I love red roses
There is another part
Where, I love lions
As if you can separate apart.

I love red colour,
There is another part
Where, I love sky coloured
As if you can separate apart.

I love reading books
There is another part,
Where, I love to be in hooks,
As if you can separate apart

That's all me,
No right, you have to judge me,
Cause,only I know the better me
Better, never try to near me.

Got the New Job Blues
find the politics absurd
but like the paycheck

My mind knows that I am free but
My heart understands that it is
Held in his sweet hands, like he holds
Air, oblivious but always
Present, around him like a sheet.
If  he but knew what love there is
About him, he'd never worry
Of worth, nor can its source deplete.
To him, I am a passing thought;
To me, he is the restless night
Of flashing emotions flooding
Through me, of anguish and delight.
I cannot explain this senseless
Tug that binds me so snug to him.
However, its knot cannot be
Undone; the heart is not the brain.

There's nothing but just one day left.
By then I have to be over him.
I know that it makes no sense,
But nothing ever makes sense.
Maybe what I'm really longing for is someone who will do that.
Someone to make sense with,
Other than my best friend.
How do you get over someone in one day,
When you've had a senseless crush on them for a year?
There's not much attracting me to them,
There's just thoughts of my imagination and he's there to fill the place.
I can't keep doing this,
But I just can't stop.
Something not even a slap around the face could solve.
I may as well dive into ice cold water,
Knowing I have no towel.
That's what it's like falling for him.
However I managed to get myself into such a state,
That it's not even him I like anymore.
And I tried so hard to prevent this,
Yet I'm sure it's still happened.
I have one more day to convince myself it's not worth it.
That I already know.
I just can't control my thoughts,
And lately it's been making me feel so crazy on top of everything else.
I'm not sure what to do now,
But breathe,
Just breathe and hope for something.
So many things going on in my head.
Just forget these feelings.
What was never here needs to leave my mind.
I feel so stupid and I feel mental.
Is there anybody who knows the answer?
I've been searching and I can't find it anywhere.

I am a mash-up of mishaps, strange facts and movie quotes.
A cacophony of cool dancing tin hats,
and concerned-looking men,
watching in white lab coats.

I am the hungry seagull searching for salmon,
dodging waves and annoyingly landing on ferry boats.
Dropping gifts to the sunbathers by the  shore,
they never seem to appreciate.
Until they do, I will just drop more.

I am the spinning cactus made of rock.
I am the wealthy, rich millionaire
who sleeps in cheap hotels
and wears odd socks.

You are the last bit of toothpaste
you squeeze out of the tube
before throwing it away.
I haven't brushed my teeth all week.
What more can I say?

I am the broken toy tossed under the bed.
I am the breaking glass, the slamming door,
the words misquoted, misused,
and more than often misread.

I am the one who bites off
more than they can chew.
I am the one who tries and
tries and
tries
to
forget you,
but can never quite seem to.

I am the one who stays up late
sometimes,
to ponder, wonder,
and write these confused, riddled rhymes.

Today is Sunday,
and yet it's already tomorrow.
In my mind, there is no time:
But there is sorrow,
and bursts of joy
and glimpses of hope
and snippets of happiness
and times where I cope,
but most of the time?
Nope.

But today is alright.

This morning was cold and a foggy one.
It reminded me of a past colder morning,
When the holiday hustle and bustle had just ended.
I was here....at Windwood Park,
My arms squeezed across my chest.
While briskly I walked, a strong wind blew
And by me, a flock of black birds flew...

I passed along house gardens, with Christmas trees,
With angels and stars on their tops still lighted.
Further on was a row of evergreens,
Upright, unaffected by the cold December winds,
High above the Magnolias and Hollies.
Beside the orange-purplish Birds of Paradise
Stood two smaller, obliquely grown pine trees;
Leaning, but undaunted by the sway of the winds,
No angels, or stars to show....instead, I watched as
The Crows approached, and on the tree tops, they alighted...
And then came another group of three,
And then several more followed suit,
And settled
On the nearby trees,
Blurring the tree line...until
The treetops were darkly shaded....

High above, they perch...on the grass, they search,
On the streets, they cross, pick up food, doing
What birds of the same feathers do---to survive...
A group of beaked, footed, dark crescent creatures
On top of those trees, so green with life,
Against a sky pleasantly clear and blue...
The contrasts, the events I witnessed, lingered with the cold...
A small patch of darkness...emerging,
Widening, prevailing, gaining power,
Can eventually conquer a whole world.

The White Egrets, Herons, the Finch,
The Bluebirds, Junkos and the Parrots
Usually grace Windwood Park with their presence...
Only the Blue Jay was brave enough that cold morning,
While a large number of Crows scattered,
And bravely, skillfully scavenged,
Through the wet, verdant grass,
Through the tall cans of thrash...

This morning, the cold brought back these events...and
I thought of the violence and starvation existing in places worldwide,
The prevailing restlessness, the senseless killings...the children....
No more concern for human lives...and
I thought of Nigeria...
And Pakistan,
And Paris, France,
And those that happened before them,
And those that are about to happen...

Sally

Copyright 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan


...we never know what we may witness when we step out of our
   comfort zones...