Its better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.
A phrase with such sweet sentiment;
A phrase we are told in order to bolster the power of love,
The power of a feeling,
an emotion, that surges though,
that empowers man to do anything.
But this is a lie.
For all of love's great powers;
the greatest of all is to fill us,
to empower us, and to make us feel indomitable,
there is a price.
Behind this force of nature lies an evil toll to be paid to the ferryman.

When man finds love, a hole is filled deep within the *****.
An entirely previously un-felt chasm.
This newly found feeling poured in us, as if from a mighty waterfall
only to envelop us in an armor against the world,
provides us with the ultimate weakness.
The power to lose.
The power to feel the absence;
the void left empty as though carried off with a rush of wind.
An assault to the system from an unseen attacker.
Suddenly our coat is gone, and we are left in the cold.

Naked

Without cloth

Without shelter

Without respite from the frost that chills us to our core

The brightest light cast the darkest shadow, I can assure you of this.
It is better to have never loved at all, than to have loved and lost.

I miss you

I miss the stark moonlight that danced across my sheets
Reminding me of your
fingertips
bare strips of flickering silver light illuminating
my hallucinations
of your face in my dreams.
I recall wood smoke
drifting through the evergreens as you laugh
at my meandering soul
my searching hands
my wandering feet.
And I wonder, not for the last time
If the stiff conconctions my late night brain produced
could really substitute for a real life you.
flesh
blood*
bone
Something my empty hands could
Hold on to.

*I miss you

^  ^  ^
  ^   ^  ^   ^  ^
  ^ ^   ^^ ^ ^  ^
^. ^ ^^   ^ ^  ^
^  ^Diaspora ^  ^
^  ^^^  ^ ^ ^ ^  
^  ^   ^^^   ^   ^^^
  ^  ^^^  ^^   ^^^
        ^   ^


Tonight,
a jumble is taking place
in the small wilderness...outside my window
...cicadas...crickets...lizards...
all night creatures...even the trees
join in the dance.....to survive
they could never go against the swooshing rhythm
of the rushing kingly wind.

as i am tonight...lost in my own wilderness
i feel so limited...turning left to right...to and fro
as sparks of thoughts and images...come and go
scattered ***** bouncing here and there
from corners and walls of my room
now, they're here,
later, they'd disappear.

mind is a mess...bright ideas, scamper off
fleeing from their temple...their home
refusing to be captured...

simultaneously, some known sounds
the cries...the envisioned giggles and laughter
of familiar voices, are now hidden somewhere
have sought refuge some place else.
faces...names...smiles...words...good spirits,
one by one,
slowly, have gone...

...there is only the damp darkness
of a vacuum.....an emptiness...
created by an absence
of inspirations
of people who give inspirations....but, have left
some are about to leave
thank God for those who came back,
missing fellow poets...good friends...and their works
missing the placid waters
that once surrounded us

i miss reading...feeling the sweet music...the rhymes,
the free verse of good, wholesome friendships...
of kindred spirits in poetry
in poetry...where we all started...where, in one way
or another, we all have metamorphosed...
i believe, i know...our paths didn't cross for naught.

::: ours is a small world...existing within a bigger world :::
      ::::::::::::::::: there needn't be a diaspora ::::::::::::::::::
        ::::::::::::::::: i miss us ::::::::::::::::::
¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥


Sa­lly

Copyright March 11, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan