megan-zhao - Hello Poetry

megan-zhao

I don't know I should first consider myself a photographer or a poet. I actually want to be both, but perhaps I'm none of either, because destiny is beyond those. We use our feet to walk everyday, but the walk and the feet are only tools to help us reach somewhere, somewhere we can transcend time and find happiness—those are the purpose of my life.

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When the Sun is at its brightest It casts the harshest shadow Behind each gain, there must be a loss Each summit, a downhill So a skilled photographer should know When to take a rest or take a shot

Feb 27, 2016

Feb 27, 2016 at 1:06 AM UTC

A Photographer

When the Sun is at its brightest It casts the harshest shadow Behind each gain, there must be a loss Each summit, a downhill So a skilled photographer should know When to take a rest or take a shot

All is illusion— At this peripatetic pause Let's put off the world And indulge ourselves In an embellished dream Of perpetual ignorance

Feb 26, 2016

Feb 26, 2016 at 12:03 AM UTC

a peripatetic pause

All is illusion— At this peripatetic pause Let's put off the world And indulge ourselves In an embellished dream Of perpetual ignorance

between beau or foe fortune or fame zodiac or horoscope i picked cats

Feb 21, 2016

Feb 21, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC

i picked cats

between beau or foe fortune or fame zodiac or horoscope i picked cats

After the furnace was out Cold air comes in I sit here shivering thinking about Atlantic ocean waves and a woman who was there riding her water jet and smiling warmly at me

Feb 19, 2016

Feb 19, 2016 at 12:07 AM UTC

a smiling face

After the furnace was out Cold air comes in I sit here shivering thinking about Atlantic ocean waves and a woman who was there riding her water jet and smiling warmly at me

Standing still over there my young apple tree looked prideful in its first winter but its soft murmur I heard

Feb 16, 2016

Feb 16, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC

that i heard

Standing still over there my young apple tree looked prideful in its first winter but its soft murmur I heard

Imagine my pink tulips blooming in the snow perhaps, this morning it was real

Feb 16, 2016

Feb 16, 2016 at 10:55 AM UTC

it was real

Imagine my pink tulips blooming in the snow perhaps, this morning it was real

On Valentine's Day A girl's olfactory ability Is thoroughly tested With or without flowers

Feb 14, 2016

Feb 14, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC

Valentine's Day

On Valentine's Day A girl's olfactory ability Is thoroughly tested With or without flowers

Morning— Each person is trying to say: "I'm here." —in his or her own unique impetuous way. But please remember to leave your handprint on a wall and check on it 30,000 years later.

Feb 12, 2016

Feb 12, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC

Handprint

Morning— Each person is trying to say: "I'm here." —in his or her own unique impetuous way. But please remember to leave your handprint on a wall and check on it 30,000 years later.

I tasted fate in different flavors, The sourest I held the dearest. Dripping wounds in tangy shower, Life is but the sum of memories.

Feb 12, 2016

Feb 12, 2016 at 7:37 AM UTC

fate

I tasted fate in different flavors, The sourest I held the dearest. Dripping wounds in tangy shower, Life is but the sum of memories.

Random thoughts dropped in snow Could they become fertilizer after this winter O those sweet summer tomatoes I miss you all Here I'm standing in my garden waiting for you in this cold in the snow

Feb 10, 2016

Feb 10, 2016 at 11:06 PM UTC

Waiting

Random thoughts dropped in snow Could they become fertilizer after this winter O those sweet summer tomatoes I miss you all Here I'm standing in my garden waiting for you in this cold in the snow