Where be woman man?
who kneels to rivers, lakes, and
drinks their reflection.
Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 1:07 AM UTC
In a field of sand the poppies blow;
Over pits touched by ocean flow;
abaft a shade, hidden before some
shut-eye sun; And after a leveled shore,
Some petals show like crows on corpse.
And the moon, Oh how it stares down at us:
Like a half cut, half fallen birch tree.
We cry to such birch foliage:
That thirst these warm tears from us.
Darling, do you see? How the sea
is envy; it changes from blue to me;
plodding over pounded rocks;
palm to sole, fingers through toes;
Swim back to a reflection of me--
There the poppies follow me.
Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 6:25 PM UTC
Hunger to quell:
all fill—fell into ocean floor—
there lions eat themselves.
Feb 6, 2021
Feb 6, 2021 at 7:40 PM UTC
Indigo midnight, shooting stars
and a wish to have a wish.
As desiring as darling, Mary Grace.
Only to wake to yesterday's anguish.
For even Robert Frost
did not see this road.
t'was like an encounter with Eurydice
taken away upon sight.
For the wish was seized as t'was granted.
So the old sky and his throbin' want,
sat him through star-free midnight.
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 12:05 PM UTC
A year away January twen'y-twenty.
The people of december
had changed their surnames.
Mr. and Mrs. Deceased.
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 8:49 AM UTC
A total rest from habit
and common emotion.
Like house arrest, but
no handcuffs nor strangers.
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 7:54 AM UTC
Nothing but a big old spat;
As to who's a cat to a tree;
when a hair needs a cut;
why a shirt fits two;
how a dead flower lives, and
what more can two do?
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 11:22 AM UTC
I am not english,
but i chose to write english.
English for my blood.
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 10:39 AM UTC
At a glance, not oneself was visible,
unaware of branches' stretch
but a hint, a shadow: moving foliages
,and leaves of september.
Till the chasm fronting it, submit
itself to summer rain and midnight cry.
At a glance, not oneself was visible:
Only a fissure beneath the cumulonimbus
covering it with lapiz tears, three meters
deep, and not oneself invisible.
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 10:14 AM UTC
I remember when i too became foreign
far away from the hometown
that of: warm mountain-air,
sunday vendor chatter,
morning capitol walks,
And a sense of security
made felt by local robbers.
Gone at a step out the hometown.
I remember when i too became foreign
loitering unnamed lands, homesick
with lingering feelings, homesick.
Through and through the cold air
Missing my own home, and sick
of this haunting thought
whereas my body is new to such soil
And uneasy foreign-then-local conversation.
To an extent that in my own house,
I am sick and foreign.
I remember when i too became foreign
speaking the local tongue, and moving
accordingly to local norms, knowing
names: neighbors, nearby restaurants,
employers, employees, and officemates.
Being never really accustomed to the new
and holding on to such defining truth
that i am my own hometown.
Jan 15, 2021
Jan 15, 2021 at 11:19 PM UTC