I’ve read a thousand books
And walked a thousand halls
I’ve gazed into a thousand mirrors
And I have scorned them all
I’ve smiled a thousand times
In a thousand different ways
I’ve learned a thousand things
On a thousand different days
A thousand different rivers
A thousand different rests
A thousand different lives i've lived
And a thousand different deaths
Throughout my thousand journeys
And my thousand lonely tears
Nothing can compete
With my single, solitary fear
The right eye I avoid blinkin',
There is a new irritant therein,
But harmless compared to the killer,
The killer roamin' here an' there,
Thousands of faces she always had,
And she dons one or the other,
Kills by the name of the lover.
In the dark night I was prevented from my satisfying slumber,
as I was troubled by my rooms dark corner.
Though my eyes were soon to be sealed,
may my dreamcatcher cure me from this dreadful darkness to be revealed.
Thankfully, the dreamcatcher protected me through this night,
as I was navigated to an existence so bright.
I was floating above the sea as I saw the lights
of thousand beaconing lighthouses from these ongoing heights.
Keenly guided from all insecurities,
I now clearly see the seas of opportunities.
I've walked a thousand miles or two.
Done worn the souls out of my shoes.
You can look in my eyes and say,
"All those are times, I've been through
Just take a look at my shoes."
I've walked the steps that you have made
I've learned from all my past mistakes
And I can promise you
You're not the only one who's worn out their shoes.
I had to move on from the past, at last
I couldn’t stay, I’d lose my mind.
You turned the knife in my heart, & left a scar
I cried, a thousand times
I have felt, or known,
In silence, i mourn,
Within my breath...
No words come upfront
Just thoughts, preponderant...
I'd feel the freezing cold of an empty space
Feel the absence...clearly imagine a lost face
No smiles, spanning from cheek to cheek
Eyes, seek answers...
suddenly, I'm there by the shallow water of the creek
While some nearby creatures quietly chirp...and squeak
While I......... I could not even speak...
Is realizing...and accepting
At the right time, they turn brown, the weeds...and reeds,
But, under the water...waiting, growing...are their seeds
Brown ferns...are almost detached from a mossy concrete wall
With a strong current, and wind, they'd be carried...ready to fall
The driftwood lying by the shore...is always wet, but petrified
Brown fallen leaves, on the green grass...no more hold...crisp and dried,
The dead bark of a tree...in pieces...are crumbling...
Merging with the wet earth...in a process of fertilizing
Deep down under ....a fresh spark of life is starting.
All these, remind,
Life and death stand side by side,
That in the midst of death-
Something new is birthed...
When faced with death,
there is always someone's living breath
And, as long as the heart wills to beat
Then, life.....will still exist.
Hundreds, or a thousand times,
We all have died
In the high and low of life's tides,
Those who have left
Those who have survived..are still around
We think of those who are next to leave,
Waiting for their chests' final heave
---And then, we think of ourselves---
Worry not of our own time
Make each of our remaining days
Be golden, beaming, and bright
With good deeds, and straight pathways
The earth is a moving circle
It makes a round.......as it spins
We try to live outwards....and then, within
Any way we live it...life is an endless cycle.
Copyright March 23, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
There is a thousand way
They can show their love,
Getting up before you,
Every dish dripping
In your favorite flavor.
There is a thousand way
They will let you know
You are not alone
27 missed calls,
Breathing properly only
When they see you at the front porch
There is a thousand way
To let you know,
How you are the family
And the family they want
There is a thousand way to know,
You have made a place in his heart,
A message at dawn,
Asking if you are alright,
He will go to any length
To protect you.
But you tend,
Not to see
Love in these little thing,
You want grand gestures
Poems written about
The knots in your hair
And some may
Do exactly that
But that does not mean
Their love is superior
To the love that is only spoken
Between two hearts
There is a thousand way to show love,
You only have to notice,
And not be blinded by your expectations
To feel them all.
I live not the life of a thousand men, but rather the life of myself.
To compare me to even one is to underestimate me eternally.
And to underestimate that which has never before existed is an error of pre-judgement that will result in you existing forever unfulfilled.
The bayed back feeling that once was you
Boiling down the ethereal , in differences
I cross the twi's lights knowing I will be
here . . . for a thousand years
This is astound , no reason is clear
Where the smell of grass comes to pass
You remember a kiss that won't disappear
. . . . . . beyond a thousand years
Tuesday . . . dragging the clouds away
Hearing the voices that were never there
Telling me to hang my ethereals out to dry
It may take a thousand years
Cold hearted orb dressed in white satin
embrace the shadows you cast across
Tell all the Knights lacking they cannot win
Not in a thousand years