black silhouette vale sits my garden
face withered hallowed eyes laden
haunts my garden till the flowers grow barren
rips tears and cuts throats
mourns mountains of graves

i wonder if i could dig a hole
give a rest for her soul
may the moon lit up her Madole
the stars shine her face
the birds sing her lace

i wonder if we could run a talk
walk like friends
may her heart plays her music
her feet dance with joy
her hands reach for mine

i wonder if she leaves my garden
never comes back
may I mourn in joy
sleep in peace
for black silhouette vale sits my garden

i wonder if
i wonder if
i wonder if

A sudden poem


I have travelled long
Blessed by Gobi's new moon
Seen tall ship sail upside down
Yet, I found my way back home.

Head bowed
Eyes closed
Cellphone
Smart
Phone
Worship

It has all gone vapor
Through the chimney
Mixing with the clouds
Pixel perfect
Engineering effort

learn to look up again
See again
Eyes open

And so I slipped into the mirror;
finally after years of staring, I saw the ripple.

I crossed over into fantasy, a paradise, my personal wonderland.
I wonder where I'll land.

And down I go into the unknown,
Red string theories, space and time; time and space.
Running on the endless slipstream
And so I open my eyes and overcome the race.

I opened my eyes and to my surprise I stood before the garden;
I opened my eyes and to my surprise I stood before the Queen.
I opened my eyes and to my surprise; I was falling again.

Free fall into my dream,
Dance with me and by my queen;
This is my reality, grab my hand and walk through the mirror with me.

Single sneaker rolls down a road
As the dog barks at empty room corners
Limb shaking winds replace august heat
With an off key church hymn humming heart
And
Two toned makeup, matching stain on new---old shirt
Animal tested
Cheap
Incomplete
Like a José guzzle, airy gag
Shots of half assed smiles
Across an empty bar
Read half assed headlines
Bury corporate hatchets
In pocket or timepunch
Wish we stood for more

I sit here,
Nearly at the end of my wit's,
Don McLean is chattering on about how the quartet practiced in the park,
The sauce is 35 minutes from being complete,
A journey that started 5 hours and 25 minutes ago.
All because I wanted to try a recipe,
But I'd be lying if my taste buds didn't enjoy it.
Cooking is exhausting