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Sally A Bayan Oct 2015
Fading Sun...

I was looking at the graying sky.
Trying to chase a fading sun
I peeped above the pointed leaves of the Yucca tree
My eyes were met by little bursts of orange stars
And oblique sunbeams... emitting fading brightness
Through the bushy leaves of the Sampaguita plant.

I was waiting for the moths to appear
Near my lighted candle,
But a gusty wind blew, and made the shell chimes
Sway back and forth...left and right
Round their base and through,
Until all five chimes made pleasant music
With the cool, whirring wind.

I was waiting for the late afternoon sky
To turn to elephant gray
To highlight the yellow glow from the street lamp
So I could test some newly hung Christmas lights
And the capiz lantern outside the french windows
But the rainshowers came all at once
And i found myself wet, from the pouring rain.

I was waiting...and saw a changing sky
The rain, just tip-tapping on the roof
A much cooler air blowing...
Bringing sprays of mist on my face...
Suddenly emerging...the shape of a bat or two,
Flying, crashing, through the dripping red palm tree.

On the horizon, sun was now a dipping balloon
If there's any, i would wait for any kind of moon.

On the garden chair, i sat
And just above me, came a regular stray cat
I heard its paws lightly scratching
The wet surface of the fiberglass roofing.

I still wait...and contemplate on hopes and prayers
I wait...for a lot of dreams to come true
i wait, for this long day to be over
While the night creatures,
In their own tones and tunes
Have started to croon...

Sally


Copyright October 16, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***another rainy day keeps the mind straying...***
Catriona E Jun 2015
Sometimes, my skull fills with water
And I forget what we are
We are not.
We

Typewritten letters punch holes inside my mind
Beams of light sifting through sand.
Or rainshowers
impregnating truth
where there is none

My physical realisation
wants for nothing.
Nothing
in us carries the weight
of our waters
like the ebb and flow
of life’s tide.
Rachel Duggan Feb 2017
you introduced me to storms i never even knew existed
i am no longer afraid of the lighting
or the rain
Nikki Paulin Sep 2013
Rainy days tend to bring back the thoughts of you and the memories too sweet to last.

Say, for instance, how we used to sing Neil Sedaka's Laughter In The Rain albeit usually off-key in the bleak afternoons of blissful rainshowers.

Please know I still take retreat in the savage memory of the way we cuddled our way to sleep.

The warmth of that olden moment is vividly felt now that cold is slowly taking over on my rough skin.

Then all of a sudden, a whiff of musk gradually permeates the olfactory as you generously caress my neck all the way to my chin.

And in the midnight of supposed lonely horrors, you deliberately move with the merest of ripples just so you could steal kisses on my forehead.

I shuffle my giggles into my sleeves as I roll slightly aside as though unconscious.

Just humor my bittersweet recollection of midday magic.
Sara Ackermann Sep 2011
The world is just such a cruel place, full of malice and chaos. Every day is passing slowly, moving from time to time. A rose bleeds with sorrow and loneliness. The rainshowers of today instead happen tomorrow, so the world burns. This hatred leads us forward, and army united. The edge of the blade takes away the pain, becoming the way of my life. The blood as it flows is everything ebbing away. My heart is kept alone. I lay on my side, missing your comfort, with my thoughts full of you. A bitter weight presses down, breaking my spirit, and I fly towards the sea, searching endlessly.
there's going to be quite a few of these
Dawnstar Jun 2018
water trembles on black lily night,
rainshowers' sudden splash wakes me.
looking from a faint orange glass,
a single star shines atop the city.
my heart sails across the stream
to the street where you live.
rain has stopped, air is clear,
I am walking on a sunlit day.
alone, I meet you; curious
we are to see each other,
like two well-met bluejays.

how is life?
well, it's good
so is mine

water trembles on black lily night,
my hands slip down the pane.
I wring the hang-down curtain,
and welcome in the summer rain.
Mosaic May 2015
I'm not really good at not killing things
Especially the things I love

You gave me a rose bush
And I, and I lit it on fire
That's what you call desire

I'm misguided
My soul trajectory is off
Just like cupid plays with arrows of love
Sometimes God messes up
We are all astray



In this cosmic chaos
But I still met you and try love, you
In my misguided way

I try to put that soul into every cigarette I smoke
Inhale, choke, definetly definetly go broke
Because you can try
But, but it is all rigged like carnival
We're the ones telling ourselves the lies

We are Adam and Eve
As far as knowledge
We are only seeds

You can be certain of nothing
and anything
Superposition
You are, you are the fiction

Those petals, I want them to burn like those lies in September, the end the Summer kind of heat, humid like rainshowers above head in your throat in your lonely lonely bed.

So I put the cigarette down in an ashtray in a mirror house
I am tiny
I have breathed most of my life out

In ways my reflection is changing
"I guess we've seen what it's like now,
to be lovers.
To scream that we're nothing
without each other.''

Heart ache is so catchy. Unlike like the cat in your alley. Isn't it all about being relatable. Isn't that shallow and sad. That pain is what brings us the closest.

— The End —