I went from a lover to a liar in a heartbeat;
the flip of a switch as soon as I heard I could get what I'd been craving.

The jolt of electricity through your bloodstream, the feeling of being alive with your senses on fire, the ability to seem untouchable: superhero like even...

Almost nothing compares in that moment, but in the afterglow, when your cape begins to lose its wind and your heart starts to slow, nothing feels worse than pondering it's destined finale.

Discovering your conscience, all the while knowing that no matter how much you love someone, the poison always comes first.

It's a terrible reality, the ability to choose.

And I always choose wrong, down the path of the chemical adventure, knowing that at the end, I always inevitably fall off the cliff.

But it's an obsession: being on top of the world, and no matter how much time passes, or how far I think I've come, she always wins.

It's the slow onset, the clarity, the peaks where everything seems far better than it actually is, but now the dream is over.

I need to let it go or it will consume me; living in a false reality, locked in to my need for perfection.

She used to calm me and make me godlike, but now I've fallen from my pedestal and upon looking up, I see she turns me into the monster I've never wanted to be...

Hiding, in shame, from the soul I love the most. I wish I could tell her, divulge all of my secrets, but the fear of the disappointment on her face is too much for me to bare.

Because I know she could help me,
if I would just tell her the truth.

Tired of being called names and listening to complaints from your partner because you snore at night?

But more than that, it is important to keep a check on your snoring as an excess of it can be an indicator of many diseases, one of them being sleep apnea, says Dr Kaushal Sheth, ENT surgeon, "People develop sleep apnea when their airway collapses partially or completely during sleep due to various medical conditions. This causes the oxygen levels in the blood to decrease and can be potentially life threatening when it becomes obstructive sleep apnea."

Elaborating on it further, Dr Jayashree Todkar, bariatric surgeon and obesity consultant says "Snoring is an indication of obstacles in a person's breathing. When excessive fat accumulates around the stomach, the lungs do not get ample space to expand when we inhale oxygen; this in turn leads to obstacles in the process of inhalation-exhalation."

However, there are many myths surrounding snoring which is a very common problem. To sleep better one must get rid of the myths that surround snoring and only accept the facts, says Dr Viranchi Oza, BDS as he gives us a lowdown of some stories around snoring:

Myth: Everybody snores, therefore it's normal.

Fact: Snoring is not a normal condition. Labelling it as 'normal' diminishes the seriousness of the condition. Snoring is not just about annoying your partner, it is a sign that the body is struggling to breathe properly during the night. Snoring on a frequent or regular basis has been associated with hypertension and can also be an indication of sleep apnea (pauses in breathing). Sleep apnea sufferers have been reported to have diminished gray cells in their brains, most likely due to the oxygen deprivation of untreated sleep apnea. If left untreated, sleep apnea increases the risk of cardiovascular disease over time. In addition, insufficient sleep affects growth hormone secretion that is linked to obesity. As the amount of hormone secretion decreases, the chance of weight gain increases.

Myth: Snoring only affects the health of the snorer.

Fact: Snoring doesn't just negatively affect the health of the person snoring, but also the health of the person lying next to them in bed. A typical snorer usually produces a noise that averages around 60 decibels (about the level of vacuum cleaner), but with some people this can reach 80 or even 90 decibels (about the level of an average factory). Sleeping with a partner who snores during the night has been shown to increase the blood pressure in the other person, which may be dangerous for their health in the long term. Snoring also causes the partner to have fragmented sleep and lose up to one hour of sleep

every night.

Myth: Snoring comes from the nose, so if I unclog my nose, my snoring will stop.

Fact: Having a stuffy nose can definitely aggravate snoring and sleep apnea, but in it's not the cause. A recent study showed that undergoing nasal surgery for breathing problems cured sleep apnea in only 10% of patients. Snoring vibrations typically come from the soft palate, which is aggravated by having a small jaw and the tongue falling back. It's a complicated relationship between the nose, the soft palate and the tongue.

Myth: I know I don't snore, or have apnea. I am fine.

Fact: Don't ignore your wife when she tells you that your snoring doesn't let her sleep. When a partner snores it is very difficult for the spouse to sleep. There are people who snore excessively and suffer from sleep apnea, but feel absolutely normal. However, snoring increases their risk of getting a heart attack and stroke. The only definitive way to prove that you don't have sleep apnea is by taking a sleep test. Screening questionnaires like the GASP or the Epworth have shown high reliability in identifying patient risk for sleep apnea.

Myth: If I lose weight, I'll cure myself of sleep apnea.

Fact: Sometimes. It's definitely worth trying, but in general, it's very difficult to lose weight if you have sleep apnea. This is because poor sleep aggravates weight gain by increasing your appetite. Once you're sleeping better, it'll be easier to lose weight. This is the one ingredient with many dietary and weight loss programs that's missing or not stressed at all. It's not enough just to tell people to sleep more.

Myth: Health problems such as obesity, diabetes, hypertension and depression have no relation to the amount and quality of a person's sleep.

Fact: More and more scientific studies are showing a correlation between poor quality sleep and insufficient sleep with a variety of diseases. Blood pressure is variable during the sleep cycle, however, interrupted sleep negatively affects the normal variability. Recent studies have shown that nearly 80% cases of hypertension, 60% cases of strokes and 50% cases of heart failures are actually cases of undiagnosed sleep apnea. Research indicates that insufficient sleep impairs the body's ability to use insulin, which can lead to the onset of diabetes. Fragmented sleep can cause a lowered metabolism and increased levels of the hormone Cortisol which results in an increased appetite and a decrease in one's ability to burn calories.

Myth: Daytime sleepiness means a person is not getting enough sleep.

Fact: Do you feel very sleepy even during the day despite the fact that you had a long night of proper sleep? Excessive daytime sleepiness can occur even after a person gets enough sleep. Such sleepiness can be a sign of an underlying medical condition or sleep disorder such as narcolepsy or sleep apnea. Please seek professional medical advice to correctly diagnose the cause of this symptom.

Myth: Getting just one hour less sleep per night than needed will not have any effect on your daytime functioning.

Fact: This lack of sleep may not make you noticeably sleepy during the day. But even if you've got slightly less sleep, it can affect your ability to think properly and respond quickly. It can compromise your cardiovascular health and energy balance as well as the ability to fight infections, particularly if the pattern continues. Lack of sleep has also been associated with road accidents (up to 60% of road accidents involve lack of sleep) and air crashes (Air India Mangalore plane crash in 2010 was due to lack of sleep). Sleeping for less than six hours a night is equivalent to legal levels of alcohol intoxication.

Myth: Sleep apnea occurs only in older, overweight men with big necks.

Fact: Although the stereotypical description does fit people in the extreme end of the spectrum, we now know that even young, thin women that don't snore can have significant obstructive sleep apnea. Sleep apnea begins with jaw structure narrowing and later involves obesity. It's estimated that 90% of women with this condition are not diagnosed. Untreated, it can cause or aggravate weight gain, depression, anxiety, diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, heart attack and stroke.

Myth: Snoring can't be treated.

Fact: Have you given up on your snoring thinking that it cannot be treated? There are many different options for treating snoring.

Some treatment options are rather drastic, possibly requiring surgery or prescription drugs, but prior to exploring such options it would be wise to first seek out alternative treatments. You must visit a sleep specialist to get the right diagnosis.

Myth: Extra sleep at night can cure you of problems with excessive daytime fatigue.

Fact: Not only is the quantity of sleep important but also the quality of sleep. Some people sleep eight-nine hours a night but don't feel well rested as the quality of their sleep is poor. A number of sleep disorders and other medical conditions affect the quality of sleep. Sleeping more won't alleviate the daytime sleepiness these disorders or conditions cause. However, many of these disorders or conditions can be treated effectively with changes in behaviour or with medical therapies.

Myth: Insomnia is characterised only by difficulty in falling asleep.

Fact: There are four symptoms usually associated with insomnia:

- Difficulty falling asleep

- Waking up too early and not being able to get back to sleep

- Frequent awakenings

- Waking up feeling tired and not so fresh

Insomnia can also be a symptom of a sleep disorder or other medical, psychological or psychiatric problems. Sometimes, insomnia can really be a case of undiagnosed sleep apnea.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses

"Please stop, please, would you?
Can't you see that my son is in pain?"
Cried the mother aloud, with resounding hopes of seeing the doctor
Again.

The doctor a year older than thirty two, says-
"He Is a patient without any patience, its true,
Your son is baffled and a catatonic mass..."
The mother cried aloud-" please doctor, o doctor help us....!"

He sits down at the desk, checks his pulse,
His cheek, his bones, his eyes at last,
"Catatonic, catatonic" he murmurs twice,
Says to the mother about "being encephalitic, which is as cold as ice..."

The mother nods to almost everything he says,
Takes the prescription, gives his pay,
Goes out to the booth, to fill up the form,
Thinks to herself, "my son would be really well someday."

"With newer meds, He would talk like how grown ups do,
He would write stories about his aunt Mary too,
She is still alive, loves him very much,
Perhaps he would be just fine, by the next lunch at home?
Perhaps no one would be no longer be alone anymore?
Perhaps at home? With everyone together?
Perhaps with everyone back at home, helter skelter?"

Months go by, the doctor, Mr Sacks,
Discovered a new medic, which carried the potency to release the germ,
He treated it on his patient Leonard Lowe,
Within an hour, he became a man, as creative as god can be.

Months and months added up to a year,
Leonard has now somehow, recovered himself into a well bred man,
But, as awakenings come, god keeps all other plans, at bay..

God is not chemistry, that can be studied at hand.

With Side effects, and more, he now became paranoid,
His head moved and shivered, his eyes now continued to toy,
He received a awakening from an awful dream,
He now received paranoia from his newer medicines.

Lowe was really well for a summer, he tasted ice creams,
Lowe was really well for a summer, he drew a painting,
A painting of what simple chemistry can do,
A painting that all doctors can never be true.

His mother was still crying aloud with resounding hopes to see the doctor again,
She was screaming, helplessly " please stop, would you?
Don't you see that my son is in pain?"

Since the doctor said-" that awakenings are once and can never be said"
The doctor went to the other chamber,
That evening, "to read a story again,
Which he perhaps, never read."

Chemistry, it can never be said.
Chemistry, is but an awful arrangement of certain probabilities in sets.

The mother was still screaming-"don't you see that my son is in pain?"
For, Leonard Lowe has now become catatonic again.

Tight embraces in dimly lit buses,
night skies oppressive in the dormant freedom
of brightly glowing stars,
and through it all my mind shatters,
crystal upon stark tile floors;
go ahead, try to sweep it up.

We all know you'll find pieces
hidden in corners forevermore.
Reserve me, conserve me,
trap me in conversations that are real
in their own plasticky way.  
Convention, protection,
radioactive never-ending hunger,
all is fearless until the time for courage arrives,
and then you are still,
trapped inside your own tobacco stained mouth,
empty and aching with only a
theoretical formula for satisfaction.

Satiate my needs (as I covet yours)
and enter my mind
through gaps in my body,
my hands are dry, my fingertips numb,
the taste of them salty upon the cracks in my lips.
Retract, retrospect,
retro clothing and high heeled leather boots,
walk the night through a fog of shame
and search out a gleam of hope,
but wait-
that's just light pollution.

The ground is dry but the sky is crying,
where in space lies the disconnect?
I'm spinning, I'm screaming,
I'm waiting for an end
but every day begins anew,
the sky grotesque in its airiness
and empty fullness
and the moon waiting only long enough
to greet the sun,
bowing its silvery crowned head.

You were born on a cusp.
friends on the other side
couldn't decide,
Scorpio or Libra.
You yourself,
as constant as the tides.

A tenth sign ram
was blessed to cross
your lovely path
and the ram learned:

Short curly hair
pinned back reveal
asiatic eyes.
As you pass by and by
Time and time hearts race

Chicken salad sandwich,
its moist mayonnaise
is never as delicious
without a pickle.

Grubhub.
No, Scrubhub.
Too content to leave the room.
Yummy Rummy,
food in our tummy.
forever.

Broth, cheese and wine.
Mushrooms and time.
If ever I tasted love,
it was shared with me,
in a recipe.

Sound opinion in scores.
Royal, like the Tenenbaums.
Bill Murray fantastic.
Pink Moon over and over and over.
Divide that by nine.

And now I know,
almost as well as you,
how good Goodfellas is,
even after the tenth time.

Early morning awakenings or
snooze again and again and again.
Paralyzed in a dream or
awoken with a scream,
we tried a routine:

Once parts of a team,
a memory faster than it seemed.
Ran for miles.

A boy and girl in the hall,
amongst the boys and girls
in the hall.
Digital regulars in ecstasy.
Wake next to you a daydreamer.

So, when life gets hard,
and you're feeling down,
don't be so glum,
ignore your doubts,
don't feel left out,
I'll be there for you,
when you need me to.

Every morning without you,
Is another morning,
I am arisen within a fire.

Completely dismembered.
Absolutely discombobulated.
And ended in fear and worry.

Yet whether you are here or not,
I jolt awake,
Writhing.

Another meaningless day in hell.

the wind greets me gently
and i embrace its touch

my heart sings as I ride
into the unknown path

catch me like a fish
everlasting supplier of light rays-
warming the soul like a cup of hot tea on a sleepy sunday afternoon
- melancholic -

swaying the universe
the mermaids sing in the mornings
mesmerizing the sailors
and i am the singer and the mesmerized

i am free. i am free from the ropes. free from the chains of a dreary existence. i can feel it i can feel it on the tip of my eyelashes with the swells of tears pouring out.
- renewal - - relief -

i am a good girl. listener of tall tales and fantasies. spur of the moment night crawler caller.
i spin a beautiful web of fantastical clouds. from ropes to cakes.
pick your poison.

i am a bad girl. keeper of secrets. silent truths bundled under creative happiness and weakly disguised love affairs.
- blink and it’s over -

i’ll lie in your lap and watch you write-
spinning fantastical tales of glorious awakenings. new beginnings.-
pull my hair up to attention. i am here. i am wanted. want want grab me.
want//need. clever disguises. silent truths. wispy truths.
childhood pencil marks. pig tail sneakers.

truth drops into heads.
eyes drop onto the floor.
teeth sink into lips.
heart drops into stomach.
limbs fold over limbs and the being falls slowly upon itself.
when i wasn’t mine.
she wanted me more than she could stand. stabbed me with a ******* pencil. made my heart drop into my ******* stomach.

My heart is pumping
So fast you can visually see my chest thumping
The only sound I hear is a heart beat
Lately I haven't been able to eat
Uncontrollable shaking
Rude awakenings
Uncomfortable thoughts
Distraughts
Staying up late caused by PTSD
I am trying to get better, can’t you see?
I try to fight the battles that go off in my head
Late at night, before I go to bed
I try to keep moving forward and never look back
Wait, I feel like I’m having a heart attack

there was no poem neath my pillow

no poem on my tongue, none from eye envisionaries, no dew gift from my grassy emissaries, parting residue of an unknowable finger touch

nothing stirring, the mother muses mushing their shushing noises,
only breathy quietude, an airy surround sound tissue,
the cadence of intermingled hearts, the mother and the child

two awakenings, one instantaneous, the other restless unhurried slow, but within an impatience to intersect,
the overlap is love stars crossing,
impatience weaponized to make
momma aware her companions refreshed status,
a needy for love’s suckling,
embrace of fresh baked smiles from hot heartedly hearth furnaces

thus a-born a new poem, a welcomed well coming, in words,
the alliance of alliterated words from the interlacing of the mother’s chest heaving and the sniffling joy of a five year old boy reimagining the dreams that crossed from mother to son, and back again, requiring composition and joint authorship of them

the only and only true authentic authorship,
mother and child, their owned unique
duality of singularity

Life sneaks through parallel bars
awaiting awakenings; not of an embodiment
but of souls connecting you and me, strengthening bonds;
family and friends, it peeps through the windows
to admire common happenings yet uncommon;
butterflies skirting the waterfalls, undistinguished colors of
a rainbow, the silhouette of mountains shining in night foam,
refraining to die every season and  just die for once,
to understand the unfathomable beauty and magnificent
doings of nature, to build little by little of every moment
crossing by and not reserve chairs to sit paralyzed,
to hold and freeze dramatic awakenings of
summer of 1969.

no great awakenings has happened today,
but something small has shifted and my heart
is just a little more free and light than it was yesterday

each day sometimes can feel weighted with life's responsibilities,
and feels like more of a burden than a gift

a subtle shift happens in me when I trust in a God I don't understand to guide me, to where I do not know, but
I know I'm not walking it alone

Sylvie, I am alone here
doing nothing, except
thinking about you,
in a meditative trance.

It's a beautiful feeling Sylvie
strange, I don't miss you,even!
I imagine you as an awakening  flower
of changing colors and petals
You are in a whirl of realization.

Then a lone tree you are,
near a vast,waveless  lake
what an intriguing  koan,
to churn my inner sea.

You're nowa drifting white cloud
all through the kaleidoscopic shifts
I forget to think,what would I be
in relation with your whims,spectacular


Beyond apparitions, I search for  meaning
that  eludes, as it is fathomless

I hear the song of the lonely star, so near
and realize,"I am the light of the burning star"

Sylvie, I can't remember
neither you nor me exactly
or the distant star that sings
a song in the tunes of light years


You were from the forest, Sylvie
I used to be the mountain wind
that once caressed the forest trees.
Sylvie, we are one; the imagination
of the waves of light, beyond time.

Lost on white streets
Hanging in between buildings and the eerie
Afternoon air that holds a promise of the gathering dark

The young eyes darting over the place
A growing mind that goes bump in the night
On unsteady legs watching meaning colour beside the lines

Then a flash of lightning sets off a schism
A slash, division down to the deep middle
Pilot light blinking as it drifts of into neural space

Left to grow stunted in isolation
Animal protocol takes over
Unusual growth detected, quarantine affected parts

Discontinuing memory lines 0 to 13
Incoming sensory override
Reboot soul system

Initiating memory dump
Re-awakening neural connections
Re-routing discontinued channels

Connecting...

Connecting...

Systems online
Current memory line: 29
Review memory dump?

Y/N

/

The Picture Window

The vista view never changes but daily.
The naked eye, registers the same distances,
resting objects unmoved, modest alterations
by wind and water are noted, but for intent,
for purpose, the watercolor one would paint
be invariably unvarying as a Swiss Alp.

The  subtle nuanced worldview, where the sky
stretches from ceiling to a foot above ground, as
I lay prone neath the coverlet, vista always subtly differing,
from its prior reincarnation, self-reflection demands to know.

Alive & Awake? Yes.
Breathing steady? Yes.
Toes? Still can wiggly to & fro.

My soul?

Presumably ok, as I write, because I write, the
picture window into to my insight, though oft blurry,
yet intact, making discernible the changes in light,
temperature  and heart rate, as the body/soul contraption modulates, just as the gradient of daylight shifts lighter and higher, with a rising sun bringing more clarity to our interactive encounters with our environments..

The picture window internalized, much the same,as
the vista, subtle modest changes, colorations variegated,
are registered. Today is mostly cloudy overcast, and shall remain so for the foreseeable future, which be about two days hence. Not unsurprisingly, methinks, the future tends to be cloudy.

Beyond that peripheral, no one can say, our macular envisioning only gets weaker,time is a tough taskmaster
and uncertainty is it’s own principle.

But I can say, forecast from well under the comforter,
that more than less, where less is more, this picture window,
ex and in, shall remain, unchanged for the remainder of my years that fortune shall provide, and will & would grant me awakenings to the ex-sight and in-sight of a sculpted landscape, of negative entropy,  where disorder minimal.

My musings end here, unless you still wish, come the morrow,
what the marrow the day reveals, what the window will spill,
new and exciting, subtly unchanged, and always different.

Caution: The injection of caffeine may dramatically alter
the windows perspective, as the exogenous always trumps the
endogenous.

5:50 AM

P.S. Making coffee clarifies: If the vista in +/- unchanging,
then, all my personal, own horizons are immortal as well.

...Awakenings
By
Jude Kyrie*

The summer heat
seared the sand like fire.
She walked by me
stopping at my Cabana.

May I she asked?
So young lithe and beautiful.
Of course I say
but the breaking waves
and sea breeze whisper
Danger Beware Beware Beware.

I have not yet tasted
the pleasures of a woman.
Can this be the time?
The time for me.

My racing heart whispers
Quietly softly be still.
The salty sea breezes speak
Let it be it’s your time
Let it be.

Later I writhed under her.
Between heaven and the sand.
My hand holding hers
As she led me
through the door of manhood.

My boyhood left me
draining into her
as I cried out
in its irrecoverable loss.
The waves rolled relentlessly
breaking on the shore.
Undulating to her rhythm

I feel her soft gentle gifts
aching inside my body
is this it is this it?
My soul asks

Then the roar
of the crashing waves
on the rocky shore.
The tender moment
As close as two humans can be.

Emotions older than time itself.
I hold her as a lover
She rises from me almost shyly
and says Thank you

A seabird cries above
Don’t leave , Don’t Leave.
But her footprints
are washing away
in the foam.

Just her indelible
memory remains
Imprinted forever
like a tattoo
on my young heart.

perhaps if you have time,
take a moment to read the
predecessor poem in the notes below first,
in order to better understand this one


<>

the love poetry curfew so lately announced
misshapen, growing without respite, by hate extensions distended,
poet's sanity uncomprehending, for yet another! sabbath desecration,
debating internally, how long should this cessation be extended,
for the pockmarking of earth's face with fresh bloodshed,
continues unashamedly, swiftly apace, these unholy days of dread,
all haggard his mind, hazard his eyes, harden his heart
no muse could sway

but shocking himself,
poet's mirror image stares and dares
with a finger-pointing,
his own specter's absurd challenge of

"and yet, now more than ever "

when children are killed like bowling pins,
there can be no satisfaction in revenge
cannot expiate evil deeds with avenge
measure for measure add-on sins,

and yet,

poet thinks quietly, repeatedly, self-surprisingly,

and yet,
love poetry, now more than ever

asking confusedly, almost ashamedly, out loudly, yet secretly,
how can this be, for there will be again, more painful awakenings,
is it the end of days, of greeting sunrise, with a love for love poetry?
with madness come and confusion everywhere rampant,
'tis a doubtful thought, the carnage having wrought
an insoluble dissolution and can love poetry be any solution?

in poet's Adirondack safe place where life tributes were
birthed, bred and trials borne, a right writ place for unmasking,
a private soul in equal parts of joy and shame,
love and pain, loss and gain,
here the weighing scales bore equal measures
of old bereft, and life uplifting visions of,
what will come, what will be, the unforeseen,
the hopeful yet of

"and yet"

a dotted line of whitecaps  beckons the poet to tread upon,
the glassine bay's waters that lay before him, go, walk on water,
a path to point where and whence the quaking waves
have gathered, calmly begging, Oh poet!
provide  assurance, explanation, comprehension,
querying him as if all sanity, has flightly, unsightly, fled
from the home shores of human sailors, gently asking poet,

"your fellow walking earth-beasts have all sensibility killed,
these times so human terrible, we waters, cannot understand"

poet's rebellious soul all so confused, asking and answering the
waters in his head, the waters that address his eyes,
seeking wisdom words from a place where logic
has been whittled and willed away,

and yet,

love poetry, now more than ever

now is the time when a love poem beyond merely necessary,
poet's eyes cast downward in shame, his thinking, hesitant and wary,
time for prayer, not madness distraction of a love poetry commentary

the waters dissatisfied at his confusion,
part as if by Moses's staff, majesticly powerful rise up,
confronting poet with the sweetest tasking
as if they were the downtrodden and the hurting, asking...

"we storm, drown and take, for such is nature's angry periodic way,
something beyond our control no matter what we say,
to another's dictate and momentum, we must bow and obey,
but you human, have choice, and we have none -
choose love poetry and let it comfort like no other"

and the poet sighed and wrote

this poem

this poem of love,
realized and conjectured,
with inserted verses of

"and yet,"

for though the poet possessed no well of well words
more than these few saddened and impoverished,
wearied, hard scrabbled ones

and yet,

gasping and grasping a potent notion, a portent of what if,
of a world with no love poetry,
a planet that could not ever-overcome hate, dooming itself,
for love poetry and all its cousins and associates,
the only method to confiscate
these grill blackened marking silent barbell weights
so let this be ,
this is a love poem,
and now,
this is the time,
to let

"and yet"

vindicate...


<>
6:20am
Saturday July 16, 2016
and yet

moments of clarity
come and go

spiritual awakenings are
always happening now

Mnemonic...

Over my mug of steaming coffee,
...i see cookies and a fruit...sliced,
to freshen my breath after my coffee break....

one glance...

one unexpected glance, took me back... to
when i decided to do something for myself,
to be happy.....and to be somebody....but,
finally....i fought the desire, to be defiant...
those awakenings, and newfound feelings,
still haunt my evenings...the hurting, somewhat
changed me, and my beliefs.......i realized that,

at some point in one's life, a chance moment
unfolds on a landing...clear to the eyes...on a mission,
to change attitudes...to erase wrong impressions,
triggered by unpleasant experiences....i have also
discovered....at the right time, somebody comes,
......like an angel with hidden wings...to soften
our hardened minds....to melt our frozen hearts,
ease our tensed opinions...offer us a healing balm.
sometimes, a place, or a face, becomes a kind of paper
that can't be crumpled, or destroyed...so hard to forget.
anyone...anything, that strikes the heart hard,
easily comes back, with the slightest reminder,
catches you..........unprepared....

this fruit on the table, in silence, it just sits there,
...unaware of its being mnemonic...doesn't matter,
if it's fresh, rotten, or candied...a plum, apple or pear
....................would prompt me, to remember,
over my mug of steaming coffee...


Sally


Copyright July 27, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

In the pale of your shadows
In the absence of your light
reckless words left unspoken
lead fingertips to undress
under the crescent moon
and the awakenings of night.

In memory of your passing
In the kudos of your heart
abstinence of time left to falter
the clutches of desire
and the tears of regret
that sees two loves apart.

In the starlight of your beauty
In the creativity of your life
In another world
and the sliding of doors to here
I can but imagine possibility
without the ruination of reality
and the fear of unbridled strife.

Wispy blossoms
against the cerulean sky
voracious for sunlight
even rooted in mud
bodacious buds
surrounded by concrete
will not be subdued
they remain
perfectly poised
for ritual splendor.

.
The sensual caress
          twilight mist impearled flesh
          alighting a feral desire
          within blossoming spring petals

The newness of uncovered skin
          a sweetness on unsated lips ,
          the taste of passion and salty *******;

          with hastened breath
          sighs do brush with warm ****** breeze  
                               across my naked chest

          wild feathers sweeten
          tender touch
                                ... emanating
          sensual awakenings

Arousing buried desires

          unable to hold back
          constant cravings

          the inevitable currents
          pummeling shameless floodgates
with arising untamed springtides swell

Fleshly enslaved yen --  
energy sprouts tingling sensations

          nascent buds blossoming deeply
          flourishing exploding flames  
          bursting flush
                                       ... deliciously white hot

In an unstoppable carnal moment
          passion betides
          like the surging sea ;


Rising and falling crescendos
          unleashed waves crashing ,
          drowning in the rhythmic undertow

          interlaced bodies heaving adrift in the moment 
          like entangled seaweeds
                                            in a riptide

         as the rolling thunder storm 
         dances across invigorated tides
         with a surging cadence of cresting waves bloom
         caught in the Rhythm and the Sea


                           ✩ ✩ ☼ ✩ ✩

Osiris is not a viable option,
The rays of him are toxic,
One must err on the side of caution,
One mustn't take in the toxins.

Not with a serpents gaze of night ,
I am the gleam in their very eyes,
The twilight of people's lives,
The shine dwindling with time.

Street lights conjoin with the void,  
As loss and gain meet with choice,
The old teach young about voice,
Lack thereof and unspoken poise.

Lines have gathered across the head,
Along with emotions, swirling regrets,
Primal fear creeps up ones neck,
The remainder of memories to forget.

I haven't slept for I have wept

I
Am
No
King

I haven't sang for I have pain

I
Am
No
King

I haven't laughed for I am ******

Keep
On
Looking

I haven't smiled for I am vile

You
Won't
Find
Me

For she dwells within me

A potion within a vial

Searching for answers,
Answers that have long since forgotten the questions,
As words have forgotten poems,
Poems that have forgotten books,
Books that have forgotten shelves,
And you, who has forgotten me,
Although you live here, my Isis.

You do not have the mind,
To know that I dream of you,
With me, as one in the same,
Glimmers of hope which make way,
For back breaking pain, and disdain
As you say, my name, I sob, I pray,
You encounter the soul provider,
Whom you alone, deserve.

Deciphering the hieroglyphics,
The depth of my chambers,
Such an undertaking,
Is only for those not wary,
Of rude awakenings and laws,
Forsaking the freedom of my bonds,
Which hold my place, along the gate,
Which controls my fate.

Bonds of loathing and taunting
Specters of faceless smiles
Messages of nameless moans
Titles and spiteful rivals,
Bring cries of despair and tears,
Which shatter the floor beneath,
Uncovering layers of disgust,
Skin deep, is the source of vanity.

Vanity meaning fleeting importance,
For it, death, life, joy, fear, hope,
And melancholy; know nothing,
As they are simply the effects,
But not the causes of the ruckus,
The frozen coating of ocean surface,
Ignorant to the swelling below,
Waiting for a chance to bring Diablo.

I
Am
No
King

You
Won't
Find
Me

Strip
Me
Of
My
Crown
And
Bury
Me

My
Queen

I found you half-dead.
In your eyes,
pupils were still giving away the scent of love
Breaking the harsh silence and the dark shapes of ****** footprints
Painted on your face.
The line of your body, turned into a mosaic bloomed scars,
Awakened a yearning inside of me, chopped my heart
In the timid kisses and gave away the color of your veins
Scattered on the fabric of our first awakenings.
In the depths of your flesh I'm trying to find the deafened sobs
I've listened to the dreamy nights
Under the veil of your skin,
Hidden from all sadness hungry of my tears.
I'm leaning your bloodless fingers on my lips
Listening to your presence.
By kissing your ******* I'm diving my touch in your naked
Lungs, spread out like a butterfly
Imprisoned inside your glass body.
With my tongue I'm discovering the taste of your neck,
Decorated with a red line
Of my love.
I'm biting your vocals,
Remembering of your laughter that still echoes
In the spaces of my thoughts.
You're still beautiful, safe in my arms.
You give away your happiness with a smile on your torn face.
Your love reaches me through a mild rushes of wind.
I'm leaning my cheek on your ankles,
The softness of your flesh overtakes me by passion.
And you are giving me your last stirrings of life
That you don't need with the tenderness that my breath is giving you.
I lie down next to you on the bed soaked in red,
I'm overtaken by the smell of rotting roses and smooth juices
In which we sink together.
I'm putting the remains of your waxy face on my shoulder,
I'm choked by soft closeness of your tangled hair
Packed on the pillow.
And I feel your gratitude,
While the sweet sounds of loving
Float through our world,
Safe and bloomed.

Social relations.
     Fading, dissipating.
           Regenerated and rebuilding.

Everything held deep spills out over past memories and future broken promises.
     Talking of brighter days with different time lines.

Watching, talking, passively dissecting minds of those like mine.
          All investigating our inner workings and imagined surroundings.

                     It's in the waking hours of the dawn. It's when time is irrelevant.
        When the new day brings nothing but revelations and unfiltered ramblings.
               Anything to fill this  void.

   The morning air feels stale compared to renewed awakenings.
Constantly picking at the scab.
          Digging for one last laugh.
                                        A final smile.
                       The perfect ending for the night we might forget.

      We forge new mental pathways and plan play dates.
Evolutionary socialization.
            Cigarettes serve as reality checks and mirrored reflections.

                         Open eyes burning for something tangible.
                 Awake and unaware.

       Filtering through the nonsense and intellectual genius.
Trying to read the dusted lessons buried between advice and elaborate fairy tales.

   We speak of ideas.
     We speak of all the things that rest on the ledge of our understanding.
        We dream of what it is and what it could be.

All seeking growth.
      All staying just within the caution tape.

Ponderous wondering of connections and false enlightenment.
                                               I remain skeptical even though I've felt it.
                       My mind has always held an untrusting grudge against my intuition.

     In the end it's just another day.
                              Contributions minimal.
                 Lessons learned... Still settling their sediments.
        They're Remnants.

Carpe Diem
funny boy
did you wait
till it was too late
hurry hurry
worry worry
you took life
in big giant bites
and then had to stop
to break
only when you
defeated yourself
hurry hurry
worry worry
but even then
after breaking
you got up and overcame
your life and art were amazing and never the same
race hard then fall or stall
and then
once again
get up
and give it your all
you did it
again and again
be extraordinary
hurry hurry
worry worry
never the same
look how you overcame

Good Will Hunting
Dead Poets
Jumanji
Mork from Ork
Patch Adams
Awakenings with De Niro
Aladdin
Death to Smoochy
Insomnia
Peter Pan
Mrs Doubtfire
Good Morning Vietnam
Jakob the Liar

hurry hurry
worry worry
I have to stop
not because I am out of art
there are many more
but because my fingers
are tired of typing titles

Peter Pan
you stayed young
fought the dark
and won many triumphs
again and again
hurry hurry
worry worry
you ran an amazing race
and a pace for two lifetimes
in the end the dark caught you
but you left behind
a mark of amazing art

"gather ye rosebuds while ye may"                                     - Robert Herrick
Carpe Diem
Rest funny man

I am encased in oppressive flesh,
Tissues that restrict my transcendent nature.

If it weren’t for this burdensome cage
I’d evaporate and roll over the city with the clouds.

Your thoughts can cage you or release you
Mind can give you a new realization
Or sweep you under a deep spell of hallucination
Imaginary demons can seize your thoughts
Depends on what our thoughts are
Repeated thoughts can become a reality
Facing at fine surprises or rude awakenings
Feed the mind with right thoughts
Let not unwarranted thoughts sneak in
Mind is powerful, subconscious a powerhouse
Thoughts in slumber suddenly becomes a reality
Choose your reality, for it depends on the thoughts
A sparkling and clear mind harbors positivity
Positive thoughts will steer you towards your destination
Such is the power of thoughts; we delve not much into them
Mind the thoughts and you will celebrate life