#gruff
bone whistle breath
whittling the words i curse with thistle
no more taking life like medicine
flob it all up and rate the streets
license to do
Jun 6, 2025
Jun 6, 2025 at 6:07 PM UTC
Unicorn Moments
It was Maundy Thursday, an afternoon so lazy
the words of the passion could sink hardly
for my eyes were on the beading tray
the unfinished bracelet was now awry
off and on, i kept stringing
the garnet rounds and pearls kept falling
no more tiny brass rings to string in between
i had to think of other ways...something
also had to wash away the gray feeling.
Searched inside my bedroom drawers
and found silver flower spacers!
i gloried at the thought of finishing two bracelets
three, more, maybe even an anklet!
Three, four hours had passed, i was so exhausted
i had already showered
the whole bathroom was spotless,
smelling of ^Pandan leaves^ and flowers,
i was so delighted!
Outside the bathroom door, i stopped
spotted the shiny silver spacers! on the bed, i almost dropped
the silence was too loud, i couldn't stand the spacers' glare,
nothing to say, nothing to offer... just a stare...
"No! no way!
i'm fine, i'm okay!"
was that my voice that gave me away?
moment of truth could never be held at bay...
I held the cable wire to start beading
but body and mind were one...refusing
my fingers were limp...a bit trembling
tired, from too much scrubbing.
My finger traces the head of my unicorn figurine
God knows, i have loved this magical creature ever since
but, i'm not sure i even like these new visitors, these
unicorn moments,
they don't come often,
yet, they're bound to happen.
oh, well....i guess i have to be a bit bolder
accept these changes that come with growing older...
when this happens, i try to joke and laugh,
and then people say......."you're tough!"
i answer them with a smile...and a gruff!
Sally
Copyright April 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 7:02 AM UTC
*I wonder if poetry is as good when your happy
Lord knows it can usually sound quite sappy
Love and birds and clouds galore
Children's laughter and so much more
But for now I will write of my gruff and my grit
The stuff that's all made up of ****
Relationships , casualties and inner daemons
The thick in which remains of my dreamings
Paired with that of a guilty conscience
Can only leave me to sound obnoxious
The fumes to ruminate the life I once had
Of birds and clouds and things that were glad
For now I'm ok with the grit and the gruff
Because for now it is the truest of stuff*
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC