"reassuringly" poems
Hair
Gusty wind blows
thick gray clouds are heavy
....rain is out of season
but...impending
....i have no scarf
...no umbrella
to cover my head
.....but, i worry not......
...................
every strand
of my short hair
is wrapped with your soft kisses
and whispers of sweet nothings
.....................
your voice,
your words
spread all over my head
and there rests.....and sticks
......with every
...........thin brown strand...
......................
i hear the gentle tones of your soft kisses
feel the warmth of your breath
your whispered promises
are reassuringly clear
they form a canopy...a bonnet that protects
and reminds
.....you are always with me.....
...i am never alone...
......................
......I welcome the wind and the rain......
Sally
Copyright May 19, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
A smudged grainy ring against blue lines
it cuts through his handwriting like a breadknife
the blue ink ripples with the water-damaged paper
reassuringly human amidst the bleached whiteness
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
Eyes wide
you do not allow
oblivious sleep
shadows branded
on my retina
reveal all contrast
tattooed on my shoulder
a skeletal hand
*this illusion
pins me down*
your questions
have no answers
questions remain
asked again and again
*I swear
I know nothing*
You say everything
*is immaterial
subjectively real
ideas existent
in the mind
of the perceiver
I am*
(you insist)
a true believer
Parched and shrinking
I ask for mercy
you bring the cup
to my fissured lips
but it is empty
a vessel of air
you murmur
*there is only enough
for one
what will you give
in return?*
Heavy metal
arpeggios of wind
head bang
petulant faces
inured to rain
a repeating refrain
in falsehood
lies your truth
but even you
cannot halt the dawn
a dark horizon
pulls the strings
powerless
you sink
behind the cloud-
wall of your storm
is it safe now to close my eyes?
three times whisper
*be gone
bright fiend*
a weary incantation
spell of protection
the yawning wind
done with howling
hums reassuringly
*“a change is gonna come
imagine
peace in our time”*
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
It's our very first night together
I'm resting my head
On your chest
My hand on your shoulder
Your arm around me
Playing with my hair
Gently stroking it
Helping me fall asleep
Your other hand
Holding onto my arm
gently moving your thumb
Up and down
Reassuringly
I can hear your heart beat
Your heart as big and strong as Pharlaps
Your arms tightly round me
Holding me
Making me feel safe and happy
Genuinely happy
After the party we crashed on the floor
Even though it was the worst sleep
I've ever had
Because of the little space we shared on the hard floor
It was one of the best sleeps
Just because you were there
You move and your cheek is pressed against mine
I can feel your breathe on my neck
You moved your hand into my sleeping bag
And pull my top
And gently rub my back
I giggle quietly cause it tickles on my side
It starts to get cold
So I move closer to your chest and you hold me tighter
I fell your warmth
I press icy fingertips
On your burning skin
I drift off to sleep
Not for long anyways
My whole body twitches
I think I'm falling and scares me awake
And you pull me closer to you
And I instantly feel better
It's sort of mushy really
I felt better with your arm around me
As I fall gently asleep on your chest
Feeling the steady rhythm
Of your heart
And hearing your heavy breathing pattern
We slowly fall asleep
In each other's arms
Happy
And safe
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 3:24 AM UTC
Words,
Like lightning, ripping its way through my heart, jolting me violently as I struggle to compose myself.
"They're just words."
The trembling earth parts to reveal a smile, weak, fake, hiding the needle like pain the words you say cause me.
"No, it doesn't bother me."
I bite my lip, white bricks indenting into a plush garden, as the ocean threatens to overtake the beach with only my eyelashes to hold back the waves.
"Yeah, it is funny isn't it?"
You laugh about my imperfections, and I laugh with you,
hard, forced, hot air exhaling from my lungs as I blink and my mind scrambles to find ways to better myself.
"Totally, stretch marks are so gross."
Pink vines of ivy run their way across my body, and I wonder if I can find a way to hide the lighting on my thighs, my *******
"But you're still pretty though."
Your words force the air out of my lungs and I nod reassuringly, because I'm still pretty, despite all the things you say are wrong with me. Things that make me who I am, but to you are marks against me as a person, but its ok, because I'm still pretty.
They're just words, but they can make you choke, and cry, and want to change yourself, just so someone can tell you that you're still pretty.
But pretty is just a word, and I'm so much more than your definition of what makes me worthy in your eyes.
Words.
Lava building up inside me and finally getting the courage to force its way to the top, to pour out of me and cover my body in molten rock, encasing me in protection in the form of letters and confidence.
"I know."
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
tonight the sky.
dark palette.
the stars are projectors.
the paintings of them are in
perpetual motion,
carry the zero.
conflicted still life.
of spathodea.
of pomegranate.
of her own folded-up *****
it's all in how you interpret
the brushwork.
girls can tell.
a reassuringly dull sunday
turns to intrigue.
the busy girl buys beauty.
people are places and things.
lost affections in a room
in need of images
or at least explanations.
she looks for it.
she listens for them.
the sound of existing.
the sound of a quiet room.
a rainstorm or possibly the sound
of someone taking a shower.
blind little rain.
autosleeper lowers her head.
the economy of sleep patterns.
and little else celsius.
tonight the sky.
tomorrow a place where
one can ruin oneself,
go mad, or commit a crime
with paint.
Aug 15, 2022
Aug 15, 2022 at 9:07 AM UTC
The man was distraught.
that she could clearly see.
The pretty young doctor
sat quietly behind her desk
as the man explained
his systems to her. In detail.
you see doctor
i **** all the time.
i mean wherever I am
In church at the movies
on a date in my office
everywhere
I have no control over the farts
he was almost weeping.
but be said there is one blessing.
they are silent and do not smell.
in fact I just dropped one now.
doctor. You have to help me.
she nodded in sympathy.
look it's fixable she said reassuringly .
take two of these pills
four times a day with food.
and come back to see me in a week.
five days later the man returned
in an awful state,totally distraught.
*** *** *** he wept.
whats the matter she asked.
those pills you gave me made it worse.
when I **** now it stenches
like a stagnant swamp.
You got to help me.
The young woman
smiled and said that's great.
we have fixed your nose.
now.
Lets work on those ears.
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
The king and queen cried
“Bless us! We cannot conceive!”
And “blessed” they were.
Their heir, a miracle, a vision of royalties.
And so a celebration was in order
(as is most pertinent in events such as princess births)
to adorn the little lamb with gifts.
“Gifts”.
Whether the blame lies here or there
our princess lamb heir stands the most to suffer
in cases such as forgotten friends.
Or unforgetful vengeance--
So spite screeched an everlasting “CURSE THEE TO DEATH ON THE ***** OF A SPINDLE!”
And with a turn of its heels shock
set in.
...shock
sinks
in.
The well-intentioned sprite attempts to soften the wolf’s blow on our little lamb heir--
Only a nap--
only it would seem such in the conjecture of events.
Now no longer is she princess baby heir then does a spindle come alive
X winters later!
(convenient, one might say--in all the land one’s but burned, temptingly locked away in the curious tower)
Insert fainting sounds.
Insert crowded gasps.
Insert “told you so!”
And the sheep follow our little lamb’s sleep.
One hundred year sleep.
Hair follicles sprout a slimy green, and not-so-royal fungi flourishes--
brash brambles tuck in the herd as if to say
“Sleep tight!
Don’t let the mites bite!”
But not our little lamb.
Reassuringly beautiful princess lamb heir keeps
like red wine.
She is only to be drank up from the
right cup--
a proper lamb.
Prince Lamb.
Whose worries consist of much different things than our lamb heir--
but for another ‘lore.
Our Prince Lamb dips, sips,
lips on lips
and she is awake!
Beautiful princess lamb knows exactly what to make
of all this?
The sheep herd rises,
and their “joyous” bleating reverberate
and penetrate
cold castle walls and break down the thorny cover.
And they lived happily
(and most originally)
ever after--
as sheep tend to do.
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
In monumental testament.
I grabbed a bottle and began to fill it with notes.
In times where reassurance was needed most I replaced the contains of the bottle with thoughts.
Unable to speak in a time where actions proved to speak louder.
Hesitant eyes that waited for reply. Drawing a blank where silence seemed ideal.
On one of the notes I drew a ship on the front and back of it. Sliding it in the middle of the bottle.
Shaking the bottle up and down, I watched it shift back and forth in wave after wave of loose strips of paper.
Rough torn edges, uneven chunks of paper.
Considering myself human for the most part. Taking a minute to walk across the shore.
Watching a ship sail it's maiden voyage.
Blue lines, the smell of paper.
The sound of waves crashing against the sides of the ship.
Sitting down along the side of the shore. Watching a ship caught in a storm of paper.
Reassuringly gathering my thoughts.
The ship drawn perfectly, setting sail across the depth of the bottle.
Leaned upright, splashing down on one note or another.
Following my first mind I sat the bottle on a stack of books.
I still wasn't ready to talk
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 10:59 AM UTC
walking back home,
after a long tiring day…
see him beside me
smiling reassuringly…
he looks irresistible, as always!
fighting the temptation
to look at him,
I look down and smile
to myself…
How could I have forgotten him?!
he fills me with delight…
makes me jump with joy…
he makes me want to hold him..
and run after him…
he makes me want to dream!
he has seen me through thick and thin…
loved me every moment…
he is the only star of my every night..
call me a lunatic if u want!
meet my forever companion, the moon.
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 4:18 PM UTC
The brandy just as common
With the daughters
Reassuringly following to feed
The right howled lark
Into worn times.
Carry the jean size that you wore in high school
Since the advantage is not forgotten:
Drifting footmen believed manners
Learn prettier face,
But lean into the interrupted light
of another
gun-shooting hurricane on the television.
Indolent raisings are the explanation;
The snort of adolescent judgment dreadfully happens,
And we couldn’t free the dog’s role
Into the
Gently
Busily
Sulkily
… Oh how you’ve been.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
I am trapped in a straitjacket
Unable to move
I may as well be in a casket
Trying to remember how I got here
Everything is so unclear
I am blindfolded and everything starts to disappear
Out of control
Out of my mind
Out of a soul
I fight against the sleeves
Thrashing, resisting
Trying so hard to leave
Doctors whispering reassuringly
But the words don't reach me
No matter how kindly
In an asylum you don't pay rent
Because you are a slave against your will
Held there just for thinking something different
Not a single letter
No one wants to talk to the insane
No one even thinks you'll ever get better
Then you lose hope in your own recovery
No one else believes it, why should you?
You forget what it is to even be free.
Alone
Forgotten
Unknown
This straitjacket gets no easier to bear
I pull and pull
But it gets no better to wear
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
We studied sine waves at school,
reassuringly regular,
continuously cyclic,
unendingly, bendingly cool.
Consistent in order and logic.
Then I turned to poetry.
People poems moved my mind,
many rudely peculiar,
some consistently inclined,
unbending or heart rending,
often playing the fool.
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 6:12 AM UTC
I want this number etched onto my skin
as a permanent reminder of what once was
to remind me of both the pain and the beauty
the way ‘I love you’s fell from your lips so reassuringly when I needed it the most,
the future that we talked about sharing together so often that I was certain it would happen
the beauty that was us
as well as a reminder of the pain
of all of the broken sobs that shook my entire body
of all of the sleepless nights
of having to accept the fact that I’m no longer the one you long to be with
I want something to remind me of all of the promises made on this day
the ones that were never kept
as well as the ones that I still hold close to my heart
I want a tattoo to remind me of this day
the day that I accepted who I was
the day that I realized loving you was worth giving up everything I once believed to be true
I want this number etched onto my skin to remember the pain and the beauty
but not as a scar,
never a scar
I want it as a beautiful reminder
because you my love, are something never to be forgotten
I will not allow myself to act as if our love never happened
I will not treat it as a mistake
and when someone asks about the ‘XV’ carved onto my skin,
I will explain the meaning of it to the best of my abilities
and though they may adequately understand my words
they will never understand the importance of it
I want ‘XV’ etched onto my skin as a reminder
a reminder of a once great love.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 10:17 AM UTC
As I stumbled on the pebbled road
I broke a toenail and it left bloodstains
On the humble stones.
“Why did you let me get wounded,” I asked.
A voice from behind the obsequious hills answered,
“I did not,” the voice said reassuringly.
“I desired that you take the other road, but you didn’t listen.”
I trod on. Pained.
I searched for a band to stop the bleeding.
A long black thing lay on the grass.
Serpent!
“Why did you allow that devil bite me?” I cried.
“I did not,” the voice uttered.
“I sent an old man to give you a handkerchief
for you to bind your broken nail but
you said you weren’t crying.”
“Why can’t you just warn me at once?”
“I tried to.”
“You did? When?"
“I called you but you thought I was your girlfriend.”
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 8:27 PM UTC
Liquid silence flows between the cracks,
The awkward pauses and terse remarks ,
Of our cordial conversation.
My lips fumble as words scratch at their soft corridor,
The taste of discomfort and failure is salty,
Yet reassuringly human- alive.
You didn't do anything wrong,
Your perfectly placed hesitations and irony
Fell stagnant in the bitter pool of my expectations.
You couldn't help the way things went,
Self sabatoge danced sweetly on my lips,
Fates sticky web couldn't hold back deliberation.
Being with you, in this room,
Is the epitome of wide open loniness-
The kind talked about in books and eulogies.
It's elusive presence envelops me
As sentences fumble out of my mouth like gravel:
Unclear and unintentional, too genuine to matter.
I'm not sure how much more I can handle,
How many perfectly sane stories I can to listen to
Without spilling off the brink of sanity.
It's not as bad as it seems out here,
There's something charming about being utterly alone,
Something unexplained and unattainable
In this wide open loneliness-
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 1:55 PM UTC
what have you done to me.
i let you undress me with your eyes,
slowly and reassuringly.
and then aggressively with your hands,
undoing the buttons on my shirt
and unzipping my jeans
nearly ripping the fabric right from under me.
pulling me across the bed
breathing heavily into my ear,
i'm remembering why
i ever called you mine in the first place.
we decorated these walls with our fingerprints
and they remain as memories of every time we've touched.
now why you?
is it your scent, is it your skin?
the way the marks you leave on my stomach
feel like you every time i touch them?
its you that i want, its you that keeps me here
when i should be with whom i claim to love.
when you were mine,
it was a perfect dream,
we ran through the war with not a scratch
not a dent in our skin.
we got out of the mess,
accompanying each other through the storm.
I should have let you sit in the driveway,
I should have never let you walk through the front door.
Why couldn't you have left me alone in this room
without your taunting glares
begging for the affection i crave so much.
I swore i wouldn't do this.
I swore i wouldn't kiss your neck again,
i swore i wouldn't make you want me.
but I gave in.
so here you are
once again.
you're lying on my bed,
and i'm on top of you.
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
My heart comes alight
Every time I close my eyes
You live on my eyelids' inside
I think about you every night
Even when times get tough
And I want to run away
I close my eyes for a second or two
You're enough to convince me to stay
Today I found a picture of you
It made me want to cry
Knowing that I cant hold you now
To find you, I'd travel far and wide
I reminisce about our time
Heart slowly breaking in two
So many wasted opportunities
Too bad, nothing I can do
As time ticks away slowly
On this sly-looking clock
I tell myself reassuringly
This is only a pit stop
For one day I truly know
That it will be worth the time
That last barrier I will breach
And together we'll elope, escaping for a while
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 3:59 AM UTC
First day of 8th grade sex-ed class,
Sitting awkwardly beside you in my seat.
Closing our math binders in sync,
The health teacher strides in.
"Take out your folders class!" a loud voice booms,
I scramble to find it.
Taking out blank paper to write notes,
The teacher launching into a fast paced lecture.
"Thistopicisveryimportantblahblahnolaughingblah--"
Losing track of the words I stop and look to your sheet and copy,
To only see you have written one word--your name.
You notice me looking as I smirk at you.
I try to hold in the giggles,
Even though it isn't funny.
You reacting the same way.
I look up and catch your eye and I feel my tummy doing turns,
Why do you do this to me?
You look like your blushing but I couldn't tell as we both looked away,
Do I make you feel the same way?
We mirror movements without noticing it,
Life isn't making much sense to me.
I slump in my seat already bored of this lesson and let my hands hang loose,
I then realize how close to you I am, your warm breath blowing down my neck.
I can feel you look at me,
Me wavering under your gaze.
You do something surprising,
You slip your fingers through mine under the desk,
Hidden away from view.
I feel myself panicking my breath coming out faster,
Blushing like a cherry red tomato.
I readjust my grip reassuringly squeezing your hand in a friendly gesture.
They say your first love never lasts.
But a girl can dream.
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 10:14 PM UTC
Feast or famine.
The dry summer or monsoon season.
It’s not as though he had
murdered me.
That would be easier to
prove. There would be
no hiding
the blood of it.
And how I did bleed—
years later,
red all over it.
Improper.
Fuel for the fire.
Combustible.
But nothing trembles
as I weigh the being
of my existence against
what stoppage.
Order or chaos.
Black or white.
What has been spoilt
rotten can never be
golden. These are
the questions I ask myself:
Am I loved? Do I
love? Can I love?
While there is the story
he tells himself, reassuringly:
It was just ***
It was just ***
Jan 2, 2021
Jan 2, 2021 at 8:19 PM UTC
You salt the wound
you bend it back until it breaks
You just consume
despite the way that it may taste
Caught in the bloom
of creations which are not your make
You walk the plank
veiled steps towards what they say and think
Don't even blink
as we push the planet to its brink
Cohorts of war
without reason to what you wage them for
You just forsake
a sedated apathetic state
You choose to pray
to a non-responsive deity
Repeat after me
I am free
As death nods his head reassuringly
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 3:07 PM UTC
Your unwell she says
With a look of dismay
I'm fine I insist
Tho the slits on my wrist
Suggest otherwise
Your weight is dangerously low
She tells me
I tell her, my weight is fine
As i disagree
And so commonly as we do
We agree to disagree
But to what degree was
I willing to sink
Before I reached the brink
The breaking point
You need to be here she reminds me
I reply quietly
That this place is for the sick
And me, I am fit.
I am the picture of health
I speak
Tho the weakness in my voice
Suggests quite the opposite
So in silence we sit
And wait
And the clock it ticks
As the minutes pass by
It's okay to cry
She reassuringly speaks
And slowly but surely
Those minutes pass into hours, days and weeks.
And I start to open up my eyes a little
Perhaps even start to realise
That maybe she was right and I was wrong
That maybe that self defeating song
I'd played over in my mind
Had started to unwind me from
The real me, from reality.
That maybe I wasn't quite the person I thought I had been
And that maybe those seems I'd sown
To protect myself
Had actually served in destroying my
Physical and emotional health
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 6:28 AM UTC
As they couple
The Yeti and his flower
Did not know
That some one
Was watching them
Particularly the yeti’s flower
But they were in too
Much bliss
The young woman
Noticed the young man
And quietly
Told her skilled lover
That they should
Go back.
To where it is safe
When they were safe
They continued their
Love making
This time the yeti
Had his way with her.
Loving her reassuringly
That he will protect
His flower.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 2:46 PM UTC
When you’re feeling melancholy,
take the bus down the road.
Smile at the driver,
look out the window.
Give your seat to Mrs Shay,
She’s always loaded with grocery bags
and you’ll see Yappy,
the spaniel, if it’s a Saturday.
Greet the family going to church
Mary and Elizabeth all knitted out in their Sunday best;
Smile reassuringly at the college kid, who’s sitting for a test.
Ah! There you are! My stop’s not too far, was it?
But you’re no longer feeling melancholy now;
Don’t forget to visit!
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 2:20 AM UTC