The one thing I want the most
is to un-love you
yet the one thing I'm terrified of
is that gingerly, in degrees
then all of a sudden

all of a sudden

everything will evanesce
like the slanting rain
the hearts i draw
on fogged-up glass
faint pencil lines
on whitewashed stairs
crushed paper stars
i used to fold, alone,
with you

and i will be left
with the frightful emptiness
and i will be left
to fight my dependency on you
and i will be left

(we're locking eyes today and I have something to tell you)

*Don't Leave Me

~~
Then, if ever, is the red color grows fade
The petals of red roses drop
If the birds don't sing any songs
And even a butterfly doesn't
Play on a purple flower

If the mistake happens in the rain
You 'll not cry
You can't be afraid of thunder
They will cleanse you

And when I am gone
Forgive me, but the melody in the air
You will come, playing in the garden,
Dance with the lost grasshoppers

Any yellow day when red flamboyant will be bloomed
Will have to take off your colorful sunglasses
At the very noon will be floated on the Cuckoo's love song
Again and Again it will prove your arrival,

O' Spring

You'll be the very white sky after rain
Will bloom red hibiscus
On that gilded day  
Red flamboyant 'll be loved with yellow flamboyant

Patched up with melody and words
Will be made new Songs,
New Poetry,
With the yellow flowers tune

Then again,
You 'll not  sing a song of despair,
Not even a song of hiatus,
Will sing the Songs of Joy,
Stir in the way of dreams,
Mating

Back to again and again
I 'll come back to you
Both 'll make a love  
For the creation of a new life
~~

It’s 3 A.M. England time
I’m laying in bed with your scent on my sheets
if I concentrate just right
I swear I can hear your heartbeat.
Your millions of miles away
I wish I could hear your voice
but heaven doesn’t have a phone
only angels to console you when you cry.
I miss the little things you used to do
like brushing your teeth and combing your hair
putting extra sugar in your coffee
while playing records near the rocking chair.
Sleeping without you is the hardest
I have dreams that your right next to me
then I wake up calling for you
only to realize it was a memory.
I wish you were here to see the snow
so we can make love with the windows wide open,
to write songs with your guitar
then drive through town as we sing them.
To lean on your shoulder and hold your hand in mine
is the thing I miss the most
I think of that as I snuggle under our blankets
as I hold your pillow close.

Your smile* is medication to me
Your story is inspiration to me
Your body is an addiction to me
Your words are hallucinations to me

Your love was what saved me
Your eyes were what enslaved me
Your mind was what craved me
Your tears were what caved me

Your looks are what will conceal me
Your hatred is what will chill me
Your anger is what will fill me
Your departure is what will **** **me

i don't do poetry
because i want to look intellectual
well-read
intelligent, thoughtful
or impress
people by my words
or take anyone's attention
i do poetry
because i am often alone
left alone
all and out
on my own
to submerse within my own
i crave for existences
no one appears
all stay distant
like a thoughtful absence
i have no harm
confessing in need
words are too deaf to make any sound
other too busy listening to
other songs
of other people
they must be harmonious
cheerful and dedicated
mines too glum
too sad
as i refused to give up
nor to be brainstormed
i go on my own
so i live like this
yet poetry comes to me
like a bereaved friend
it's with me when i sleep
it's there when i laugh
even though
i try to avoid of it's comings and goings
poetry's intensity sits in my heart
like a fog in early morning
but i am not sure
what to do with it
how to keep it
will this stay like an adjourned bond
poetry exists through me
like a thread in fabric
cutting every little piece within me
and i hear
'what a thoughtful presence'