I see the snow
covering all
like carpet woven
with a softly yarn
to keep all the memories warm
the sly silence
coats over the sorrow
yet your absence
still bites my soul
Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 7:09 AM UTC
in the green sea
I see hints of a city
where wind is the great giver
and the bugs are the only residents
now!
enter the void and leave your memories
to the clouds and the puffy flowers
let all bricks fall
-take a breath-
let all rails rust
-breath out-
let all be gone
to be alive again
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 1:31 PM UTC
I am standing under the punica;
its roots are bursting out of ground
and clothing the earth all around
its light scent is tempting
this punica must be magical indeed
I touch the body of the punica;
its roots are bursting out of my heart
and covering my chest all around
my soul is wide open, I flourish,
This punica must be me, indeed
My punicas are falling down
into the lands of striking roots,
bursting out of themselves,
covering the ground all around
my soul has ten arms divided into ten arms,
I must be the earth, indeed
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 3:50 PM UTC
shapeless uncertainty is always hanging in there
the poem wants to flow but I blow it all away
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 6:05 PM UTC
a red dried pepper
and a wormy cherry
a decomposed dead body
looks just like them-but not you
I am gazing at your
diamond eyes and fire hands
behind a glass
the glass will turn to marble
and you will turn to ashes
and the grief will softly whisper me
the charms of lunacy
finally, the flames will die
and I will sell the two diamonds in my hands
for wisdom
no, dad, it's not you
whose skin is cracked, decayed and bruised
it could be a box of cherries
or a bag of peppers
god, I miss you.
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
the wind is spiraling
the wind is spiraling
it is the rage
which has no object
the indignation
which cannot spread
is spiraling
the tempest is
scattering
the hell is
sparkling
under my skin
I am waiting for the thunder
I am waiting
to become the spiral
to shiver
and to sparkle
but the spiral is
withering within
and all my devils are
hymning to the wind
when will I learn
the hell
is me
and the devils
are mine
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 6:36 PM UTC
my dad died so gracious
he is dead
indeed
but I am not sure
if he was the one in that coffin
or it was his blood
that I saw on his silver bracelet
rust? it might be
without pain and without scars
and with a faceless shroud
he was elegant
indeed
but-dead?
so how come
a silver bracelet rust
and who was the one
in that coffin?
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 9:39 PM UTC