I always tell myself
I am comfortable in the Birdcage
Where it is safe

Until the howling wind hits my cheek
And I yearn to fly again

"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend XII "


Possession is nine-tenths of the fall to
Captivity of spirit. Many times
You've said those words to these selective ears
And i've heard nothing but your voice. Now, through
Some grating shift of cells, cause unknown, a
Newly perceived response enlightens some
Hitherto unlit portion of the dim
Pre-conscious realm. Which from here on casts a
Shadow interwoven with the many
Other shadows in the vast and blood warm
Ocean called the mind. And i see the harm
You speak of threatening, purely, clearly.
To hold is to close and occupy a sheaving
Of brain, which does empty its use for living.

My facade was so strong you called me. friend.
I guess it was just meant to be a bitter end.
But when your whole movie is made of sunshine and rainbows.
It has to be violent for the sake of show.
I spent so long in hiding like in bitter captivity.
Pretending not to be lost in your pull like gravity.
You made me smiley and all warm inside
Lost on your letters trying to hide.
But then i told you the truth trying to set myself free.
Then you backed off and brached out like a tree.
Your roots came up and we both went down.
All i said was i love you but you didnt see it my way.
The only thing you could think of was how to get rid of me now that you know im...gay.

Life is a prison;
And we all have death sentences.

They are Demons In my mind
They drag me every where they want
Im tired & confused
Searching for a way to lose

Im staring to the blue sky
To the shiny yellow sun
Life Is beautiful I know
But not beautiful for all I suppose
People think Im happy
Even when there is a hell In my mind
I feel deep sorrow In my throat
But still I smile

There is something dead in me
I know there is no replace
Im caltivated by the life
this is no sweetest nightmare than the life.
They say you are young & beautiful
Try to change your world
But they donť know for me
Everything is already finished

Living, laughing & timid smiles
Is the all the thing I could  have done
Living like a happy man
Dying every day Inside
Demons , Demons every where
Still whispering in my head

Nasty, nasty , nasty life
You are caltivated by your life.

Isn't it astonishing,
   The amount of hate
That humans have for
        Each other?

If only that same effort
    Was used to threaten
The crooked hand holding
          Us captive.

I walk the path alone. Though I am never without company. For the wind and trees sing lullabies; lulling me into a sleepwalk-stupor.
The rain caresses my face like a kind lover. Making everything seem...
But the way is dark and I regret to realise that I cannot see beyond the skeletal frames of those dark boughs. Oh how they whistle mercies unto me, my sweetly singing entourage of thornéd ghouls.
Come, oh stifling Death. You whose omnipresence disturbs my skin and forces it to crawl deeper into the shadows.
Leave me, oh pain. You who I alone have elected my captor. Do not bind me with your mordant roots. Roots nourishing my doubt and uncertainty, indeed utter disbelief in that supposed truth - salvation.
"God save me, guide my steps." I cry aloud this pathetic plea, and then wind answers me; that immaterial half, so quiet - whispers:
"There is no God where you are".

In one's lifetime, comes a moment or two,
when a sunny day's sky of powder-blue
turns to an utterly gloomy black night
not at all a beautiful twilight
:::just a dark firmament...no homing birds in sight

When in a flurry,
it comes naturally,
to want to sit...on the ground,
on the floor...just somewhere down
with both palms cupping jaws
resting on knees are angled elbows
discontent and stagnation
nag one's  imagination
heartbeats
............are drumbeats
glances are fleeting
unfocused:::::escaping
such are vain attempts, to dismiss
avoided thoughts and scenes:::to release
::::and decide...all must eventually cease
yet.........it's never easy to find peace
can't just forget sounds of voices...and sweet laughter
jokes and conversations that came, before and after...
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
they are tattooed in the mind
::::::::: they are ::::::::::
::: i n d e l i b l e ::::::::::
:::: e s p e c i a l l y ::::
:::on:::moments:::when:::
:::we struggle the most:::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::only:::­to:::realize::::::
::::::::::::::::::[[[]]]::::::::::::::::
:::::­:::[[ memories ]]::::::::::
::::are:::a::::[[metal cage]]
::::::::::::: and we :::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::: are :::::::::::::::::
:::::::[[captured birds]]:::::::
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
it usually takes long:::::::::::
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::to be freed:::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::;;;;
::::::from being:::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::held:::::::::­::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::[[ c a p t i v e ]]:::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
(November 2015)


Sally

Copyright January 13, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan