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Sally A Bayan Mar 2017
Dinner is done
everyone's settled
the evening.....like the moon.....is full...
the weight of the night has itself eased into mine,
my expected moment of slumber...now distraught...
the Heavens are purpled
twilight drapes have fallen,
winds of March...bellow
.........my pillows
..............are hollowed
.......................by my elbows
......as a distant rooster crows........
i lie on my abdomen...legs swing back and forth,
catching inspiration, a word, a daydream...a thought,
i grab a pen falling, i grasp a journal, a book,
...............everything is within reach
but, not...the....long..................stretch
of hours....of a sleepless night...whence
....spiced...spiked...and sugared memories...
..........accompany me...and sail with me
.......as i cruise along this lethargic sea
'neath a silent dark, where aches are loudest
.........domed, by an unworded loneliness,
i am wearied by a flow, that is endless,
.....this minute...imagination is ceaseless
........i reach for my mug....but, it's empty
.........................i hear no liquid seething
this moment,  a dark sea, should be brewing....
this hour, verses must be a river, overflowing,
...enfolding, this cool and starry, starry evening...
.......i am caffeinated....even without coffee....

Sally


Copyright March 23, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
(a nonsense poem, most of you might say
...... a new coffee poem...spun today...)
Ariana Robinson Jun 2016
There's something about stars
Have you ever gone out to a field, laid down a blanket, and just stare at them?
They're just beautiful to look at
They're simply beautiful because they're being themselves, shining at night
afraid to close your eyes at night
you think of the pieces painted on
the back of your eyelids
less like Van Goghs Starry Night
more like Francisco Goya's Saturn's Sun
the walls of your mind holding black paintings
Quinta del Sordo
you are engulfed in them forgetting your roots
roots that have been torn from the earth
from a hand that now wraps around your waist
pulling, pulling, pulling
you awake and realize the hands are from a girl
who paints cherry blossoms in your mind
instantly you feel warmth rush through you
as you press your tear stained cheek
against hers
for my girlfriend who has really bad nightmares
Gold Dec 2015
Starry night, over the
hills, I am mourning my youth,
watching comets fall.
Sydney Ann Jan 2015
Starry Night
Her poems are mind blowing

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