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Memories of this lady never leave my mind.
she wasn't a rider, but acted better than one,
riding high above many hurdles in life...fear
never took her away from her responsibilities...

when the fuse in the main switch gave
way, and dimmed the old house, this lady
braved the dark...armed with a flashlight
and pliers, she replaced the burnt fuse with
a new one and brought light back.....each
time the old-fashioned flat iron overheated,
she easily replaced the glass-like insulator  
inside, so it could right away be used again...

whatever needed repair---garment, tools,
the fence, the house...ripped, or with holes,
she mended and patched...even blind-hemmed
a torn relationship once...yes, she mended
cracks...was always in the midst of broken
vases, gluing pieces back together, so she
may put water and lovely flowers in it...

nothing was impossible for this gentle lady...
she moved mountains for her loved ones,
always persevering and ingenious, life
became less difficult...she painted their
young minds with a mix of hues,
so they may appreciate and be
grateful for rainbows and yellow sunrises,
learn to accept black, gray, unhappy moments,
and be thrilled by fiery orange sunsets....

this lady is indispensable...and irreplaceable,
SHE, and others like her, are called mama,
muter, mom, mum, majka, inay/nanay, mae,
matka, madre, mom....ahh, the list is long...


Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May, 8, 2020
(SHE... was our late mama.)

Brent Kincaid May 2018
When starting out,
We need no steps
Because we cannot walk;
We use our voices
To state our need
Even before we can talk.

Then, walking, a treasure,
Running, equal measure;
Learning to risk falling down.
Standing up, being tall
Taking stock of it all,
And amazedly looking around.

Watching others too;
What they went through
As they do the things they do
Does it’s duty to teach
Everyone they reach,
And we learn to love what’s new.

We sometimes stumble.
It's no good to grumble
We improve with each new step
Some of us in the middle
Never win the gold medal,
But, somehow we all take the trip.

When running days are gone
We keep on moving on.
When age has slowed our step.
At the end, lying down,
Making helpless sounds;
No step needed for the last trip.
Benji James Oct 2017
Sometimes I just wanna give up
Sometimes I wish I wouldn't write another word
And to some, this scene has never needed somebody like me
Some call me over emotional
Others see it as sincerely devotional
And nothing makes sense to me
I should just walk and leave this be
How do I keep conjuring these verses
When I ain't ever going nowhere.
How can I keep releasing this material
When nobody can even see this as visual
Or me as a complete individual
It's so hard to please
But last time I checked I wrote for me

©2017 Written By Benji James
Sally A Bayan Mar 2017

It was a few inches from my rubber shoes,
i almost stepped on it!
if i had, i would forever feel guilty...
i was in shock, and....puzzled
a small yellow creature.....moving forward
when it should have moved upwards...
in its silence, its voice rang in my mind
friends had already left the area, but,
i waited....for clearance...
........hoping, to see it rise again, and.....
......redeem itself...
my expectations seemed doomed, they failed
..........i finally turned to leave
......and...left its fate.... its empowered movers.....

It resembled a new yacht...being wheeled
by a bigger cart, towards the ocean,
for its initial dip..........
:::::::::the wings of this yellow creature
were widely spread....seemed ready to soar high
yet, it didn't move a bit...
it could no longer fly...
for the last time, i looked,
:::::::::::: and saw,
four tiny black ants, persevering,
painstakingly carrying
this dead yellow butterfly...
the trail went on and on, toward
their inconspicuous hill on the ground...

my feelings were indefinable that moment,
it was hard to speak...or decide
......ants?...... or .........butterflies?
::::: not their fault...they both matter! :::::


Copyright March 16, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
CC Sep 2014
I just want you to know

That even if I don't want to

I will fight you

And that even if I want to

I won't die

I just want you to know

Even if I want to

I can't forget you

Even if I try

I just want you to know

Even if I have to

Of course I want to

I want to feel alive

— The End —