Eventual obscenity scribble on a prison wall.
Trouble called in desperation, as pride it came, long before the fall.
The lions roar and reap their toils.
As dogs of war chase cats who spoiled.
Street corners at midnight.
Those cats, they are calling in adamant rapture.
Avoiding the parasites who capture,
and incarcerate.
The words on the street that the world's in a state.
For love and religion.
All that's corrupted.
Collecting amethyst, to purchase angel dust.
Angel dust took the hand of the loser, who feeds supply with demand.
Back on the corner or a heap on a kerb.
Thereafter follows a funeral dirge.
Purged.
(c)LIVVI

how I'm all but
suffocated
by the story of her
wake
& somehow she is always
busy;
I've crawled so far
out of my way

I cannot stand to
sit and listen
to my heartbeat falling faint
its own pulsation makes me dizzy
& veins paint painfully her face


so I can call it quitting
now that everything's turned grey
& all my cannot haves are useless
just like, loving you this *way

Fading Sun...

I was looking at the graying sky.
Trying to chase a fading sun
I peeped above the pointed leaves of the Yucca tree
My eyes were met by little bursts of orange stars
And oblique sunbeams... emitting fading brightness
Through the bushy leaves of the Sampaguita plant.

I was waiting for the moths to appear
Near my lighted candle,
But a gusty wind blew, and made the shell chimes
Sway back and forth...left and right
Round their base and through,
Until all five chimes made pleasant music
With the cool, whirring wind.

I was waiting for the late afternoon sky
To turn to elephant gray
To highlight the yellow glow from the street lamp
So I could test some newly hung Christmas lights
And the capiz lantern outside the french windows
But the rainshowers came all at once
And i found myself wet, from the pouring rain.

I was waiting...and saw a changing sky
The rain, just tip-tapping on the roof
A much cooler air blowing...
Bringing sprays of mist on my face...
Suddenly emerging...the shape of a bat or two,
Flying, crashing, through the dripping red palm tree.

On the horizon, sun was now a dipping balloon
If there's any, i would wait for any kind of moon.

On the garden chair, i sat
And just above me, came a regular stray cat
I heard its paws lightly scratching
The wet surface of the fiberglass roofing.

I still wait...and contemplate on hopes and prayers
I wait...for a lot of dreams to come true
i wait, for this long day to be over
While the night creatures,
In their own tones and tunes
Have started to croon...

Sally


Copyright October 16, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Do not fall in love with an artist;
Her mind is both a framework
And a disarray
Of jumbled sentiments.
And once you embed yourself
Within her horizons,
She’ll fathom you into a masterpiece.
She’ll draw the way your lips form words
With mesmerizing hues
And bind your love
Into a collection of poetic utterances
And she’ll make an inconsequential language
Into an unconventional expression.
She’ll pluck strings
To embody the way your chest
Rises against her ear with each breath;
She’ll make you fall in love with creativity.
And one wrong move,
And you’ll become a masterwork in her array.

You were restless
it’s the nights the world
made you nervous-
where stars have exploded
within you
but now fade out-
it’s these nights which
agitated you the most.

You start running circles
around the moon
chasing light years
trying to get to tomorrow
ahead of schedule
contained and prepared for
the unknown terrifying
you so much.

“Put fairy lights around
your neck, and lets go
outside," I declare,
"and pretend you’re a star
so I can chase you
around the garden,
until you fill yourself
with fearless light
reminding you
where one star burns out
another one shines.”

Your eyes shimmer
in the moonlight
they pay allegiance
to the night.

“See that there,” I point.

"A thousand stars..."

I smile; "A thousand stars...
It’s the promise you
made to the Universe,”

“To never burn out,” you say

I smile, “Yes! To never burn out.”                                

© Sia Jane