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David Hilburn Jul 20
Avid or lead
Salt in the way
Summation to verify our, vanity ahead...
Succor and hints of whether, a sermon of place...

The course of a new ship?
Set to sail, with suicide as a destination
Sour liberty has shown us, the boding of unity, asking wit...
The voice, of wealth and remorse is an oddity, to intimation?

Spare futures, in the eyes of the land...
Somehow, and with aged forces to avow...
Life here, is a poignant sulk, of what was chaos in hand
Toward the somber horizon, the life of seriousness, now...?

Has a marvel in times way...
Since borrowed timidity is to be a challenge, of ecstasy?
Will we sit for a nightmare, or is that a question to stay
Stronger than a half sighed, half worthy pace of choice...

Is this horse dead, or running for its life?
Such a small price to pay, for the answer of privilege?
Sweeter by decency, decorum is a new wish for strife...
Antiquity shown, or the method to a wager of sincerity's, least?

Aches, chills, glares and pains
Best served by sleep? a host of vicinity to a futures blanket
Seemingly meant and let, with a proper smile, come plane
Where the tow of vice and its vision of home, is a sick lover's face met?
what would you give, for a liberty on the tip of the tows; a tomorrow...?
Sally A Bayan Jul 2019
Under a shady Banyan tree,
i am a unicorn, my lone horn is shining,
front hooves raised, set to gallop, to help
dreams and desires to materialize...
:::::
on another day, i'm a silver-haired erudite,
amidst scrolls and volumes of  tomes,
pondering on THAT, which ruffles my waters,
and defies what i've known, what i believe in;
i'm challenged, i pursue the topic.....i write,
and when pleasance rules.....verses swell...
:::::
however, when my mind is drought-driven,
and my days fail me, i become a banshee,
wailing my ineptitude...my inadequacy,
warning myself...of worst days coming...
there's nary a line, or a verse to celebrate
when exists, this poverty, in poetry......
:::::
i see a poet sailing on either one of two rivers
one always moves on...wind tiptoes on its
surface, its ripples are soldiers marching on...
the other river is snagged...flows off and on;
but, water always finds, creates new paths,
eventually, it flows....at times, it overflows...
::::::
the urge to write is water to the poet,
touching his/her toes...always reminding,
there's plenty to write, out there...in here...
you suddenly hear rain hitting roof like nails
or, the neighbor's car revving up, the smoke
and noise ruin your morning air...it irks you,
giving way to an angry 10-word....or haiku...

in poetry...bad and good days occur, whether
near, far, or under a shady Banyan tree....


Sally

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 4, 2019
( "Under a shady Banyan tree" is a cozy, comfortable place,
   where i write, or just reflect..where inspirations are birthed.)
'tis witch
that whir
the candy
to spur
and these
islands there
through this
flight that
erudite this
squirm in
the hearts
of her
fashion that
her capital
is a
tie onto
luggage rack
spice in orient
Wade Lancaster Sep 2015
I stood apart with aloof dignity
A distant smile
He was upstage with strangers
Erudite I am with many
Downtrodden was never
Aloof for the school of accepted
Erudiate becomes obsolete
Reading a dictionary one will come across words of poetic justice. The word erudiate is obsolete . Its meaning; To instruct, to educate, to teach.

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