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Anoushka Jain Dec 2014
A tale of adventure, A tale of strife. 
A tale of wisdom, a tale of life. 
In the streets of afghan, a quick learner
Enchanted by the kite runner. 

A tale of loss, a tale of gain.
A tale of horror, a tale of pain. 
With strife and hurt, all bestowed. 
And, the mountains echoed. 

As sorrow seeps,
Mariam weeps
A tale of hurt, 
Out to blurt. 
With arrows, bombs, axe and guns
Burnt with a thousand splendid suns.
A tribute to the Afghan writer! Hail Khaled Hosseini
Sally A Bayan Sep 2013
My mind is teeming with rhymes, but,
Can't even decide on the first lines to write,
I am confused...... I keep on waiting....
Precious moments are taking too long
To come through.
Right now, I am having
A motley of thoughts,
I am feeling sad...
I am feeling blue
I am coping with anxiety
I sure need a remedy.

Dan Brown? Ludlum or Khaled Hosseini?
Maybe, a Children's Tale by Richard D. Remler....
Or...one from those of a good Soul(in torment)....
I could make a necklace out of pearls and Lapiz Lasuli
Or I could turn to my Gardenia plants, to prune and trim....
A journal and a pen for some memories, some new lines...
A glass of red or white wine would be nice,
A mug of steaming coffee would be heaven....
Still, all these combined would not suffice...
I sure need the best remedy...

I know myself too well....
This time, I need my elixir,
My cure-all...
I need my panacea,
I need YOU.



(but, where are you?)
...doesn't make sense...



Sally

   Copyright 2013
    Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Feb 2016
(a repost from 2013)


My mind is teeming with rhymes, but,
Can't even decide on the first lines to write,
I am confused...... I keep on waiting....
Precious moments are taking too long
To come through.
Right now, I am having
A motley of thoughts,
I am feeling sad...
I am feeling blue
I am coping with anxiety
I sure need a remedy.

Dan Brown? Ludlum? Khaled Hosseini?
Maybe, a Children's Tale by Richard D. Remler,
Or...one from those of a good Soul(in torment)....
I could make a necklace out of pearls and Lapiz Lasuli
Or I could turn to my Gardenia plants, to prune and trim....
A journal and a pen for some memories, some new lines...
A glass of red or white wine would be nice,
A mug of steaming coffee would be heaven....
Still, all these combined would not suffice...
I sure need the best remedy...

I know myself too well....
This time, I need my elixir,
My cure-all...
I need my panacea,
I need YOU.



(but, where are you?)
...it doesn't make sense...


Sally

Copyright September 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***This is a repost from 2013---edited a bit...it brings such pleasure, when reading what was written some years ago...to know how one felt then...
how writing style had changed...from then, to now....it also
feels good to read thoughts from long ago...***
Sophie Jul 2016
as the talk of nouman
as the write of khaled hosseini
behold such beauties in their wording
I helplessly fall in them
Sally A Bayan Mar 2022
It's a space within a space, where
all are transparent...i am myself.

On two layers of shelves on a wall,
a dictionary and a thesaurus,
share space with what seems like
an heirloom of books, old and new:
Gibran, Dylan Thomas, Dickinson,
Bronte, P. B. Shelley, Jane Eyre,
Hosseini, few Ludlum oldies, etc...

Here, a blending of the tangible and
the intangible is present, like habits
and thoughts that don't, and can't die,
stuffs that've endured the years: old
unposted poems with scribbled notes,
faded photos in sepia...faded jeans;
a bed that awaits fatigued body and
mind on toxic days, and becomes a
desk to write on...when needed.

It's not as though nothing's awry,
imperfections are seen by the eyes,
some details may not be precise
in this accepted clutter of daily goings-
on...of feelings...of some undoings
that interrupt and are mingling
with enigmas flashing up the ceiling;
lost shoe-laces wander, and go hiding
among indispensable habits and things,
kept...retained, like a hanging purse,
grabbed, when a sudden trip occurs.

It's hot and cold in this ***** place,
it's cozy, my neatly-cluttered space.



sally b

Rosalia Rosrio A. Bayan
March 24, 2022
Wanye East Mar 2024
I remember that morning sitting across her,
I crushed that orange so unconsciously,
The nectar of it dripped across my leg,
The rage of being interrupted in our world;

I couldn't wait anymore to talk to her,
I had so much to listen to in the first place,
Every ignition of each neuron in her beautiful brain,
I wanted it all so jealously, I missed them so much;

I remember so much about her even with ADHD,
She is my greatest and my most precious hyper fixation,
I can't remember half my life but I remember her flowers,
I can't remember my favorite memories without her in it,

She is the night sky in full luminescence,
I am the moon knight, I remember each night,
I'll remember every night, I remember her,
She'll never be forgotten, insignificant nor unobserved,

I'd peel and eat every orange on the planet for you,
I did it once with tears knocking behind my eyes,
I'll do it all again, as Khaled Hosseini said
"For you, a thousand times over"
And then I'd do it all over again for you, my ruhi
when president elect Donald John Trump
sworn in vowing to accept the following pledge.
"I do solemnly swear (or affirm)
that I will faithfully
execute the Office of President
of the United States,
and will to the best of my ability,
preserve, protect and defend
the Constitution of the United States,"
whose surprise come from behind
winning as commander in chief
ten days after Tuesday, November 5, 2024
doth stymie and stump
the writer of these words,
who would much prefer leader
of our free webbed wide world
a character like Forrest Gump.

I find myself dumbfounded
and not trying to be a smart ***
foo fighting generic humble
sitting on his ****,
nevertheless, I rather imagine
(fire breathing snapping) dragon,
whose known fearsomeness clearly recognized
versus accompanying, (albeit riding shotgun)
in his swiftly tailored
harried stylied customized reo speedwagon
freshly minted forty seventh president
as he cozies up
with top three notch totalitarian rulers
of the webbed wide world
such as Ali Hosseini Khamenei,
Vladimir Putin, and
Kim Jong Un for starters.

Soon - once dominion wrought
upon peoples of these United States
freedom of life, liberty
and the pursuit of happiness
will find inalienable rights
enshrining Declaration of Independence
and Constitution well taut
flag rent internecine conflict
pitting free soilers against slave owners

and rendered all for nought
countless young lives sacrificed
upon hallowed ground,
where vicious battles fought,
and feverishly achieved
courtesy unimagined beastie boys
nsync with cutting crew
witnessed progressive solutions
with grievous social issues,

but now that big bad Don
secured a majority
of 270 electoral votes
required to elect as POTUS,
(and did you notice absent
accusation of rigged elections?),
where gubernatorial celebrants
swigged one after another draught
of legitimacy to lampoon

anybody and everybody at will
invariably kindle sophisticated wordsmiths,
who possess an incisive wit and wisdom
would showcase their adroit skill
in their zeal to fulminate
against self appointed
dictatorial henchmen as bitter pill
wickedly spewing phlegm out nostril
demanding theatrical performances

attendance required or else
lest one get hashtagged as linkedin
with subversive nasty happy horsesh*t
as stipulated in their handbill
addressed to each person
electronically and courtesy hard copy
individually courtesy autofill
utilizing a generic template
to pronounce all future edicts.

Away thinly veiled threats
to wreak havoc
and foment spoiled Christmas
for the next four years,
whereby maybe Santa
in league with reindeer and elves
can arrange for Cruella
to feign being his long lost sis
before he gets his bear size paws
on documents painstakingly drafted

against British sovereignty
over fate of thirteen colonies
to relish contra dancing
at all hours of the day and night
(watch for ContraCopia
Saturday, November 30, 2024 -
2:00 pm until 11:00 pm)
where all proceeds go
to raise fiddler on the roof
atop complex edifice,

where wild asparagus throve,
and swallowtail butterflies
flitted to and fro, hither and yon
totally oblivious, judicious,
fractious, capricious, and adventitious
dramatic changing of the guard
upholding fledgling recipe for
Norwegian bachelor farmers
forefathers/mothers to jump/
kick started democracy.

— The End —