions my faith in myself,
my capabilities.
am i languishing?
deteriorating?
is this just a respite?
could i have been blinded?
is something being painted before my very eyes
that fails to penetrate this weary mind of mine?

why is it that, at the same time,

A passive countenance,
a vacuum...accosts me...
there's this sting,
a biting feeling,
it goes on pricking,
puncturing my chest,
because it has been
realized and accepted:
i haven't strayed that far from
I, Me, Myself,
so obvious, in this written piece...

no thoughts
except those of inadequacy...
dwell in my mind
they dry up my throat
as I leaf through trivial pages,
going through each phase of life,
where I find myself surrounded
by things I've taken for granted
people I've thought of as uncelebrated...
thoughts are shallow,
the mind is narrow...

compunction floats in the air
merges with the winds of sensitivity
that blows against my reeling body.
then I come across a well of words
that further stir my already troubled mind
thoughts that pierce my eyes, and
my heart to the core,
shattering my complacency
into pieces,
my numbed awareness,
is now more awakened...

this vessel doesn't offer much,
it is wanting, asking
for more compassion
it is just half-filled...
ineptitude is admitted
and acknowledged...
a cloak is thrown over my head,
a last-ditch effort,
to shroud my now enlightened mind...

but, these awakenings make me quiver...

i need another kind of mantle,
light and transparent,
to hide myself from shame
to shield my poor threadbare soul...


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
It seems this poem is the first part of my posted poem, REASONS....
I feel they are very much connected, although it was unintended...
 Apr 2014 Shay-za-di
Liam
like a fish out of water
walking backwards upstream
grand illusion of compliance
buying nothing sight unseen

respecting their essence
detached from their path
connected in spirit
repelled by all wrath

norms without ethics
morality sans love
passion ever searching
a need to rise above

heart sinking hatred
mind numbing neglect
mountain moving greed
rarely circumspect

not infrequently i ponder
how my being was unfurled
wondering deeply in my soul
if i belong to another world
 Apr 2014 Shay-za-di
Raphael Uzor
Take one breath at a time
Adorn each piece with a chime
Let hearts beat in sync
As feathers in air must sink!

Take one step at a time
Bless a beggar with a dime
For so do hearts entwine
Like broken glasses of wine!

Take one day at a time
Grace each line with a rhyme
For so do poems ferment
When pens and papers cement!*


© Raphael Uzor
Cherish every moment of life,
As it could be your last!
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