"secluded" poems
Standing on a secluded cliff,
Turning my eyes to the sea.
I try to net with the smallest sniff
What freedom and oblivion may be.
The waves crashing onto the rocky shore,
Each one inevitably fading away;
no longer being part of the bore,
but instead washing over the bay.
I wonder how it feels giving up to the stream;
My lungs filled with endless devotion.
For I realize the waves crashing to be redeemed
Don´t matter as long as they're part of the ocean.
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
To be thankful is to be grateful
For another day on this earth
But let it not be secluded
To only a single day every year
Every day you have on this earth is one to be thankful for.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 1:40 AM UTC
“The Owl and The Fox”
Silvery white shines the moon tonight
As the sea caresses the shore
And rain slips through the door
The wind roars aloud
At a ship sailing on a cloud
My safety seems so weak
For these walls are all i seek
To guard against these forces strong
But my safety will not last for long
This hope I abandon in all
And pray to God to catch my fall
His hand i do not feel
Though his help I know is real
My castle is gone
Standing alone I feel so wrong
Secluded on this sandy stretch
I look to my right and to my left
Then looking to the water black
I see a face that has no lack
Of terror and fear
That drowning is near
Forgetting all thats been lost
Saving them is my only thought
Plunging into the icy sea
I try to save them as i tried to save me
Kicking back in hope of life
The waves cease their strife
And the wind sinks in its icy knife
Looking down to face this man
I see it was a woman i brought to land
Taking her hand
I lift her from the sand
Staring at me she opens her lips
Then speaks in a voice not honeyed or crisp
Never the less her speech I can tell
Is the voice of an angel chiming as a bell
I try to let go of her hand lily white
But she holds on so very tight
And whispers so slight
Nine words in my ear
That I could barely hear
“Thank you for saving me
my gallant gray knight”
Heart skipping a beat I knew that I would
Love only her for as long as I could.
I'm sure you can see
Even though this may be
A story far off way out in the sea
I still hope in my heart its about you and me.
From The Fox, To The Owl
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
..
Save from the hidden nests of birds,
it was the only one there...isolated,
like an isle...crested on the leveled
top of a gorge...its way down or up
was through a hand-carved series of
steps on its slope...at its front was a
curved gorge......one would think,
it was trying to cross over
the cottage was small, weather-beaten,
desolate......its wooden walls seemed to
have shrunk...its faded colors proclaimed
its age...its having survived past storms....
from its window, the stream was seen,
and heard, flowing on and on between
these two precipitous valleys.
light came from the sun...and moon,
music was provided by the murmurs of
the forceful wind, the continuous flow of
water on the stream, the stirring of the leaves,
the crackling of branches and twigs, the birds'
singing in the spring...the pounding of heavy
rains on its roof...and countless other hymns
of nature......the dweller had heard them all...
beneath a lonely moon glow,
when nights were cold,
there hovered low 'pon its aged roof,
rounds of layered fog...like a series of
steps....like a stairway to the sky...
fog slyly crept, and wilfully shrouded
the cottage.....it vanished from view,
the two gorges and the stream, hushed,
in the dark loneliness of that secluded
spot......their vulnerabilities, trapped
inside....misshapen silhouettes...
in light and in dark,
the whistles of nearing and departing
boats....were wailing, haunting calls,
piercing the peaceful calm of the valleys, or,
maybe, the stilled complacence of the cottage,
or...of the one living in that lonely cottage,
...lost, or gone astray, now weary and worn,
willing to be found...longing to be reunited
.......with the light and warmth of love...
the cottage, the gorges, and the stream
would be loneliest,
without the cottage dweller...
Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 27th, 2018
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 6:51 PM UTC
He's so possessive
He turns aggressive.
Fire burns his passion
And his intentions impure.
Being over protective
Is not impressive.
Locked in a prison
Is what it's like.
Abusive,
Bruises,
Secluded,
Excuses.
Love has become an illusion.
A mystery is the conclusion.
Fear has polluted your body.
Cleaning yourself up has become your new hobby.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
Tightly forcing her body against the clay
Scraping her tarnished skin, on its unforgiving stones
Determined
Unhinged, narrow thought became disturbed
Intention, soaking the soils energy
Becoming one with nature
Persuit, rapid decaying
No trail of life
Evidence faded
Secluded mountain peak
30 miles in, her only goal accomplished
Her pocket knife she holds over head
Pretending to cut the fluffy clouds in half
One fast Stab
She lays in her vanishing grave
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 6:51 PM UTC
An observer of the earth.
She sits in the secluded corner of the parlor,
Watching.
Watching the women
In tight corsets and ornate dresses.
Their hair
Large and elaborate.
Their laughs
High and false.
Makeup
Adorning their faces.
They are
Perfect.
She observes herself.
Jeans
Torn.
T-shirt
Too big.
Hair
Messy.
Laugh
Real.
The women
Look like they are in pain.
The girl
Is happy.
The women
Say beauty is pain.
But I feel beautiful just the same
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 7:42 AM UTC
i've never desired to be selfish more than i do at this moment.
take you away so you are alone with me
your hand in mine, squeeze for comfort
eyes looking at me, through me
smile like the sun, for me because i made you laugh
sweaty palms pawing at the inside of my thigh, secluded together
i love you's shared with only each other
but i will not be selfish.
i will not cry on my couch at 7:10 AM before school because i know i'll see you.
i will not talk about you to my friends and they will not ask me how i am.
i will not hide in the bathroom during lunch so i don't have to see you be okay while i am heart broken.
i will not sneak glances around the hall in search for your heart-melting eyes.
i will not be selfish.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
Why am I the outcast
Who was I to know
That everybody tires
Of the ones who love them most
Why am I being punished
What did I do wrong
Why do you have to push me away
When I've tried so hard for so long
Why can't I give up on you
When your already so far gone
I've secluded myself, I have no one
And you said you want me to move on
Why am I the one
With the broken heart
Why is your life
Being ruined
Why won't family talk to me
Why am i turned away
No one in this world wants love from me
No one has ever stayed
Why have I been outcasted
Why have I been pushed away
Why can't somebody love me
Why can they not stay
Is everyone a liar?
Is everyone like you?
Or is it me that's the tragedy
Why do they hate me more than you
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 9:29 PM UTC
Stand up on top of your castle
Watch all the pretty lights dance
Come down to join in the party
Trip out and dance
Lucy makes everyone happy
But confused
The outside world is fun one
But inside
There's a whole nother fun you can use
Psychedelics will open your mind
To the world outside
and the one within
Which are both seperate
and the same
You can't just be focused on the outside,
The pretty things,
The fame
Inside it is beautiful,
Spiritual
Quiet and secluded
With too much outside
Your brain can get deluded
X and acid, TCB
DXM and DMT
**** and *****
All the drugs you use
Can be abused
That bass can make you lose your mind
Go blind
With all the bright lights
Until your mind's not the only thing you can't find
Unwind
Sit inside Zack's truck
And take some down time
Get your mind unstuck
This place is beautiful
These people are trippin
But if I see one more hot ***
I'm gonna lose my loose grip
and
****** is not sexuality
Peace, Love, Unity, Respect
Help you out when you need it
What's given out is given back
Aesthetic
is a beautiful
but
overwhelming
experience.
Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 8:51 PM UTC
We are polar opposites
You are West, I am East
Our views always contradict
You have a sweet tooth, I don't like sweets
You are white, I am black
Not literally, but just in life view
Sometimes you're ***** white and I'm clear black
It varies from half empty to half full
You are an extravert
While I am an introvert
You like being surrounded by people
I'm fine being secluded in the darkest corner
You're frank and always true
I lie so no one will have a clue
But you always know what I hide
While I am oblivious if you're really fine
You are a cat-lover, I am a dog-lover
It rain cats and dogs when we're together
You sing the sweetest meow at my whimper
I happily wag my tail at your purr
We both like music though
But we listen to different genres
We never even shared on one earphone
So sometimes we just endure the silence
You are a sadist, I am a *********
You leave bite marks on my skin
Whenever you're overwhelmed
But I'm really fine with it
You like Vampire Diaries and Victoria's Secret
While I like TVXQ and anime
We'll never agree on a TV show
Now who's gonna hold the remote control?
You are a clean freak
I am not that very clean
You're probably next to Godliness
While I'm second to the last in that list
You are very hardworking, I am lazy
While you are being busy
I'm being a potato on the couch
"Sweep the floor.", you said as the broom flew on my face, "Ouch!"
I like food trips
But you are on a diet
You like to eat healthy
I like to eat anything but veggies
True, we don't have anything in common
Except for the dislike of the black part of the fish's meat
But we are familiar of our demons
And the how-tos for its defeat
Yes, we must be polar opposites
And yes, we're like magnets
Positive plus negative
To each other, we are attracted
I am salt, you are pepper
And we complement each other
We are each others' puzzle pieces
Completing each others' emptiness
We are yin and yang
We cannot live without either one
And most importantly, you and I
We rhyme
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
I am the catalyst of this cataclysm
the catastrophe that impaled
the atmosphere
of this vagabond heart
that is shaped like a sphere
and an uncertain future
being build out of fear
that gets bypassed product
of my cynicism.
Secluded in my lab
concocting a potion for this illness
and when all else fails
call me the alchemist
nothing more than an
angst-ridden antagonist
my apologies to the pessimist,
my excuses to the optimist
I was born to be a *********
with a heart made of silver.
Buried in my bunker
trapped in someone else's lore
which in turn makes me the catalyst
of my own downfall
I was baptized a Catholic
without ever being asked
turn me into a Cyclist
and I'll pedal real far
turn me into a Scientist
and my lab coat will leave my side
turn me into a labyrinth
and you won't be able to find
traces of me, of who I was
or who I never came to be.
Dec 26, 2009
Dec 26, 2009 at 3:00 PM UTC
On chilly, weird wet nights in Seoul
lonely trash cans cuddle up for warmth,
feral alley cats zydeco in the rain,
street folk sip from brown-bags,
that will get them through the night.
Our umbrella slips through fog,
stealthy as a U-boat through depths.
I confess a fetished fondness for the click
of her heels upon the cobblestone walk;
the Angel Falls of raven hair down
the leather shoulder of my trenchcoat.
We will harbor heat within the sultry sheets,
toss carnally upon waves of sensuality,
opposites secluded in the Yin and Yang of night.
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 3:46 AM UTC
An urban legend of sorts they said, of a tree, of a
branch that took any weight given. it has nickname
It had a place in secluded nature where no one seen.
**"The *** tree,**
"Really,
"Ye but you have to watch your step,
"Why??
"Well lets just say its a well fertilized ground,
"The earth and plants feed well on the,
"Sap,
"Seeds,
Not from one but the many, I heard the branch
Can take any weight, a gentlemen of plentiful weight
Tested the legend and got stuck **** naked
Not for a,
"Moment,
"Minute,
"Hours,
"Was he stuck, birthday suit and all,
His lady friend had jogged off with wallet and all,
Its on YouTube,
Called tree hugger nudist,
There is loads of dents little *** holes,
Some say its all the ***** *******
So many hard ones poking dents,
indentations forever of ******* against this tree.
"I've been their done that,
Really,
"Never again,
"Were standing on this branch,
"What's that look for,
"Nothing,
(Giggles under breathe)
"Getting into the moment,
"Thought sap,
"Tree sap,
"Was seeping in to my hair,
"Don't stop what happened stuck,
*"Pants down skinny **** man up tree,*
(giggles loudly)
"Dude I'm 6 foot 5inches,
It was sap of a different kind,
(Gags in mouth)
No Fudging way,
Yep that's not the worst,
"How the hell does some one seed a tree that high,
**"It was like the tree was ******* itself,**
"Old juice, sap, Klingon,
"What ever I throw up on her,
She bit down,
I, we feel three feet out the tree,
"So that's what the plaster cast is from,
"Is that why your walking funny,
Twenty nine stitches its like something
From a Frankenstein film,
Never again my friend a bed is where ill be from
Now on, she fell in a puddle of Jib juice triplets
She had all three different, DNA tests on all
Who visited the tree.
As a video recorded of all who entered,
Just not the naked bits seen.
**"Nature can keep its *** tree,**
"I'll be lucky if mine works again,
"Mine isn't wood its a limp branch now,
*"Dude you got ****** by wood,*
"Bitten limp by teeth,
"Unlucky bro,
"Hahahahah,
"Rather you than me,
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC
He walks through a wood once every month
He takes the same route near The Wishing Pond
He meets with the Collector in a secluded building
Who never fails to purchase every new painting
The man was an artist, the Collector was a fan
His works and his reputation was known throughout the land
The Artist had it all: a nice house, a loving wife,
friends in every town and city, and wealth to last his life
Every month, another painting
Every month, the Collector's money
His life was set, his life was perfect
All he needed as an artist was a self portrait
So this next month's painting would be special
For when he would pass, this will be his memorial
He started on an early morning, standing in front of a mirror
With skill and patience, shading and texture, the first sketch was done
The painting process took a few days
Without sleep or food, for hours in his room he stayed
Near the end of the month, the portrait finally done
Proud and exhausted, the artist exclaimed, "This is a special one."
The next day, he readied his portrait to take
To the Collector, who was expecting to be amazed
With a glance at the picture before he could leave
He noticed many flaws and said, "I want a perfect me"
He sent a letter explaining the delay
To the Collector, disappointed, he lessened the pay
For days, the Artist fixed each flaw
The big ears, the small nose, the feminine jaw
Every day he found a new imperfection
But after months and months of fixing, he achieved satisfaction
He took his self portrait on his once monthly walk
To the Collector's house, pass The Wishing Pond
He tripped on a rock, dropping his portrait
Falling into the pond, his art was ruined
The canvas had sunk, the water grew murky
The paint spread around and clouded before him
The cloudy colors swirled in the water's waves
The Artist, distraught, sat in heartache
A figure rose from the water, the colors had faded
He recognized it immediately as the perfection he painted
His portrait was alive for to not be was imperfect
His creation looked back at him and exclaimed, "I am The Artist"
Throughout the years, the portrait had adopted The Artist's life
With perfect skills, perfect fame, and even the love of his wife
The Collector, impressed by its own work, gave it double the pay
He also terminated his contract, he and the Artist had made
The Artist was left with nothing
His life stolen by his painting
Embodied perfection had taken it all
Living wishful thinking, alive from The Pond
He tasked, and pushed, and berated himself to achieve perfection
He succeeded, but lost everything to his perfect version.
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 10:46 PM UTC
I secretly sat at your secluded spot on the lake
I languidly listened and watched the Sunset
writing this while I cease to worry
because I was wrong.
They were wrong when they pigeonholed
you in black and white as one toned ordinary
when you're really vivid shades of hazel
More than meets the eye & captivating
as many shades as in the Sunset
I've been watching from your spot.
Colour me interested because I want to see what hue we'd make mixed together
Yours would compliment and supplement mine
into a vibrant tone
brilliant enough to paint a whole canvas
with the full spectrum of our shades in our union.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 1:30 AM UTC
Master, have mercy.
I am Master. I
Have no Master.
The planet
is atrocious.
I am It.
Planet Earth
is atrocious.
I am It.
Why is it so hard
to see
be yond peace?
Why is it so hard
to be
who you want?
The mind, secluded
in a prison rift
of copy paste
makes waste.
Where is my paper?
Where is my pen?
I write for me!
I repeat as if I
will soon
believe.
I write for me!
(logging on again)
The planet is horrid.
I am part of It.
Oh, Peace & War,
do we know it.
Yet with an audience,
my imagination
grows stagnant.
The once in abstract
gathers into form.
I did this misdeed.
A disservice.
Once a dreamer.
Now a journalist.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 12:36 AM UTC
I am crazy enough to want to be with you.
The craving is cruelly immense.
I am crazy enough to love only you.
The feeling is truly intense.
I am crazy enough to perfectly see you.
The flaws are secluded.
I am crazy enough to not see the lie of you.
The pain you cause is excluded.
I am crazy enough that no pain hurts me deeply.
The wound is convinced to never be shown.
I am crazy enough to forgive you for whatever reason.
The issue is decided all on her own.
I am crazy enough to trust your every word.
The persuasive tone defeats all doubt.
I am crazy enough to think you don’t do it on purpose.
The subliminal actions are pointed out.
I am crazy enough to say they're not real.
The truth is something I refuse to believe.
I am crazy enough to not care about myself.
The heart continues to be worn on my sleeve.
I am crazy enough to do anything.
The one you once loved will always be here.
I am crazy enough to admit that person is me.
The instant you call, I'll immediately appear.
I am crazy enough to drop everything to get to you.
The things I’d do are unthinkable.
I am crazy enough to save you from any danger
The effort inside of me is unsinkable.
I am crazy enough to let you use me.
The hope helps me think otherwise.
I am crazy enough to give you everything I have.
The hurt, I know, will oversize.
I am crazy enough to not care what happens to me.
As long as you are happy.
I am crazy for you and the joy you bring.
I hope this doesn’t sound too sappy.
I am crazy enough to keep on trying.
The damage can be somewhat repaired.
I am crazy enough to risk failure.
At least I showed you that I cared.
I am crazy enough to walk in the pouring rain.
The coldness of the weather won't stop me.
I am crazy enough to think I'm invincible.
The pieces that are left wish to agree.
I am crazy enough to prove to you how strongly I feel.
The energy inside is a fresh supply.
I am crazy enough to face the deepest darkness.
I can save you in a blink of an eye.
I am crazy enough to put myself out there to protect you.
The shield of my body won't let anything through.
I am crazy enough to wash away all your fear.
The touch of our fingers is the cue.
I am crazy enough to want to be crazy forever.
The comfort of your company is top of the line.
I am crazy enough to be crazy for you.
The way I am, is the master's design.
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 5:57 PM UTC
People pass by me,
from all every direction
even in winter snow.
From exhausted firemen,
expectant mothers,
forgotten children,
marathon sprinters.
Even grumbling men carrying heavy, ancient computer printers.
Each have their share and take their turn on me, the local sheltered, secluded
seat.
Even if only for a deep breath and a break or a little body
heat.
Bags and books, all sorts of things have been dropped or left on me, proposals have even happened here, you
name it.
If you don't believe it, come see for yourself and
frame it.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
Heavy head.
Heavy hands.
Heavy heart.
Through my worries it slinks in.
My hopes are beaten
To a thick dry pulp in my heart.
Dully, I sit heavy heavy.
Movement is all impossible.
I am a marionette with cut strings.
Rough and tattered curls.
Ripped and torn dress.
Stoic, so so stoic, yet searching.
Where is the light that once was?
Alone in this mire, I shed my tears.
Secluded and rotting in self pity.
There are no maps, no decisions.
I am lost without guidance
In this game of life limbo.
I don't know when I'll leave.
This is my own prison.
Dec 25, 2010
Dec 25, 2010 at 11:31 PM UTC
in the secluded shell
of night
crimson lips unseal
cosmic stillness stirred
flower ripples tinted
with touches tender
on quivering skin
in moon’s breast
burns a fire tonight
the primeval fire of passion
in it melt
crystals of our emotions
pristine
a night-sky
bliss-soaked
bejeweled
stars hanging complicit
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 11:49 AM UTC
You may think that I don’t know what love is
But I asked the sky the flowers and the trees
They all had an explanation for me
The sky spoke in a low hush tone
Whispering to me I will never be alone
That when I feel secluded I’m surrounded by peace and quiet sounds
That I shall never feel alone
The flowers told me something I once knew before I wore scars
Sometimes you will see beauty in someone
But as the layers fades it reveals the truth
The trees stood brilliant by my side
It held me with its undergrowth pulling me near
It told me I’m like no other that I harvest strength everyday
Gives me faith and gives me sound
That there are all moments we don’t want to face
But we take on the hardships that we are dealt
In these moments we find our way
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 1:30 AM UTC
Secluded in the darkness,
trapped behind the bars of Society;
a lonesome figure is enveloped in confusion.
Beyond the bars lay the horizon spread across the landscape,
stretching into the infinity.
Desiring no more than to break free from the isolated realm of the quiet,
the figure makes an abrupt change within itself:
to become an extrovert.
Suddenly, the bars were relinquished;
but a fragment of the figure rested upon the Earth.
The fragment manifested itself,
as though Manifest Destiny herself was reborn,
into another figure.
The figure
called itself...
...an introvert.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 2:38 PM UTC
Even when he walked through that door for the first time
The thought of engaging with him in any sort was a crime
Ultimately my first thought was
Now I understand why we never crossed paths
An aggressive, secluded, sexist male entity
However, preoccupied by my own judgement, he thought me to be pretty
And all of a sudden, that grotesque mortal molded into a handsome beast
Nurturing, loving, controversial but attentive the least
Gracefully and gradually I fell for his mediocre personality, Him
Oblivious and blinded by his own ****** of happiness, I, -
hypnotized by the fairy tale, did not see the photons of our love go dim.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 3:51 AM UTC