To the depths I went
Always brand in fist
To find what made these paths
I thought I freely trod

What illusions waited there
To upturn the ship of tranquillity
What machine within worked
To hide the shadows
What lies came in dreams
To veil the truth

And the soul’s guardian, to protect me
Stayed loyal to false master
When it should to my ambition alone cleave
And my song venerate

An ocean lays at my heart
It is still or stormy
Of its own wild freedom
But now I can sail it
For I am bound
To the friends of true depth
Who understand what I truly am

The illusions in me, games of the mind
Shocked for years, shaken in fear
Of harsh words, of the street, of night
The evidence now piles against it.
I have earned my honours
In the heart of the woods
And was always of bliss
And was always of bliss
Gentleness is I, peace is I
Merriness is I, truthseeker am I.

Where has my love gone
Into ***** storage boxes
perpendicular to the idiot box
hidden behind a soap box
a litter box for the nursing puppies of depravity
a window box of opportunity inviting madness in
twisting little cardboard limbs into origami weapons
screaming paper faces of pain
of loneliness inconsolable loneliness
tormented newsprint balloons of pain
falling effetely from pain spilling mouths
of kerosene and matches in the back room
     Where has my love gone where has my love gone
Into ashes on the hillside of despair
or into some small wooden box of memory
where even my eyes cannot see
boxed in like a gift
with a bow


Oct., 1997

Trapped inside a box.
Everywhere I look,
I see confined emptiness.
My limbs are yearning for a moment's stretch.
Trapped inside a box.
My arms are rendered useless,
as they lay squeezed against my sides.
My neck is straining in it's cramped position.
Trapped inside a box.
I cannot breathe,
my heart pounds against my chest hoping for freedom,
How can one be trapped inside of a small box, when their body is in the midst of a wide open plain?
Anxiety.
It is a box.
A box that cripples rationality ,
trapping you.

i have a box,
and nobody knows.
or maybe the box has me,
but as i've said,
nobody really knows.

it's really just fine;
they can't get in,
inside this box,
this makeshift home,
to which i've become accustomed,
but never comfortable.

it's really just fine;
i can't get out,
but maybe one day,
maybe i'll be okay with that.
after all, no one can get in.

i have a box,
and it's really just fine,
i've decorated the insides
with scribbles and tally marks.
besides, no one really knows,
no one can get inside.

i have a box,
and it's really just fine,
some days i forget it's even there...
well, some minutes,
but that's close enough to days,
so the tally marks aren't as many,
but they're still. there.

i have a box,
and it's really. just. fine.
it's got a little window,
so i can see outside the box,
but when will i get to
think. outside. this box.
no one can see in the window,
so it's really just fine.

no one can see in the window,
no one can get inside,
and no one even knows about it,
so, though I have this box,
it's really. just.  **fine.

We are two animals trapped inside a glass box
Nothing to say or do that isn't lost inside our thoughts
You hope to find an inkling inside the broken chatterbox
But mostly deny what's inside the two time Goldilocks
Is it too cold, too hot, or just right?
Hit me up on the flip side and I'll keep you lukewarm tonight.
Who's eyes light up your insides like a rotten Jack O'lantern?
Who's argyle style lies in all the wrong patterns?
I'm loose like a cannon or a bad set of tie rods.
You can hear the truth speak when you read it in my scrimshaws.
Bear claws
I'll Tear apart your life like the jaws of life.
Tear you apart like a knife like jaws did Richard Dreyfuss
What?
Say what?
This guy writes like Jackson ******* drinks
And paints like Charles Bukowski.
His life pours out in lines like the inside of a chocolate factory.
When asked where is his mind he pointed to his heart,
and said to them:  
"you shouldn't play with knives when you're dancing in the dark."

i gave my heart to him
in the form of a music box
he opened it to hear a soft tune
of my feelings i kept within
he hummed to the song
i made up for him
and danced to the rhythm
of my pulse beating

the entire moment was a loop
which didn't want to cease

it would only be so
if i took my heart back
or if he stopped dancing

Box

Shared visions and promises
Written on yellow papers
Invisibly marked....faded, broken promises
Endearing terms...endearing moments,
Old postcards...old photos and letters
Time-colored...marked souvenirs,
I kept them inside....all stored in a case....
Unexpectedly, the Heavens cried in anger, one day
I rushed, to hold tiny currents at bay...to save
The memories...but the box was no longer there
Those gifts, letters, souvenirs were nowhere
Almost a lifetime...stored in there
But...monsoon rains took them all away...forever
::::::::::::::::::::::::
Got to find myself, a new box....


Sally

Copyright October 15, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan