Two ***** are
A F I R E,
flames within are further fanned,

WRATH
is breaking free from its leash...

like a BLOB,
spreading quickly on all directions

BLOOD and
MERCURY
are both rising...

the once silent voice
now ROARS,
like THUNDER,
gaining
COURAGE,
gaining
STRENGTH,
THREATENING,
the
PIN
is being lifted...

this
BOMB of RAGE

is about to
EXPLODE

any second now...

€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€


Sally

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Copy­right 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

When there's lust in love
It is so strong, it, it...it
could almost **** you.

It, it...it overwhelms you
In the corners of the morning
In the all exhausted evening,
Every moment; all the time.

Lust, and love, together
Sensual, hedonistic pleasure,
Altruistic, all-encompassing,
Of this, we mortals dream.

you told me to        
     m  o  v  e
                   on
and the farther i get        
from your light        
        the worse
i feel, love.

There’s a place up the avenue
Where lovers come to fail
Look at each other with dispute
And hate is all they feel.

When they check in they always say
“I tried so hard, where do I sign my name.”
They always complain about the investment they have made
Does the room, have a place to change?
The credit card’s declined
The Hotel never seems to mind
The key is in the shape of a broken arrow
right to the heart.
The desk clerk smirks
Gets your name exactly right,
Even though you’ve never met
until this night.

The concierge will give you directions to the local graveyards
The bell hop only dances and never says a word
When you give him a tip, he’ll only throw out your words
The elevator only goes down
The only music heard is the sound
Of a solitary heart beating in rhyme
Singing the song
“You will never be mine”.

The hall way corridor goes on forever backwards in time
The lonesome sounds of whales singing
Echoes through the halls, coming through the walls
And from beneath every door.

The rooms offer amenities
The devil dancing in the pain
On the head of a pin
The walls have one function
That’s to close on in.

The ribbon of blood
That seeps through the mirror
Dances in inkblots all the way
To the sink
Which drips tears of
Frustration
Resignation
Isolation
Recriminations.

The bathtub waters
Only run too hot
or
Too cold.

There is a bed of nails
Inviting ruminations
The images of her with him
Him with her
Strobes on the ceiling in endless loops
Of anguish’s fatal tunes.

Room service offers a variety of suicide utensils
The mini-bar contains a row of empty bottles
and a syringe without a needle.

The garbage men are always out side
Garbage cans crashing through the endless night sky
The windows open to brick walls
While couples in bliss dance cheek to cheek
In the bar across the street
Sometimes they look up at you and smile
That smile.

This nightly room has become a weekly
The weekly a monthly
And if you are not careful
Stay too long
Once you check in
The check out will always be closed
At the Hotel Heartbreak
Just down the road.