#differentworlds
You learned silence
in cloisters,
discipline like cold stone,
the art of surviving
inside walls.
I learned questions
in my grandfather’s study,
books like open doors,
freedom as a teacher
and curiosity as prayer.
We met in the middle,
you with your scars,
me with my flames —
neither better,
just born of different schools.
Now we try
to teach each other
new lessons.
—Vazago
Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 12:27 PM UTC
East...and west, are we?
north, and south?.....maybe...
we were nurtured with love,
our eyes and our minds opened
to different isms that helped shape our
values...we were brought up, bearing our
folks' customs, traditions. principles...
we have different faiths...some practice...some
don't...some, don't even subscribe, yet, survive.
we have dry and monsoon season...in
other parts, pleasant weather, cold winds,
and in some parts, snow.....turning to ice
we are a mix of white skin, seeking for a tan,
and brown-skin, hiding from the sun;
one's night, is the other's day,
there are surfers among us, playing with the waves,
there at the cusp...gambling...daring fate...
there are those who hide from silent freezing winters,
finding warmth and comfort in long hot summers...
countless points of comparison,
yet, we've something beautiful in common,
a connection of feelings, of words...our poetry,
flowing like blood, through our veins...endlessly
feeding, fueling our hearts and minds, with classy,
themes....sometimes bold, mushy, or....sassy...
no set skeds...we do it even through adversity...
we write......
we tell about our escape from life's banalities,
mindscapes, landscapes immersed in frivolities
yet, we await the marvels of each morning we wake,
remembering gratitude, in every breath we take...
years have passed us by,
still, plays this soft music that mollifies
and inspires......heard only by you and i
prodding us, through hours, of day or night
while you exist in your own part of the world,
as i, in my hot, humid cosmos, long for cold.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May, 19, 2019
Jan 12, 2025
Jan 12, 2025 at 5:49 AM UTC
To be haunted
By voices of people
I have known,
But will never meet;
To be drawn
Into worlds
I have explored,
But will never see;
The sheer emotion of reading,
Magnifies and withers across each page;
With ink tearing into our hearts,
Leaving us yearning at each epilogue...
Dec 11, 2021
Dec 11, 2021 at 4:04 PM UTC
Distance can't be travelled
Voices can't be heard
Too far from each other
Different kinds of worlds, rather
Fantasy and Reality
That's how different you are from me
That's why we can never be connected
Hearts can never be intertwined
Souls can never be one
Because we're from different kinds of worlds.
May 30, 2021
May 30, 2021 at 8:09 PM UTC
East...and west, are we?
north, and south?.....maybe...
we were nurtured with love,
our eyes and our minds opened
to different isms that helped shape our
values...we were brought up, bearing our
folks' customs, traditions and principles...
we have different faiths...some practice...some
don't...some, don't even subscribe, yet, survive.
we have dry and monsoon season...in
other parts, pleasant weather, cold winds,
and in some parts, snow.....turning to ice
we are a mix of white skin, seeking for a tan,
and brown-skin, hiding from the sun;
one's night, is the other's day,
there are surfers among us, playing with the waves,
there at the cusp...gambling...daring fate...
there are those who hide from silent freezing winters,
finding warmth and comfort in long hot summers...
countless points of comparison,
yet, we've something beautiful in common,
a connection of feelings, of words...our poetry,
flowing like blood, through our veins...endlessly
feeding, fueling our hearts and minds, with classy,
themes....sometimes bold, mushy, or....sassy...
no set skeds...we do it even through adversity...
we write......
we tell about our escape from life's banalities,
mindscapes, landscapes immersed in frivolities
yet, we await the marvels of each morning we wake,
remembering gratitude, in every breath we take...
years have passed us by,
still, plays this soft music that mollifies
and inspires......heard only by you and i
prodding us, through hours, of day or night
while you exist in your own part of the world,
as i, in my hot, humid cosmos, long for cold.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May, 19, 2019
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 8:54 AM UTC
Maybe in a different world,
I'm a tree,
Big,
Not only physically,
I am very important to nature and its inhabitants,
I clean the air for those around me.
Maybe in a different world,
I am a boy,
Wild,
Eager,
Loves to embrace my ego,
Races to see how many girls' days i can brighten up,
I'll try my hardest to understand her perspective,
She'll be my queen.
Maybe in a different world,
I am a diamond,
One who can be mistaken for a shiny rock,
My value under priced,
My potential overlooked.
Maybe in a different world,
I am the ocean,
With many rivers working together to reach a common goal,
To flow in tranquility until they reach me,
When they feel like giving up,
I look up to the skies and pray,
The rain make them full again.
Maybe in a different world,
I can achieve anything i put my mind to,
I work towards it,
Practice and succeed,
For life isn't about the destinations,
Its about the journeys.
Jonesy 2016 ©
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 8:57 PM UTC