I am all entangled...
I have fallen on clusters of thorns...
All stuck... it bleeds everywhere
A vine of thorns wraps around my head...
And it gets more painful as I try to remove it...
Oh!...someone has come...she is trying to help me out...
But it's tough...I am crying...
I remember last...sitting on the Poetry swing...
When Words and Feelings pushed me higher from behind...
Higher! and higher...that even the blue sky could hear my verses
I was so happy...and even the pianos played...
But then someone came
I was scared....they pushed me from the swing
My knees were bleeding and my hand was bruised...
The blue sky had black clouds...it was all dark
They had already killed Words and Feelings...
And were on their way...to crumble me!
When...I felt someone picked me...
They raised me higher...and threw me in the air
And I landed in this cluster of thorns...in the dark
Where...I am all entangled...

Poetry Is...  

...a journey
...to magical places
never seen....never been to...  

...places...we don't wish
to be...  
places...we'd rather be...

...a palette...
paints the world
black...white...
yellow....green...blue...

...white doves fly somewhere
some places...
red covers the atmosphere

...a bucket
of faces...names...moments
we remember
or forget

....a potpourri...
of sweet nothings
curses
promises, broken
unheard conversations

...of bleeding hearts,
feelings reciprocated,  
smiles, escaping from
contented lips

...of lovers, riding
tandem bikes
flying kites
planning
dreaming...
unending

...of grips
loosening
leaving...
still, we breathe
still, we exist...

Poetry is anything...tangible...invisible
Poetry is US....the WORLD....

(10W X 10)


Sally

Copyright October 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan