"shielding" poems
I remember hiding under an old cherry wood dining table. I remember holding my baby sister, shielding her eyes, covering her and trying to tuck her away. Pulling her as close to me as possible, like I might be able to fold her skin into mine so she wouldn’t have to see what was happening around us. I can still hear her crying into my bony 7 year old shoulder and whaling amongst the chaos with the bitty 4 year old voice that she had at the time. I remember the heart stopping feeling of watching my mother get thrown into the wall and watching my brother, 11 years older than myself, hurtle the beautiful antique silver coffee *** that my grandmother left us- into the space near her head where it bludgeoned the wall. I remember barely being taller than the table myself and pulling my sister out when I saw a chance for us to escape the scene and run into another room. I remember turning around and seeing my older sister, who was 10 at that time, running up and hitting and kicking my brother and getting shoved to the side. I’ve grown accustomed to the headaches I now get at the sight of flashing police lights.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
Blonde hair, tight tanned body
Not usually my type but
You stir something in me down there.
You smile shyly,
Girl, you are going to get us into more trouble.
You don't seem to need much coaxing.
Down slides the red cocktail dress,
Your toned body freed.
Black lace ******* shielding heaven.
Soft lips on mine, feels so good
Supple ******* in the palm of my hand,
Pinching ***** ******* a specialty of mine.
Feeling you tremble underneath me
Floods my cup,
I cannot wait to taste you.
I feel your fingers slide
between my thighs,
As our tongues do ballet.
Going to gain our membership
to the sisterhood now.
Wet knuckle status.
We are top to toe,
Better access.
I am starving for you.
It wont take us long to reach Nirvana,
I get it now,
I would have burnt my bra if I ever wore one.
Your ****** and my mouth are a perfect match
I do not usually swing this way
but am honored to dip my toe in your pool.
Crying out you pull away.
That's not how I work,
You will leave complete or not at all
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 3:16 AM UTC
The nightingale is titillating;
its songs shiver down my spine
while listening to its melodious voice;
hearing the pitch-perfect harmonies,
is as calming as the summer sea
I watch the nightingale, perfectly perched on the tree
whispering sweet sounds of seduction
beckoning to her mate
its voice echoes throughout the night
Filling the eeriness of the pitch-black sky
My own nightingale, won't you sing to me?
Your voice is my sanity,
soft-spoken and light, solace rests in your songs,
It covers me like a blanket,
shielding me from all harm
Safe and sound in your presence
captured by those gentle brown eyes
your peace is like the moon,
Resting still in the dark
But always following around
My nightingale sings me to sleep
as the sky changes from dusk to night
the sweet little notes caress my ears
while I gently close my eyes
dreaming to her lovely lullaby
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 11:30 AM UTC
How do I put it?
Well...
Your eyes
Emeralds
Crystal clear emeralds shielding utter mystery
Words...words...words
I'm trying to find the words
To compete with your beauty
Bear with me for a while
Delights reflecting the sun rays
Incompetent habits of mine trying to serenade
Everything you've ever planted inside of me
Can't you see?
Oceanic pearls hidden under the sea
Driven wonders of destiny
I'm talking to you
No no,
The magnitude of astrology couldn't put into words
Your dazzling pair of stars glazing elegance
Can't you see?
How you blind me...
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 4:18 PM UTC
Nina pranced about
the lush green grove.
The pitter patter of her footsteps
like raindrops on the ground,
and her movements,
like a fog rolled through a valley.
A white satin leotard
decorated with flowery lace patterns
A tutu that blossomed
from her slender waist.
Hair elegantly tied back into a bun.
Face, filled with symmetry, lightly made up with powder.
Her cheeks flushed with a pinkish red blush,
but natural like her lips of pomegranate red.
The grove,
short deep green ryegrass that rolls over the lumpy ground like moss.
Trees shade like many arms shielding many eyes.
The pure white light of the sun shone through the canopy in beams.
Nina danced furiously intent and
music box intricately
in and out of the beacons of light
as a ballerina should following a lifetime of training.
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 12:44 PM UTC
I admit the Pressures you Three must pass
Your own Barometres took quite a toll
From Stubborn Demands your ****** Peers had
Compel you to Shrink and keep on a Roll
But there are VALUES; Those Trusted Elders
In Humble Present their Words will sure Guide
All you need is some Time for yourselves, Brothers
Such that its Petals will unwrap for your Sight
Kind and apt Admiral! May your Shoes fill
Set their Braces to walk they know can Trust
So even if Hooties make Milk-Thoughts spill
A Shielding Light to soap their Dunged Shells, must.
This is just an Advice. Again from a Friend
Whose busy Torrents tries to Help does rend.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
mask
i’m behind a
mask
but it’s no ordinary
mask
it’s hiding my emotions
shielding others from my
depression
my mask
hiding my true self
displaying happiness
but a mask will never be the truth
a mask will always be
a hiding place
some wear for fun
some wear for theater
some wear to be funny
but i wear my mask
because i’m not
happy
happy
what a simple word
however a chain
i pull this chain
behind me
my mask held up
by my scarred wrist
happy
Five letters
but five tons of weight
will i ever be happy?
this mask
may hide my feelings
from others
but it will never
hide them from me
mask
i’m behind a
mask
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
A ship in a bottle is a useless thing,
encapsulated, isolated.
It is meant to be crewed.
We are each holographic captains
seeking first mates
and yeomen to climb the riggings
and guide us through the storms.
Floating colonies needing founding,
battened hatches guarding dwindling
stores and shielding superstitious
sailors galore.
We must learn to trust our
crews and captains alike to
brave the rough seas and
coral reefs of life and
nature's faith.
Sometimes ships run aground,
the founding of the colony,
and then sandcastles reign supreme.
We must learn to trust our
crews and captains alike to
learn from their faith in nature.
We must build upon the dunes,
carrying buckets of water and
trust from the sea to inland
shores. The castle, like the ship,
will one day be reclaimed by the
sea, despite our efforts.
We build them anyway out of hope,
fearing faith, learning trust, while
wishing we were safe in a bottle.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 8:23 AM UTC
These eyes have felt
their fair share of tears that burn
Forgive my eyes for they are yet so green
They have seen much but still they do not learn
These lungs have breathed
The air both fresh and acrid
Forgive them for they are yet so green
They only do what they must when all runs turbid
These ears they've heard
Hurtful promises and whispers that have stung
Forgive my ears for they are yet so green
They're know not to ignore the language of forked tongues
These lips have served
The most callous of opinions
Forgive them for they are yet so green
They can't seem to curb pent up notions
These hands have grown tired
From shielding my tear-stricken face
Forgive these hands for they are yet so green
They're still so afraid to welcome the gift of future days
These legs are sore
For they have travelled far
Forgive them for they are yet so green
They knew better than to enter through doors left slightly ajar
This mind is weary
From thinking of a life meant only for dreamers
Forgive my mind for it is yet so green
They know not of the inexistence of greener pastures
This heart... My heart
Pounding each beat that betrays
Beats with an anvil in tow
Forgive it for it is yet so green
It's having more trouble than it cares to show
This face I wear
A weathered mask I'm unready to shed
Forgive it for it is yet so green
There's still life in it...
For there's yet much to be said
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
It's half past four and the Red Rose
is Doppler dashing across
bullying slow fourth class hikers bikers
who dare to share the bridge walkway.
Puffing pumping its steam sweat smoke
straining through the shielding lattice
smogging choking foot folk
who snort its sulphur scented smuts.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 6:19 AM UTC
(On Moonlit Nights)
While others are busy jingle bell-ing
and Christmas tree-gazing,
i have wrapped myself, for
i am going back...
remembering anew
how it is to walk
under a star-laden Christmas sky
these tree-shrouded paths
leading to the sea...
alone and unafraid,
somehow, still hoping,
to feel your hand, holding mine...
Reliving once again
magical moments with thee,
silhouettes...of you and me.
This Christmas night...i walk
these paved shrouded paths.
i am desperately awaiting your presence,
for your body to be next to mine...
the blowing wind roars, and ends
as a soft sea breeze...
though it still stirs,
i feel a warm breath near my face...
my heart leaps.....then settles down
for, there's no one there when i turn to look...
a dream, you have become.
i see just a tall, bended shadow,
reaching down
to cover my shoulders
on this cold, cold night,
to caress my head,
cloaking me, shielding me.
this tree,
this silhouette,
will once again shelter me
on this, another moonlit night,
lonely and wasted,
for I am
without thee.
(October 13, 2013---6:09 AM)
Sally
Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayann
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC
I entered the room and there you were..
Sitting at a table with friends..
Your eyes dancing with laughter...
Your smile full of child like amusement...
I was instantly attracted to the ease with which you held your space in time...
Comfortable within your manliness..
Yet a little vulnerable within your beingness...
I felt the need to connect with you...
To share our ideas, experiences, desires and our passions...
As I allowed my mind to fantasize...I could feel you lying beside me..
Cradling my body, protecting and shielding me with your strength and wisdom...
Should I go and introduce myself?
Should I allow my fears and uncertainties keep me from allowing the.. per chance encounter?
Could this be love sitting across the room from me?
Or just an illusion...
Do I take a risk or let it pass out of my life...
The moment gone forever...
Taking a sip of wine..enjoying the flavor and sensation entering my body...I slowly rise..
Our eyes meet and we smile..
Excitement running through my veins...
and then..
I walk out the door
Oct 13, 2010
Oct 13, 2010 at 1:35 PM UTC
his hobbies include
invisible girls
bubble wrapped
shielding their eyes from the sun
up the side of his mountain
holding fast to the cable
and the eventual terror of drawing
paper moons
framed a bit too
insular
binocular
funicular
vermicular
these out of sightlines
opaque and cobwebbed
screening off
his ***** little secrets
Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 11:45 AM UTC
Too attached to
The memory of you
And your sunken dimples
That held up the happy curve of your lips
(And held up my world too),
The want in your voice
Coarse with loneliness and anguish,
Though evaporating when ******
Between us two
(My sweet words the answer to your sole prayer),
Your distant stare shielding
A wall of deep thoughts
Scared and shamed and lovingly true
**** as the ocean blue)—
I love you.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
Pat, pat, pat—a constant rhythm as the raindrops collide against her umbrella, shielding her like a knight from countless tiny foes. She goes about her day, a bouquet of vibrant flowers picked along her travels cradled in her arms, whispering sweet nothings to herself.
It’s the details she longs to capture and hold forever. She examines the delicate wet spot on a petal, magnifying each perfect imperfection—the subtle curves, the soft hues—because in that reflection, she sees herself, and there’s beauty in that too.
Oct 24, 2021
Oct 24, 2021 at 3:24 PM UTC
It was raining. It was cold. The sleeve of my shirt sticking to my skin, my flats wet and ***** from the mud and rain.
Suddenly, the rain stopped pouring down on me and a shadow loomed over me. I looked up, I saw him.
He was the one who shield me, rather than shielding himself. Held me so close, just so I wouldn't get wet. We laughed at how ridiculous we look as people stare at us. Cramped together under the small pink umbrella; our shoulders touching, our hands touched slightly.
If I knew what he had thought at that moment,
I wouldn't know what I'd do.
{ E.I }
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC
I go out to dinner with a near stranger
we sit on the same side of the booth and
I think about how you're the only one who
knows how much I hate that
I drink a drink with ***** and lime and
***** and it almost makes me feel like
I know who I am when I'm with someone else
I don't think of you often but last night I did
I remembered how your arms are the
only place where I am not self-conscious
I lie next to him on my balcony and
there are a lot of stars above us but
I'm the only one who notices
he is thinking about what I look like naked and
I'm counting how many hours of sleep
I will get if he leaves before 2
there is not an absence of feeling,
just a different kind than I'm used to
he touches my hand and I smile in
a way that doesn't feel forced
I spend a day with a near stranger and realize
there is so much he does not know about me,
so much he doesn't care to
like how I got my nose pierced at 14 or
the amount of time I spend in the mirror each morning
picking myself into something I can carry only semi-confidently
he only learns I can't ride a bike when he asks if I want to
he has no idea that my blonde is shielding a deep brown or
when I got the freckle above my lip or
the inch long scar underneath my chin
he doesn't care and that's okay
when he leaves we say I miss you but
in a different way than I'm used to
it is not a pain swelling to be morphined
nor is it a pulling from the gut but instead
it is the ever temporary desire to fill the excess lonely
we say I miss you and still mean it but
it is not the missing that a body feels for
a phantom limb
I am with him now and probably will be again but
moving on doesn't mean I don't miss you
it only means I'm trying not to
just because I'm all right doesn't mean
I don't wonder how you are
I can still be happy with the existence of a quiet ache
but yes I do
miss you,
I will until the day I can sleep without having to count sheep
I will miss you even if there are no stars in the sky to remind me
I don't think of you but last night I did
the moon was too bright and
I was the only one
who noticed
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
A fire's burning somewhere in the darkness.
I once sat in its light, but was drawn away
as swiftly as a shadow flees the sun.
I remember the flames dancing, burning,
turning dead wood into gold before my eyes,
the sparks jumping and zigzagging into the sky
like so many souls ascending to heaven,
wishing,
for once,
to be the stars they once gazed upon,
and wondering if maybe,
just maybe,
they could be remembered.
If they could shine upon the earth forever,
living as reflections in the eyes of those soon to join them.
Crackling into the night,
holding the darkness at bay just a little while longer,
shielding the hearts around it from their own shadows.
I don't know if it's still burning,
or if it has already submitted to the darkness,
as all fires do eventually.
But I will remember them, those flames,
burning as a last defiance to the darkness.
And to those souls in waiting,
I hope for you safe travel.
Oct 24, 2011
Oct 24, 2011 at 1:04 AM UTC
I could lock myself in my room.
Surrounded by my belongings,
By the mirrors that have seen my secrets.
I could cry and bleed for days without anyone asking why.
I could drink and smoke without suffering the consequences.
One lock to one room shielding me from the outside world.
Shielding me from the invisible flames of everyday life.
I could walk on my self-made clouds of smoke,
Streaming through my lungs and out of my mouth.
Filling my head with OK thoughts followed by whiskey,
Drowning her sorrows,
They say with an attitude.
Finding a place between realities standards and being ****** up.
I reply.
*Attention *****
Pain ******
Stoner.
Happiness-seeker.
Drama queen. Depressed.
Sad.
Suicidal.
Dead.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 8:23 AM UTC
The flower needs rest,
so winter tucks it beneath the earth,
letting it sleep until spring.
The sun needs rest,
so the clouds and rain embrace it,
shielding its warmth for another day.
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 6:26 AM UTC
Arid desert
shimmering heat haze
shielding eyes, dazzling rays
blazing sun beats down.
Mirage
Crowned with aureole gold
you shine
strength, beauty
Being divine
Mirage
In your smile
sunbeams dance
In your eyes
Entranced
Mirage
Golden chariot
steeds of fire
Son of Titans
Heat, Desire
Mirage
Illuminated days
together
Sun God
Burn in me forever
Mirage
22/01/19
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 6:28 PM UTC
Sitting in a bar.
A beer with perspiration.
Its raining outside.
Hear the shuffleboard shuffle.
Intoxicated poetics.
Sober state of mind.
Stools shrouded in mystery.
Double doors leading in.
Bartender’s creations. (chemical concoctions)
Saloon of slumlords and hipsters
Open mic night.
Hippie Howls.
Don’t worry we got this under control.
Malboro reds, cowboy killers.
Don’t spend you life wishing,
Spend it living.
Better yet, spend it drinking.
Liquid courage. (men becoming beasts)
Awkward rages.
The best is coming.
Shielding secret shame in this scene.
Hidden in a pint of pilsner.
Free thinkers in a haze of hops.
Lets get drunk.
Make shift graveyards on the walls.
Honoring the dead.
Rest in peace.
Nothing less, nothing more.
Old Heidelberg.
Before my time.
The stalls scrawled with graffiti.
For a good time call.
Scratched onto the stall.
“Spread love like butter on a hot bun”
Sherlock and Watson.
Bromance.
This is a bar of friends.
What is this bar?
Drunk off this atmosphere.
Window panes with neon signs.
Disillusioned.
Concealed.
Unfinished.
The moves fast and goes right by.
Springing forward without a shadow of a doubt.
Members of the Great Unwashed.
The signs of our time.
I think we’re going to split.
Can I get another drink?
One for the road.
Don’t cut me off quite yet.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 1:26 PM UTC
The pain rooted and stretched,
reaching for infinity as its branches spread.
The pain blinded my heat and soul,
expanding beyond the depth of my mind.
I gently shaped the fruits of the despair into words,
hanging them from my chest as wind chimes,
and spent my days among the comforting chiming.
The pain is now trapped behind a treacherous wall,
Shielding all the despair and all the precious fruits from my mind.
Safety fills the air and the pain no longer plagues me.
The rancid stench of protected silence spreads,
the wondrous wind chimes cease their music,
and I am left without a Muse.
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 5:33 AM UTC
Oh Mama...
How did you get through all the drama
That was brought into your life
Before you we're even a mother or a wife
Oh Mama...
How did you manage to handle the pain
No one could've made it through all that
Without going insane
Oh Mama...
How did you carry us on your back
As bomb carriers filled the sky
Shielding us from disaster
As the innocent ones die
Oh Mama...
How did you manage to survive all them wars
All those children that died
Five of them yours
Oh Mama...
How did you leave your life behind
To start over in a new country
Away from your own kind
Oh Mama...
How did you keep love in your heart
When life was at its worst
And regardless of what happened
You always put us first
Oh Mama...
How did you get past the ignorant ones
The ones who were blind to your scars
The ones who couldn't see
That you've made it so far
Oh Mama...
How will I ever repay you
It would take nine lifetimes
To simply say "Thank You".
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
The dread of consciousness fills me.
The numbness fades away
As I reach out for the space beside me.
The fire lights the blood
Illuminating it for all to see
No one will though.
I am alone again.
The blood pounds through my head
Beating itself against my skull
‘Out!’ It wails at me.
I cannot.
‘Alain…’
My voice cracks
Like the ancient creaks of a tomb.
Forever I am tormented.
Forever she will be out of reach.
‘No,’ the fire hisses at me.
‘No!’ It cries building itself up.
‘I cannot!’ I cry raising my arms
Shielding against the wall of blood and fire
I am lost.
cc2010
Oct 14, 2010
Oct 14, 2010 at 5:00 PM UTC