"sidewards" poems
*Before I thought of doing it
My neck cradles itself sidewards
A strange glimpse
Stood out with radiance
And I knew it was different*
*I catch myself looking at you from afar
Your eyes meet mine
Is it just coincidence
Or an accident that happens too often*?
*Our glances hold messages
Of undefined feelings
Words become fathomless
For our eyes manifest*.
*Your eyes wandered through the crowd
And mine roamed around
We both know
This is just an excuse, a distraction
Not to seem obvious...
Until they locked
And I swear I won't let this moment pass*
*Oh, your eyes
Inviting me to see
Bidding me to come closer
Wanting to let me know you deeper*.
*I'd look at them all day of course;
Because of all the eyes staring
I only care for yours*.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 8:38 AM UTC
Shuffling sidewards
Off he walks
Heavy black trenchcoat
Eyes on stalks
Custom trousers
Eight legs wide
Henry the Half-Crab
Woe betide
Awkward scrabbling
Can't hold keys
Narrow little doorway
Tangled knees
Toilet adjustments
Bean bag chairs
Henry the Half-Crab
No one cares
Can't be an astronaut
Never play guitar
Can't use a keyboard
Won't go far
Hiding from the fishermen
Far from shore
Henry the Half-Crab
Somewhat raw
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
Early morning now, at the veranda...
Doing people-watching,
Thinking...just thinking the hours away.
The calendar is on its final page...
In a matter of hours, it is set to be changed...
A new year is coming in shortly, and I am
Wondering about the days gone by...
I sit comfortably
And my thoughts are set free...
Almost sets me dreaming
With you, rocking...
My hands, sidewards dropping...
But i see a line of several pairs of shoes,
Different sizes, different uses...
Five pairs of shoes remind me,
Of days when a baby's cry echoed,
Made its voice known,
Heard in the still of the night,
Up to the hours of the wee morning.
To and fro we went,
Up, down, down and up...
Until the baby fell into a deep sleep, and
You and i, slowed, then stopped...
Over and over
We went through the very same routines,
The years stretched on as i counted,
It was four more, to be exact...
Then came the time when
There were just the two of us left,
Swaying to and fro, slowly, slowly,
Up, down, down and up...
Always slowly, never too fast.
No, i wasn't asleep,
Just recalling,
How we had patiently, gently,
Cared and cradled
Those five baby girls to sleep...
Of different ages, all grown ups now...
Up and about, no longer wanting
To be swayed to sleep again...
Now, like birds that leave their nests
In the morning,
To live their lives in the light of day
Then fly back home before dark, weary,
Owners of these pairs of shoes,
Lined in a row, all in varying hues...
We both worked hard through the years,
I think it's time we thought of ourselves...
I say, you rock me now an hour of nonstop rest,
Then let me "rock the boat" for a while,
Turn you upside down,
Caress your arms and feet
With a soft cotton cloth and some lotion,
Make you shine like before, and free you
From those grains of dirt embedded,
To sharpen your sturdy undercurves,
So we may both have fun once more...
Rock ourselves slowly, smoothly,
Swaying endlessly,
Enjoying, rocking
Our remaining days together...
Sally
Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
pretend not to notice
load sidewards glances
like bullets
the way the metal itches my skin
makes me feel like tin foil
alright, is that right?
this numbness makes it hard
to tell , the least
well alright
is that fine?
why do i ask?
queen of s and m
why do i ask if youre fine?
you were fine when we lived off mud
felt like we were the nineties.
quit your revenge plans babe,
your friends tell me about them
I'm always one step ahead.
I'm so sorry i couldn't beat you up
hard enough to stay my queen
serenity, i miss the way
you would love to hear of your death
why? my death wish
is to be your lover for life.
why? is it the pain i can see in your piercings
skin deep, and conversation pieces
you once asked me why i never ended it
knowing that you'll float away to other *******
show them the tattoo of my skull, on your back
drink and inject whatever you want for months
but come back to me as scared as ever
it makes me feel like your king.
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 7:24 AM UTC
The sun is hot this summer
Like it was last summer
It's too hot to play indoors
Let's don trunks and sandals
For our journey to Turtle Rock,
It's not too far a walk.
Wild carrots grow along hot asphalt
We're chewing Queen Anne's lace
The journey offers time to talk
We talk and walk at our own pace
I see Mosby Creek through the trees,
We're getting near the place
Cruise down the path
Rotten egg's always last!
We're barefoot before the first bend
Look out, leaves of three!
Poison oak let us be!
Lay down our towels
We're here my friend
Me first! Dibs! I call the rope swing!
I shout, jumping over that tranquil spot
Y'know the one, where you go over the creek,
Because of that awkward rock
I grab the rope, run round to the edge
And launch myself sidewards right off the ledge!
Ker-plunk! Time to swim,
Summer's here, life begins.
Apr 19, 2021
Apr 19, 2021 at 1:45 PM UTC
Heavy drops of tears,
Now crawl sidewards,
Towards her ailing ears,
Descending downwards,
As that ailing elderly mother,
Tries her very best to sleep,
Contained the tears she tries to keep,
To prevent those tears from leaking,
Remembering who they were,
Her own children them both,
Sent away to war in a land very far,
Two coffins with no more than a humble note of regret & praise for the two dead soldiers had come back.
The father had fainted after listening to this news,
After few months spent wasted in tears,
Truer could not have been his fears,
He could neither let the pain ease,
Nor could he make the repentance cease,
Of letting both the brothers follow their hearts,
He tried to make any sense if there was in war,
And pondering only over the same he died,
A repentant father he wrongly blamed himself,
But the boys' mother lives on with the memories,
Alone and lonely in her lonesome life,
Her senile smile sits under her now-crooked nose,
As she looks at old family albums through her glasses,
Tears drip down her aging lonely chin onto the happy family photograph.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 6:04 AM UTC
*You come creeping in
cut me down
You would rather call me lier
Than know the truth
Looking sidewards
When met by my truths you close your mind
Not wanting to know
I saw you
walking dusty roads to forget the meaning
fragmented lines of meaningless segments
haunted like a child abandoned to the wind
I will not turn into the hollow frame
I once was
You filled my soul
Made me fly
And yet
Where are you now
Memories hold
Sunshine
Which flickers through shadows
I so yearn for more than I have now
Please
Just please is all I have to say
Before tomorrow engolfs me once more*
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 7:39 PM UTC
i’ve never liked running.
there was always this pound
in my chest
as the dust and the breeze settles,
as the sweat slithers sidewards,
as the world around me comes to a
halt.
i’ve never liked running.
not when the destination is
nothing but an illusion
just to give me the satisfaction
that my feet lead me to somewhere in this oblivion.
i’ve never liked running.
my lungs were weak
(at least that’s what mom told me)
yet i latch onto your chase
i’ve never liked running
but for you: until the
soles of my shoes thin out,
the oxygen in my lungs run out.
the world around me blurs out.
for you:
i would run
and run
run run run run ruin
put i in run and now i’m looking at your face
wondering how did we end up
in this haste, this chase
so indulge me:
how do i pace
myself within this space
?
i’ve never liked running
because again, i fall
behind my own weak ̶h̶e̶a̶r̶t̶
May 14, 2023
May 14, 2023 at 10:49 AM UTC
I revisit a scene once passed
A scene that went by too fast
I unconsciously reach out
And then
Fall into a ditch of murky black.
The first fall, a fall vestigial
The second fall, a fall wistful
Wistful, for I understand
That fall was untasteful
A fall that was not down
But sidewards
Not into a shadow but
A curtain painted black
A curtain that could always
Be drawn back
That is
If you wanted to push past
The strength that you lack.
A fall is a fall
But not always a fall;
In this universe
Direction is relative,
Symptoms and disease
Are not equivalent,
However
It is up to you
To draw back the curtain.
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 11:02 PM UTC
spider-like
forwards backwards
backwards forwards
sidewards sidewards
sidewards again
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 6:14 AM UTC
Let me see your profile...
sleeping gently
upon my pillow.
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 3:32 PM UTC
Feel my head splitting sidewards
My 3am in full
A mind buzz all be ready
For a finger
Oh the thrill
I want the words to be so magical
Want the world
To stop
Be still
Shhhhh...
So let me be the silent
Let sleep go be my ****
All stop I'm weak
I'm fading fast
I want to swim
This air
And still ..
I want to ...
I want to be the norm
I want to be the lazy
I want to sleep for hours end
I want .....
I'm fed up with my eyes awake
The pain they see all hurts
All told I'm sparkled
Lights all quiet
The night
It is
It's curse
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
Flowers are pretty,
But gorgeous too ,
Flowers move in every way,
But which way is my question,
Forward, backwards or sidewards,
The smell of flowers does me a favour,
It freshens my mind making me think I'm saviour,
You see flowers have tricks of their own,
But we just never see.
I see flowers blooming
Red, white or even rainbow,
Hmm to me daffodils are the colour of honey
but then roses show love
But also white just shows the Pureness of a dove
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 5:05 PM UTC
London Bridge
railway station
was busy
as Lydia and Benny
walked in and sat
on one of the seats
on the platform
where a big black
steam train
was about to go off
grey and white steam
shushed from beneath
and from on top
of the engine
Benny was fascinated
by steam engines
he loved to watch
the power and sound
and smell of them
Lydia's thoughts
were on her home
and her parents rowing
and her big sister
snoring away
after a ***** night
(as her mother
called it)
and her father
coming home drunk
and singing
in the Square
so all could hear him
the train steamed off
slow at first
then fast and faster
shush shush
and a loud whistle
and it was off
Benny watched it go
and Lydia turned her head
and watched it too
do you think
my parents' rowing
will end by the time
I get home?
She said
expect so
Benny said
usually short lived
they'll be all lovely dovey
by the time you get home
she wasn't so sure
they were going at it
hammer and tongs
when she left
and she didn't say
where she was going
and she supposed
she'd get a telling off
for that too
let's get 2 glasses
of milk and biscuits
from the station cafe
Benny said
she looked worried
come on
he said
race you to the cafe
she looked at him
they will have stopped
by the time I'm home
won't they?
I don't like it
when they row
of course
Benny said
all will be fine
when we get back
she nodded her head
and they walked
to the cafe
on the station
and went in
the place was quiet packed
but Benny told her
to get table and sit down
and he'd get the stuff
so she sat at a table
by the window
and Benny queued up
behind a man
in a stripe black and white suit
who smelt of tobacco
Lydia imagined
her mum and dad
going at each other
her mother throwing
cups and saucers
and her dad trying
to get a word in sidewards
and her sister Gloria
snoozing in it all
smelling of *****
and a good night out
she looked over at Benny
in the queue
hands in his trouser pockets
head to one side
looking at the labels
of biscuits
in the glass window
of a cabinet
deciding which to buy
and she looking
all silent and shy.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 3:22 AM UTC
Craving creativity such as hers. Like how she strokes the tip of my imagination as i enter her thoughts, physically we portray....
A warm, rather untouched now touched, bent over, backwards, sidewards, inwards outwards no words... but screams of yes and moans of O.. no NO's but more that we know..
As she ***** my soul, i lick her funky emotions. Piercing all the way up into her mind so she can feel what im thinking.. my inner beast met with her inner peace and romance in chaos is born.
As the chaos grows, so do the feelings, an innate yet unflourished scandle that leaves bodies sweating and eyes fixed. An affair of love from one-night standing now some whathabitual. For she is my habitual lover.
Thousands of miles apart in my summer where I'm most cold, yet our chaotic affair ignites again in winter..
Habitual, ****** infectious, scandalous, raw... an untamed and uncut
Midnight romance.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 11:14 AM UTC
I knock
on Hannah's
parent's door,
rain spitting down,
the morning air fresh
and lung biting.
Mrs Scot opens
the door:
O it's ye,
she says,
eyebrows rising,
eyes peering at me
hawk-like.
I've come
to see Hannah,
I say.
Ah didne hink
ye came tae
see me,
she says,
moving back
to allow me
to pass by.
I pass her by
like a mouse
passing a cat,
my eyes sidewards
gazing at her,
and moving past
as quick
as I can.
She closes
the door
and calls:
th' boy's haur,
gie it ay scratcher.
She indicates I go
into the lounge,
I do and sit down.
HANNAH!
She bellows.
She goes off
to the kitchen,
and I look around
the room.
Just coming,
won't be long,
Hannah says
from her bedroom.
Her mother says
something
incomprehensible,
and then all is quiet,
except for the ticking
of a clock.
The curtains
are drawn back
allowing light
to enter the room
(providing
it has wiped its
feet first
bringing
Dylan Thomas
to mind).
The picture
of a kilted man
stares at me.
He has big eyebrows
like dark caterpillars.
On the mantelshelf
is a photograph
of Hannah
and her parents
and her brother
who is away.
The bedroom doors opens
and Hannah appears.
Hello,
she says,
I overslept,
just going
for a wash,
and she is gone.
Dornt be lang,
her mother says.
Be quick
as Ah can,
Hannah calls back.
Water runs,
splash, splash.
She's a lazy huir,
her mother says,
coming into
the lounge,
holding a cup
and saucer of tea
for me,
puts it down,
smiles
the thinnest
lip smile,
then goes again.
Outside,
as I look through
the window,
is heavy rain.
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 3:27 AM UTC
Brian having done
rolls over to his side
of the bed
and breathes out
as if he had
little breath left
to survive on
Nuala lies there
feeling violated
undone
hot sweat
between her thighs
and damp and sticky
and breathing deeply
wonders if Una
heard the noise
of him and the bed
against the wall
and what she thought
if she heard
and wishes it
had been Una
and not him
not him but her Una
them making love
Una's hands
on her
holding and bringing
her to a new height
and fresher love
and kind of heaven
how was it for you?
Brian says
exhaling breath
gazing sidewards at her
in the semi-dark
she looks towards him
and smiles a false smile
a mask of gratitude
best ever
she lies
making it sound
as genuine as she can
he kisses her lips
she feels his lips
shuts her eyes
wanting it to be
Una's lips
not his
her soft thin lips
not his thick lips
he turns back
and lies on his back
and gazes at the ceiling
where light
from the street
plays there
Nuala sees
behind her eyes
Una there
her body so close
the vibration of her body
oozing heat towards her
and pretends it is Una
is her so near
but knows it isn't
it's Brian breathing deep
taking an
after pleasure rest
not good at all
she muses
not the best.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 8:18 AM UTC
the rain came
down in patches,
sidewards and
misshapen
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC