It just bursts forth,
The violence of emotion.
It completely incapacitates,
Creating a commotion.

Chaos ensues,
It's blinking from dark to light.
Now you're left to wonder,
Who's the enemy, who to fight.

It'll be easier to hide,
To pretend none of it's real.
Because with this violence,
It's just too much to feel.

You'd rather surrender,
Rather have none of this pain.
But insanity is vicious,
And you've got no one to complain.

This violence is cruel,
The emotional battle is crippling.
You're left breathless,
As the effects are just rippling.

In the midst of this disarray,
You plead to be saved.
But they're blind to the violence,
Their indifference is just depraved.

You feel like you've gone mad,
As the chaos is just raging on,
There's no way to explain it,
So.. you just end up staying silent.

To be
a  husband, or a wife,
a friend
a sister, a brother
a mother, a father
an aunt, an uncle
a grandmother, or a grandfather,
one has to be a stronghold...an indestructible wall
amidst storms and droughts, never to fall
be thought of as Fire and Ice:

be the Fire, the steady flow of heat on icy, or wintry nights
the wood crackling, to fuel the flames dying...
a burning spur for the mind, when nothing comes out of the well
fire to boost the wilting spirit..bringing in newborn courage...
the warmth from hands that would hold... heal and  save
to fight for those near  you...even the ones farthest from you

be the Ice that never melts, right in the middle of the fire
to gently freeze anger...hostility...madness
neutralize the fiery air, to balance the atmosphere
to be a cooler head, among violent minds
make glaring eyes and deaf ears, receptive to reason
from red-orange...be an icy blue...

"Are you a shrink?"
i was asked once...
the thought lingered for a while...

Why, maybe...yes!
i've got no license, though
all i have are experiences,
a drop of wisdom...here and there
from times, when i failed
to notice what i was wearing
even the weather prevailing
because i was swimming
floating,
coping
with troubled, murky waters...

As heads of our families
Fire and Ice, we have to be...





Sally

Copyright September 6, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

there was no intention for this
this is silent screaming,
violent dreaming,
sighs that escape the mess of your mouth

I think there is a connection
Between the tides and me
Sometimes high, sometimes low
Sometimes running, sometimes slow,
And most of all
Sometimes violent and sometimes refusing to flow.