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10.9k · Jun 2018
Help me love my humility
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jun 2018
You’re not the unreachable stars
You’re not the almighty sun
You are every blade of grass
You are every deer in the forest
You are every ripple in the pond

But I
I am the restless moonchild
Roaming senselessly through
The starless sky

But I
I am the moon that wakes
Among slumbering hours
And sleeps through life

But I would rather be the dust
That buries your loneliness
But I would rather be the dews
That wash away your sorrow

Your gift for me is my love for my humility
Your happiness for me is my willingness
To be your eternal shadow and not just
The momentary sunshine

You’re not the sky high above all
You’re not the gale that takes all
You’re the dove I wish to caress
You’re the untouchable dandelion

And I
I am the dark clouds above all fleeing life
The inescapable starless night

And I
I am the gale wind that leaves nothing behind
That goes away silently
When there’s no hope left to be find

And I would rather be the catkins
That hold on to your dreams in flight
And I would rather be the honeybees
That take away your bitterness, despair and fright

Please show me how to love my humility
Please bring back my happiness, my willingness
To be your eternal shadow and not just
Momentary sunshine

For my love for you is not above all,
            But within every breath of life.
Written Thursday June 7th, 2018: I wrote it in Chinese first, and then translated it.
A few elements are from my earlier poems:
eg. Moonchild
8.6k · Sep 2018
Your Ghost in My Shell
Yue Wang Yitkbel Sep 2018
There is a ghost in your voice
Haunting me through the silence

Through every droplet of memory
Dotting my otherwise starless night

I tried to gather them
With my words, my fear, my soul
And yet they remain forever bond
To a place I cannot reach
A being I cannot see
And a love I can never hear

Your flowering existence sheds invisible petals
I seem to be able to find
Yet, I'm ever uncertain
All these pieces of your soul
Did you left them for me to find
A breadcrumb trail leading only
To a chance in the future
To an uncertain promise
Or did I just stole the traces
Of your existence you left for the universe
Claiming them as something I could own

Should I keep them or scatter them

Or are they even yours
Could it be that they are the pieces of my soul
Still clinging on to you
That you're finally shedding away
To be complete on your own

What could I do
Standing in pieces
Holding someone's soul
That may or may not be my own
If they weren't
I'd still be missing all the chunks I've given to you
If they were
I'd still be empty
I'm forever hollow without you
3.1k · May 2020
Summer Child
Yue Wang Yitkbel May 2020
Verse 1:

Love like a summer child

Bask in the sun of your reverie

Hear the bluebirds perking wild  

Place your faith in the serendipity

Gone it may be, the passerby daffodils

But my love just bloomed in the dale

Marigold Marigold

Have you been sent to love me well?


Love this summer child

Wayward, unkempt and wild

I am the dreamer and the dreamed

Sprung from the last chimes of bluebells


Love free

Love wild

Love is gentle like Lily of the Nile

Love is the summer wine mild

Love is the marigold caressing me

Like you are always

Like you are now

The marigold and the summer child

The marigold and the summer child

The marigold

The summer child

The summer child

Unkempt and wild


Alas the summer will always leave

As leaves fall in the young boy’s dream

To kiss the earth and dust of eternity

And leave only impermanence to me

Verse 2:

Love is always for the beguiled

But never trust your memories

Clever the disguises of bluebells

They were not chimes but knells

Softly the sunflowers gaze fell

And my love withered and paled

Marigold Marigold

Your love is the fool’s gold now


Grief my summer child

Into the swamp you fell

I was the dreamer and the dreamed

It’s time to wake, wilt, and wither now


Love escapes

Love wilts

Love is the flower morning glory

Love’s in the blue hydrangea dwells

Love in the marigold’s fiery envy melts

Like you were never

But you are now

The marigold and the summer child

The marigold and the summer child

The marigold

The summer child

The summer child

Withers and wilts


Summer will always leave

Summer will always leave

Summer will always leave

As summer turns to autumn leaves
Summer Child

Lyrics by: Yitkbel

14:51 October 20, 2019
2.8k · Dec 2019
The Timeless Dream of Home
Yue Wang Yitkbel Dec 2019
The Young Poet’s Dreams:

I often dream of the ocean
Dream of the sea
I've been waking up to a longing
Longing for the land
The land of my birth
South of the Clouds
North of the sea
Not bordering either
But close and very near
To the heavens and the world

Overlooked by progress
But not by history
Nature, and life
I was ungrateful of having fallen behind
Though I was still deeply moved
By the primitive nature and land
Still fully alive,
Green as the winding rivers
Firm as its sheltering boulders
This must be a proximity to
The truth I seek
The timelessness I seek

Chorus of Epiphany:

There must be Truth
In the unchanged and unchanging
Evergreen, and restlessly flowing
Rituals and rites kept alive
Thousands of years despite
Time, and the forsaken everything

Were the Truth and the eternal
Timeless, and the Faraway
Always so close
To home?

The Eternalist Dream:

Is this the source and origin of
My nightly and whimsical nautical dreams
The fact that I was born near the land
Of ancient and now lost shallow seas

Am I called by the truth, unchanged
In giant columns of limestone
Still marked by waves from near-eon ago
Though we can no longer see them
In Eternalism, the ocean still wavers
As truly as my footprints curved by
The flow of all objects of time and space
As truly as the countless unseeable me
Navigating through life and existence
Bearing all that is forever timeless
Unacknowledged for it is unseen
Through each step taken and each
Subtle yet unmistakable movement
Create a new and continuous ‘to be’
With all of me floating along the unseen

Fully alive and eternal shallow sea

Chorus of Epiphany:

There must be Truth
In the unchanged and unchanging
Evergreen, and restlessly flowing
Rituals and rites kept alive
Thousands of years despite
Time, and the forsaken everything

Were the Truth and the eternal
Timeless, and the Faraway
Always so close
To home?

The Mythical Dream:

It lives on in familiar words and songs
And not just silently carved in stones
To be felt by the more sentient and aware
And ignored by those occupied by more
Present and timely tangible indulgences
Guided by the elders' tales and melodies
The distant dream of purer lives and love
Manifests in this child's untamed heart
Yet searching for a world different to
This mundane and subdued reality
Each stone shadowed with the spirit
Suggestive of a more petrified golem
Granted by even a hint of heads and torsos
Were given a name from myths not stranger
To a young soul lured by the allure of fables
And so an Eastern Stone metamorphosis
Of the Yi Legend of Ashima who turned into
The famed stone still standing proudly
Among the stone forest after being forbidden
A loyal union with her most unbetraying love
Burst into life full of every sung voice and color
Leading the way for the lithic pilgrimage
Of the mythical monk of the "Journey to the West"
They too live on unchanged and unchanging
Through every weathered stone yet standing

Through every named word kept repeating
Through every ancient myth ever recalling
Kept alive and from disappearing
In every child’s

Chorus of Epiphany:

There must be Truth
In the unchanged and unchanging
Evergreen, and restlessly flowing
Rituals and rites kept alive
Thousands of years despite
Time, and the forsaken everything

Were the Truth and the eternal
Timeless, and the Faraway
Always so close
To home?

The Human Dream:

Ancient tongues often remain unwritten
And even those like the pictographic Dongba
Though befriending my childlike curiosity
Still remain stranger to my understanding
So only vaguely am I acquainted with
The varied rites, rituals, celebrations
Of the people keeping alive the unchanged
Words, traditions, dresses, and mythology
Ever one with nature, the elements, universal
Some dance in the darkness with torches
Others duel playfully with water under tropic sun
Like my childhood dreams of a too optimistic world
Their dresses and symbols, from ox to peacocks
Remain ever hopeful, and full of living colors
Truly, what comprehension do I really need?
When the earth’s heart beats in unison with
Their thundering dance sung with bare feet
When they hand you horns of sweet rice wine
Inviting you to a far more intoxicating dream
You only need to understand and accept
What you can evidently feel and surely see
The unchanging and unchangeable joy
So pure and kind, that will forever,
Perhaps thankfully overlooked by progress,
Timelessly remain.

Chorus of Epiphany:

There must be Truth
In the unchanged and unchanging
Evergreen, and restlessly flowing
Rituals and rites kept alive
Thousands of years despite
Time, and the forsaken everything

Were the Truth and the eternal
Timeless, and the Faraway
Always so close
To home?


It must be,
For in my nautical
Waking and asleep
Eternalist, Mythic, Human Dreams

It calls restlessly to me
From my birth, through its continuation
I’ve risen and gazed upon the violently
Violet obscure and cloudy night sky
And felt a great fear crushing down
Upon this child of an ever searching soul

I was afraid,
I will never KNOW
And know what,
I did not know

I have felt something stirring
Yet, all greatness seemed
Unreachable, unseeable
Undreamable like the hidden stars

I loved the winding rivers between earthen boulders
I loved the rainforest sacred as its wild elephants
I love the stalagmites caves and the dormant volcanoes

Yet, always longing for an unfamiliar faraway
More moved by progress and not overlooked
I was never aware, until now
The truth timeless and unchanging
Though now slow uncovering
That was always
The Timeless Dream of Home
By: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
Sunday, November 24, 2019
5:53 PM
2.6k · Dec 2017
The Tragic Tribe
Yue Wang Yitkbel Dec 2017

Scene 1

Scene: A fleet of small boats on a open sea, carrying a flock of poets, actors, and musicians. They row into the distance, searching for land.


Oh, the horror, the horror! The deadly locked eyes, the motionless limbs, the gray lips, telling me it is the end, no more, horror or else. I felt it too, at moments, though something else; what I felt was the sudden fear of death, what might come afterward, and the loneliness of this solitary journey. I had to escape.


Yes, those lost half-lives of inevitable and unrecoverable tragedy, the guilt, unable to close in, and so moving away from the sorrow. Turning eyes away from the horror, no, get away from them entirely, let none of them escape with us. The tragedy, the grotesque demons.


Yes, let them not chase us toward the end of the vast and endless voyage, and if we die so, let it be quick.


Quick, by the thundering strike of heavenly signs, let us be at peace.


Oh, no more, no more. Leave those thoughts behind, send them to exile as we have been for our refusal of "high tragedy."


So, it shall-(The Fool stands up, squinting to the distance.) Look! Is that a patch of dry land?


Yes, our salvation of isolation, our comedic Garden of Eden!(A roar of cheers from all, though each voice distinct on its own.)

Scene 2

The troop have landed on the unnamed island.


Here we shall be settled.


What a handsome little place!


Then we shall make it our home!


Home, yes, but home of what? A wild circus of cowards?


No, cowards of tragedies but advocate of joy, happiness, and comedy.


Comedy! We are the Comedians!


Very well, so we are.


Yes, laughter and happiness.


We shall not only avoid tears, anguish, and sorrow, we shall make them crimes of criminals, we shall uphold only the Highest Order of Comedy!(In the distance, a ship carrying the mimes arrives.)


Oh, look, so the mutes are here as well.


(To the mimes as they arrive.)

Wipe your black tears off your faces! Leave only the red smiles, we are a tribe of comedy not tragedy. (They do as they have been told.) There, better.


Ah, here comes the musicians. (A band of cheerful flute, drums, and violin players arrived.)


(To the Band)

Yes, very well, you shall never again play any sad little tune and lure me to anger!


Be gentle, Argorn, for only peace shall visit you.


Yes, criminal, anguish, and sorrow, are the horror! They are criminal, criminal!

The band

We promise you only tunes of celebration will be heard on this lovely paradise!


Very well.

Scene 3

The band plays a cheerful little song while the mimes dances silent to the music. The actors and poets are reading poems of merry endings.


Oh, her tears, like blossom petals, have fallen and are gone forever.


The sun approves of our sanctum! Look, how the minions of clouds take flee!


Yes, presently they do.


Only when morrow comes, shall we be certain of our well-being.




Keep calm, keep calm.


Yes, settle, joy will only come when you are unaware of its flaws and when you take no notice of the hidden misery.


No! Tragedy is horror, tragedy is criminal, it should only be fought, contained and send to exile.

Scene 4

The cheerful tune of the band have slowed with weary into a lingering sad tune, the mime have slowed their dance, and the drawn smiles drips down into a frown.

Argorn nails a notice to a tree. It says, Laws of Comedians.


Stand up, you slothful infidels! You have once again turned what could have been joyous and merry into despair!

NORTHWORTH and Virginia

Argorn, you have burdened and slaved them with works of oppression, they are not happy!

The band and the Mimes

Yes, we beg you. Please let us rest, or the music will only be sadder.


No! Rest and what? Allow tragedy to intrude! No, be alarmed, be on guard. We will battle sorrow to the end.


Argorn, only you are the advocate of pain and tragedy!!! You are fighting yourself!




I dare say, you are what drowns us with slaving pain!

(Argorn advance toward The Fool with a hammer, and knocks him dead.)


No, he is dead! Argorn have slain Fool.


Say more, and death or exile awaits you!


(In fear and deviance.)

No, we will send ourselves to exile.


And the music!

(The band and mimes quickens their pace, the music and dance does not sound joyful however, but in a rushed mess, it rings of fear. )

Scene 5

The Band and Mimes are lying on the ground, being worked to death by extreme exhaustion trying to bring joy and music for Argorn.


Play! Your fools! Why have you all stopped!

(Argorn rushes to where the bodies lay, and stops.)

Oh, are you dead already? Someone else, come and take their place! Don't let the little tune expire!


(In tears.)

No, I rather be dead to be mocked by your horror! You are a monster!


How dare you cry?

(Argorn kills Katty with the hammer.)

What do you say Benedict, keep the joy alive?


No, you fool, what do you say is the most horrendous of a tragedy?


Death, I fear.


Then, who is most foul of a tragedy?


The tyrant of a villain, champion of bloodshed, and one without conscience.


Then, please, find your conscience, and see around you, the blood, and decaying bodies. What have you done?


NO! NO! I killed them for comedy!


Yet, what you brought is tyranny, bloodshed, and death.


Do you mean I am the villain? Then, please, in the Law of Comedian, execute my execution.


No, I shall only take my exile now, and leave.


Then, I shall bring peace to this inferno once and for all. (Argorn kills himself, and falls. )

Yue Wang Yitkbel Feb 2019
Say if all events:
'Past, present, future'
All possible occurrence
Chosen and averted
Are already on the 'map'
Of spacetime
(Interpreted from Relativity, Einstein)

Like infinite numbers of
Vacation spots

Time is merely
Our conscious measurement
Of indivisible increments
Of the ever-present
(St. Augustine)

A record of travelling

And if our fourth dimension of time
Is our one dimensional consciousness
Where we can only travel from
Event to event
Dot to dot
In seemingly constant speed
And one direction

As if a railway passenger

In one of the higher dimensions of time and consciousness
Though unfathomable and would seem omnipresent and eternal yet timeless
To us dots in a three dimensional flatlands

As the wayward of them
Had stumbled or spilled
Into our dreams

We would finally be able to
Run wild and free
Greet our past and future
Embrace familiar friends and strangers
In the wildlands
Of a higher dream

And we would not be
Arriving at a dimension of
Love and intuition

But we would inherently
Be beings of love
And intuition

Though we only seldomly
Physically feel them
And never see them

They're part of us
Only visible
Only fathomable
In higher dimension
2.4k · Aug 2018
I Love through My Dreams
Yue Wang Yitkbel Aug 2018
I am terribly near sighted
Consciously and subconsciously
I see not what I have saw
I hear not what I have heard
In fact most of the time,
I don’t even feel
What I should have felt

But the mirror of life
It keeps a record of every little thing
And I relive in my dreams
All that I have missed

And much much more:

All I ever need
Is just a little hint of life:

Your lovely little smile
I failed to respond to during the day
Would haunt me
With what would seem like
A whole lifetime of sweet champagne
Kisses of cherries and grapes
With a scent of longing that
Fills me to the core with
Twinges that burst throughout
My entire being
Shining brightly from
Every single particle of my

The little chirps and calls of crickets
That alternate between the oblivious
Moon upon a bed of restless stars
And the wizened sun
Would always take me to a land
Unlived, untouched, unruined
A vast nonexistence
A vast ruin full of life
Where I have never been so alone
Yet so fulfilled, so joyful, and so


The dreamless gale that
Would raise me up to mountains
From which I can finally gaze down
With sure and confident eyes
Upon the whole of life
See, sense, and feel
Every scenery and every being
With the purest of colours
Rowing down the crimson rivers
In a canary boat caressed by
A forest of ocean blue sequoias
Blanketed with a soup of
Violet stars
Into the heart of the universe

Where everything that have lived
Or could have lived
Never went away

Where nothing is ever gone
But just lost
So momentarily
Like a wandering child
Let out into the world
Seemingly defenselessly
Yet, perfectly safe
Under the hidden watch of
The mother

Where everything I love
Love me just as much
And so much more

Where I am never just me
But a child
A poet
A painter
A musician
An ancient pilgrim

Where I can fall into stars
And float up to the edge
Of the sky
Swim in the air without my feet
Ever touching the ground

Where I am finally
Held by you
The one person
I love most unyieldingly
In a death grip of never letting go.
I Love you through My Dreams
Jan 27, 2018, 6:15 PM
By: Yue Yitkbel ****

Used to be a personal favorite so I wanted to publish it, but since I haven't heard back from anyone, and I don't like it as much as anymore  I'll just post them.

(I wish I can pin posts here:
I think these are better poems of mine:
Yue Wang Yitkbel Aug 2018
I have returned
To the land of the living
After all life have perished
To see all traces of existence
Time and space, gravity and love
Without the restriction of our limited vision
To see the imprints of our touch and impressions
Laid out in front of me in its infinite and eternal presence
Every interaction, attraction, mutual and unrequited
Left its mark, like the trails of a snail
Now visible to me in perfect clarity

I could have ran to the beginning
And walked through every moment to the end
Seen life for what it truly was for all creations

Yet, all I wanted
Coming back at the end of time
When time cease to exist
When every being, every moment
Will never again cease to exist or change
Was to find that thread
Between us
And see whether it was connected
At the very moment of sight
When I saw you for the very first time
And ever since
Tugged and pulled
At every hint of longing
Transforming me with sculpting pain and tears
And tore away my fears

And see that it was never just my hopeful Imaginations and creations of the mind
That the threads of every twinge
Every pull of my soul
Had been there
Always there
Still there
True and real
Between every you and me
I have been reading Lovecraft recently to inspire me and pull me back from a wordless abyss.

Inspired by Lovecraft, among others.
1.9k · Jul 2018
Time, My Life­ Long Friend
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jul 2018
I found him when I was born, and
Since, we’ve become friends.
He’s always around, but
I don't usually think of his existence as profound.
He is playful too.
Or you can say that he, like all of us, has an aggressive soul:
When I’m bored, he sleeps without sound.
When I’m joyful, he makes me shorten the song.
When I tell him to run,
He just shuffles along.
When I want him to wait,
Only seconds is he gone.
I thought it was just his nature,
Nothing wrong.
But one day,
I realize,
His trick for was for my slow death
While he, fed on my flesh, lives forever long.
Time, a Life­ Long Friend
Yue ****, October 16, 2009
In my highschool days, I've written under the name SnowinJuly.
I wrote this in my senior year of high school.
Yue Wang Yitkbel Nov 2019

It seems that there are no more
Unreachable dreams
It happens that in this world
There can be no real peace          

When blood and tears still bleed
For those buried under the rubble of war
And unfulfilled needs
How many of us despair in the ennui
Of unexplained emptiness, of gluttony          
Of materialism and wants

Mankind must grow with upward gazes
As the sunflower must face the sun              
But when our desires are so easily reached
And when the time has become senile, and forgettable
What happens to us ordinary people?  
Swept away and obscured by Reality and the gunsmoke?
Then, silenced?

But I,
I must sing
Must sing in the desolation
In the silence
I sing
Forget me if you please,
Mock me if you please
“Chasing meaningless dreams”
“Reality isn’t idealistic like your poetry”


what songs and chants, after a millennium still sing
what colours and paints, after centuries
Still brightly remains
Imagine if there are no words and Babylon
Is only recalled in the ruins’ dreams

I must fearlessly sing,
Fearlessly sing,
With every atom of my soul and being
With nothing, like a beggar to the kings,
But my love
Wild and free

Save the world in my paintings
Shine hope from my poetry
When my flesh is buried by the fleeting
When my soul ascends into the everlasting
My thoughts, my songs, will still be echoing
Within every heart like me,
A dream                


Black smoke fills the red battlefield
Gray fogs and clouds banishing all light
All cries and outbursts, quickly dissipating
I still sing, within the solitude, brightly sing

The gargantuan Oak Tree breathing in the desolation
Its crowns are still hidden above the clouds,
Above all beings
Though, most of its leaves, have already left
For that place
We cannot yet be

The sun slowly descends
Bidding farewell to the moon waning  
Above the light-polluted plain
Wounded by the over-brightness
Of materials and beings
None can find any guiding stars
The hungry and lost dream of flying
The full and peaceful suffer in ennui

But I,
I must sing
Must sing in the desolation
In the silence
I sing
Forget me if you please,
Mock me if you please
“Chasing meaningless dreams”
“Reality isn’t idealistic like your poetry”


I must fearlessly sing,
Fearlessly sing,
With every atom of my soul and being
With nothing, like a beggar to the kings,
But my love
Wild and free

Save the world in my paintings
Shine hope from my poetry
When my flesh is buried by the fleeting
When my soul ascends into the everlasting
My thoughts, my songs, will still be echoing
Within every heart like me,
From a


All beings are occupied with walking
Through the hectic roads                    
But I am still trembling, climbing
The bough of this abandoned Oak Tree
Way above, the light, real, mirage or delusion?
Resisting my hesitation
I still keep my faith steady and unwavering
Though only the silence loudly sings
With a few leaves of mockery and laughter
Calling me absurd
Calling me silly
I still sing, I still scream
Dazed with my humility

But I,
I must sing
Must sing in the desolation
In the silence
I sing
Forget me if you please,
Mock me if you please
“Chasing meaningless dreams”
“Reality isn’t idealistic like your poetry”

I must fearlessly sing,
Fearlessly sing,
With every atom of my soul and being
With nothing, like a beggar to the kings,
But my love
Wild and free

Save the world in my paintings
Shine hope from my poetry
When my flesh is buried by the fleeting
When my soul ascends into the everlasting
My thoughts, my songs, will still be echoing
Within every heart like me,
From a


Like salmon swimming upstream
Upon this Life’s Strait
Between Nothingness of Being
And the Endlessness of Being
Every woman and man
Rushing towards the same direction
Flight or falling
The end is always the same
Death, and repeats,
The Cycle of Living

The Sea of Every Being, who would stop flowing?
Stones, or vessels, everything standing still, will never remain
Fish and droplets, must also combine with the waters of already been

Throughout history,
Prosperity never enjoyed longevity
It doesn’t matter at all,
Whether or not you believe in the
Holy Dream
Everyone wants to leave a mark
Leave a mark on the plain
Where impermanence permanently be  
Leave a mark, footsteps
Where the dust of beings and the temporal wind
Will always sweep
It all

And I stop, downstream
Facing everyone upwards
And sing

And I,
I must sing
Must sing in the desolation
In the silence
I sing
Forget me if you please,
Mock me if you please
“Chasing meaningless dreams”
“Reality isn’t idealistic like your poetry”

I must fearlessly sing,
Fearlessly sing,
With every atom of my soul and being
With nothing, like a beggar to the kings,
But my love
Wild and free

Save the world in my paintings
Shine hope from my poetry
When my flesh is buried by the fleeting
When my soul ascends into the everlasting
My thoughts, my songs, will still be echoing
Within every heart like me,
From a


Row upon row
Hopeless bodies crawl and crouch
Upon the desert of abundance
Chased by the sandstorm
That will soon catch up to us
And sweep over all

But those of us awake
Rush towards the other way
Fearlessly sing
Joyously sing
It doesn’t matter what lies beyond this wave
Darkness or Light
We still sing
In the Desolation, I Must Sing
Original Lyric in Chinese written:
Thursday, October 24, 2019, 8:44 PM
English translation completed on:
Sunday, October 27, 2019, 2:00PM
Thanks to Lawrence Hall for proofreading! :)
This is from a few weeks ago; I think my mind and eyes need a little rest. I also should read a little bit more, my reservoir of knowledge is running a little bit low.
1.7k · Oct 2015
Yue Wang Yitkbel Oct 2015
To: Charles Rennie Mackintosh.
By:Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Mackintosh, sir
Under the shades of the Willow Tree
I picked up the flower
Your Pink Rose
A nouveau time, nouveau mean
Lights shines through
The minimal window panes
I see, the marriage, renaissance
The White Rose and the Red one too
Blue, Scottish blues
Now, the pedals broken, they flew
Leaving only
My violet soul
Yue Wang Yitkbel Aug 2018
How do I tell if
You’re only a dream
Or my reality

Not by the ecstasy
Of coexistence
Simply standing next to you
Moments at a time
Each second a lifetime of joy
So short lived, mere sparks
In my dreamless night
Yet, each of them
Brighter than a thousand suns
Bringing everlasting warmth
To the starless depth
Of my soul

But, by the intensity of my pain
When your flame suddenly
Extinguished within me
Within my reach

At that very moment
And forever after
There was
A hush
The silence of deafening screams
At war with one another
That annihilate my reverie
Of living

For you have taken with you
All of me
My words, my breath, my being
Ever stretched between a world
I struggle to remain within
And the senseless

I feel every pinch
Every twinge
Every insufferable pull
Yet, I plead not for numbness

I savor this
Savor the intensity
Of this unbearable
Suffocating pain
Of longing

For, only then
I know
You are my reality
You can never be just a dream
With such profound
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jul 2018
I have not known love
Not known the stars
The moon and the sun
And warmth and all the
Petals that blossomed inside
Every particle of my heart
I had barely known words
And I had barely known the dark

I dwelled within the dreamless
Sinking into the abyss
Dragged down by merciless
Invisible hands of fear
Senseless guilty, and
The threat of life
That clutched my throat
And crushed my being
With an abundance of
Things that are not mine
In a bet against an abundance  
Of unfulfilled desires
I was suffocating
At the fringe of madness
And pleaded for a fall
Of complete non-existence
To be forgotten
To be lost
Till I can no longer remember
Myself, till I was never here at all
Till there was no life, breath, and

Until the spark
The flash of dim light
That flickered in an instance
Across your eyes
Like a passing shadow
Like a spectre at the edge of our sight
Like the illusion of time
And the warmth a dream brings
I cannot no longer be certain
That it was ever there
But, it was the wildfire
That lit up the barren of my soul
And led me out of the cave
And showed me a world within me
That I had wished to known
But had always been so far away

I saw stars within the milk and honey
With, or without, the night and day
I saw tears in every raindrop fallen
With, or without, endless fields or ocean waves
I saw life within your presence
With, or without, the beginning or end of being
I saw darkness within your absence
With, or without, a maelstrom, or life’s grace

As long as you were there
I was no longer the bitter
Adversary to living
But the greatest friend of life

With you
Time only meant waiting
Eons for a second of your smile

With you
Space only meant coexisting
A second with you for moons of your warmth

Yet, there was not one second
I was not aware that the darkness
The emptiness, the silence
The shadow of your future
Was trailing behind me
Getting closer and closer
Waiting to push me back down the
Bottomless pit of loss
Till I am not just as wretched as before
But completely shattered and extinguished
By the lack of your light

I tried to get to you
Before the abyss got to me
But the desperation of my fear
Frightened you away completely

Like the child and the fireflies
I tried calling you back
With shards of my soul in my palms
And tears falling from my sky
But there was no use
I had to watch you take everything
You brought with you away
I had to watch my world weather away
And the unkempt bitterness
Grow back in haste

Yet, you have not taken everything away
The shards of my soul turned into stars
And the forest of my undying love
Struggling to grow and stay

The tears of my pleas collected into a river
That I sailed on and on heading your way

And although I did not chase back
The light of your fireflies,
I kept every speck of their light
These I turned into words of love
Every day I sent one to you
So that, on your way to your happiness
You’d never stray

I don’t have much of them left
And soon I’ll be silent, dreamless,
Dark and fading away

I see and hope you are content enough
For, I can no longer hold back the silence
Of your crashing waves
I’ll soon be sailing into a place without words
And there
In complete darkness
Beneath a perpetual starless night
Is where
I’ll stay
I am suffocating in a cave of complete silence, breathing in my own words, and feigning a shadow of love.

My words have become empty echoes of my loveless soul to be heard only by me, sometimes how I wish it would talk back to me, in clear, unmistakable voice, form, and being, and tell me, my love of the silent and shapeless was not an illusion and mistake.

But, for now, when my own mother say my words are just empty displays of vocabulary, I can no longer feel their weight.
Yue Wang Yitkbel Aug 2019
There's no contentment for the stranger in strange countries
Even though she desires it, it is not what she needs
The dread of being comes with wizened routine
But the cure, a constant anticipation, lies not within
Paradise is eternity in a moment, blissfully lived
Such was the fleeting ways of the stranger and ‘the bee’
An everlasting dream in instances never meant to be
Now that only regretful silence forevermore, remains
The wasp still sings, just so the stranger never hear the doubts from the deep
But the wasp is not a bee, unwanted, the stranger could never keep
Alas, the fate of a love wanting to hear but would never speak
The ever distant longing of The Allegory of the Stranger and the Bee

May the stranger find another life, eternal moments of bliss
And gift the wasp The Present of happiness and the joy of pain
The Absurd Existential Angst of wanting to give everything but knows not how to receive
Knows not how to love
Knows not how to be happy
Knows not how to be.

In the stranger, The Wasp saw a savior
From her shell, from her hatred of everything
She finally dreamed of living, and lived in a dream
In the wasp, the stranger saw a break from the stranger's routine
From the dread of living without much anticipation
The stranger seemed happy, finally truly happy for once in a dream
But, a dream is still just a dream
The wasp sang too loud, and woke the stranger’s sleep
Now only a hopeless longing for the stranger-
The wasp could never love without unbearable pain-
Absurdly remains

If ever the stranger wonders if enough was accomplished
If the stranger's enough, in the stranger's existence of being
Know that the stranger showed the wasp how to be happy
That the stranger is the wasp’s hope of living, the wasp’s everything
But the wasp is not lovable,
The wasp is not a bee
Alas, the wasp is such an absurd being
The Allegory of the Stranger and the Wasp

By: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
Wednesday, July 24, 2019
1.4k · Jul 2017
Your Moon
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jul 2017
I don't want to be your sun
I want to be the moon
Pale, faint,
You might not even notice me sometimes
But when you need me the most
When you are lost
I will be there
Having never left.
1.3k · Jun 2019
The City of Dante
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jun 2019
Jacques de Rouge

The wandering pilgrim

Of poetic seekings

Drifted away once again

Oppose the Homeland Paris

And into the Heart of Italy

Known for many feats


One was in particular


It is the City of Dante

Firenze, in a frenzy

Have manifested itself

In the Golden Light

Of heavenly stars to be

Alive with all characters

Past and passed.

Opening wide behind

Lorenzo Ghiberti’s

The Gates of Paradise

Dante himself emerged

From the centre

Of the Florence Baptistery

And ascended toward the light

The opening of Hope and Stars

Among the rings of Heaven

Jacques de Rouge followed,

In pursuit.

And kneeled before him,

As Dante stopped and stood

With the Eagle!

In Piazza di Santa Croce.

When Jacques de Rouge stood

In a shadow at Palazzo Vecchio

The shadow revolved like

Da Vinci’s Helicopter

With what seemed like

A bulging knot at the end.

Barely missed his head

Jacques de Rouge

Realized the swings

Were from the slingshot

Of none other than

That of the one masculinity

Of all masculinity

Michelangelo's David.

His marble complexion transformed

Almost ever so light and faintly

Into a smooth and pale flesh.

Jacques cast his eyes down

In an unavoidable instinct of shame.

When he looked up, the flesh

Is now a single dangling foot

Seconds from stepping into

The Niche of Orsanmichele

And approaching his beloved Christ.

Amen, and he proceeded.

Discreetly into the Secrets of Sandro Botticelli,

That which is secured marvelously

As the Standing Monument of

Giotto’s Bell Tower


Brunelleschi's Dome.

The Three Graces danced

The Venus stood in the classical position.

And one woman looked wearily at Jacques

Staring into his eyes.

And yes, Heaven it was.

As Jacques stood in the illusion of the weightless contrapposto.
Repost of an older poem:
The City of Dante

Wednesday, May 22, 2013


Yue Yitkbel Xing ****
Yue Wang Yitkbel Oct 2019
‘The Problem to be explored: The Problem of Abundance:’

Nothing lasts anymore, nothing seems meaningful anymore, nothing feels wanted anymore,

Except for the already lost and gone, and can’t be retrieved.

It seems everything is given without being asked for.

You’ll only notice something when it's not there:


“My cup must be empty once again in order to receive.”

I have suddenly forgotten where I have just heard

This being said in a prayer but I think it is the key, the answer

To the needless and senseless suffering of our herd

But, its truth stuck with me, and I too wonder

I too think I must be silent again to allow the singing once more

I too think I must become the void to welcome the replenishing wave

Of excitement

Of the need to climb while weighed down by life’s

Various impossibilities, and mystery

And not float thus, away

Fallen to the what Milan Kundera

Described perfectly in his title:

“The Unbearable Lightness of Being”

Our cup runneth over, and we are left to wander

With the grains of time, and consciousness

Escaping through our desperate fingers

As we rush towards a mirage of permanence

While scorching our feet on the sand and deserts  

Burnt by an ever more present sun

And the tedium of golden overabundance

Ancient wisdom dictates that:

“What is useful is not the cup,

But the void that’s ready to receive

The already full need no more

And its further worth deceives”

“Reunion of too long must not last

Separation is inevitable

Separation will always be short-lived

Reunion is unavoidable”

Now, that’s some wisdom to heed

The Union of Lovers will need

‘The Problem of Too Much Goodness’

We are always questioning the Problem of Evil

While too few words lend to the Terror of Good

Everything is living longer and longer


Everything is dying quicker and quicker

It really is “the best of times”

It really is “the worst of times”


Our flesh savours a never before longevity

Our soul is aging rapidly at an alarming rate

This is A Tale of Two Realities:

Where Time is both a child

With an almost non-existent attention span

And the world its vast endless sandbox

A toy is too quickly loved and so immediately


Where Time is also senile

With an almost non-existent memory reserve

With the ancient past constantly retold in nostalgia

And the immediate events of rapid currents


There are still so much hunger and terror in

The modern world

Of course, the well-fed, warless, and unmarked

are being overlooked

But there is a hidden, yet imminent gloom

A spectre hanging above the peaceful and full:

‘The Problem of the Need to be Desired’

We are beings made with one innate desire

To climb, to reach a height ever higher

And one day

Above all

Throughout history,

There has always been way too much


For the mass to reach the summit

And now,

It seems that the summit itself is built

By a stack of the masses

So many of us are great

That none of us is great

Therefore, so quickly forgotten

And replaced by others in


Speaking of time,

Or rather, our conscious

Awareness of change

It seems to be overused,

Weary and


As a dying old man in mind

Resembles a stubborn child

Our Collective Temporal Consciousness

Is thus

So forgetful like a senile being


Losing interest so quickly like an infant

Our cup, our mind is so full

That not only our flesh has become

That of gluttons complaining the

Blandness of an abundance of food

Our soul is also yearning for the

Quiet performance and desirability

Only a lack of supply could supply

So, in effect, GOODNESS


Have somehow oversupplied

Itself till

It is almost worthless to


What is there to reach

If so many have already found

The Summit of Everything?

That we are among the masses


And, what about those that have

Risen above THE MASS

So early in their life

That to them, there is only space

To fall?

In the past,

We were all so close to the pit

The Pit of Darkness

The Pit of Death

In our climb

That we hold on to every branch

For dear life

No matter how many stones

Fall on us

We look down upon the void

And the black


And will always

Sink our nails deeper

Into the earth

Just to stay alive

And still,

To no avail

So quickly,

We all fall

To pitied, and

Dearly treasured and mourned




For the hurt

And the healed

And the unmarked

Life marches on mercilessly

Indifferent to us

The bodies crawling and crouching

Upon the desert of abundance

Row upon row

Chased by the sandstorm

That will soon catch up to us

And sweep over all

Where will it take us,

And what before then?

What would cure and stop

This perpetual climb that will

Always place those on top

At the bottom of this crushing hill

The Possible Solutions:

‘How will we quench the thirst of Height?’

We did not witness THE BIRTH OF TIME

We cannot halt THE AGING OF TIME

We cannot know what comes after


But we desperately need a constant climb

Here, we see the Gates to Two Routes

One leading towards the Tangible

Garden of Men

One leading towards the Unseeable

Temple of Worship

There is no right or wrong way to either

However, how you spend your time

Within each

Will determine your plight during  

The time before the True Flight

Pace yourself in your walk through

The Garden of Men

Though there is an abundance of fruits

You must calculate and ration

Your own sustainable share of

Good and Evil

Enjoyment and Suffering

So you don’t exhaust the reserve

Or become weary till nausea

Of the sweetness of being

If you must seek to rise up above all

Your climb must be timed till the very end

Where you will never be crushed by the fall

On the Rota Fortunae, before you inevitably land

The Supply and Demand of Good and Evil

Must be balanced even if by the hands of men

Lest the world turn to well-rested upheaval

When even gold is as abundant as sand

Then, there is the Pave to the Promised Land

Where lost souls of ****** hunger find

Their means to an end, their helping hand

Where fulfilled bodies of lost souls and minds

Pleads to have their invisible suffering end

I used to think that Grace lives in humility

But I see even the Truth appeals to the nature,

Foolish frailty and vanity of all women and men

How do you tell the beings of imminent demises

That this earthly supply and demand of status

Is worthless in the end in a paradise without ends

Where there is no fall for a fear to plummet and land

But to say the weakest of earth

Must be the strongest of heavens

The least of the timely and impermanent possessions

Will be the most in the place after the ultimate ascension

Not to imprison our desire for greatness

But to set it free and follow the lofty dove and olive branch

Knowing that the great height is achieved by humility

To take the fall and suffering and rise in the Eternal Land


The painful truth is,

And truth must hurt through the bones,

And ache seasonally to not be forgotten

There must be a Supply and Demand of Good and Evil

By our humble minds or divine hands

For honesty to be wanted, and prized

And not worthless like the ocean sand

Lest we become weary of virtue and crave for its end

There are solutions for all,

For those who put faith in life


For those who put faith in an afterlife

Simply, though,

It is ever difficult

Just to pace your climb

Either to reach the summit at the end of your life

Or just to leave the height to the ever lofty place without time.

Where you’ll never fall to a late demise

And be crushed by the Rota Fortunae

Where even the stars would envy

The brilliance of your

Another stream of consciousness that poured itself out of my unkempt mind. I started with a very vague idea and the title and thesis only came in the midst of this essay, or trial of thought. It is again, pages long. And special thanks to Lawrence Hall to help me proofread this mess of my mind.

I think my mind is finally taking a break from forming words, phrases, and sentences, and I for once, welcome this quietness, thought I always fear my silence, fearing I'll never write again.
The Supply and Demand of Good and Evil
By: Yitkbel Yue Xing ****
Monday, October 14, 2019, Canadian Thanksgiving
15:03-17:22(Finished Writing First Draft)
1.1k · Dec 2018
The Spacetime of Our Soul
Yue Wang Yitkbel Dec 2018
I dreamt about you last night

Or as I know now

I saw you

In a different time

But within the same space

Where we’ve always coexisted

Silently, without

Loudly, within

I was never sure before

If I am just hearing my own

Echoes of words I sang for you

But heard only by me

An illusive love of two

In front of a cloudy mirror

Obscured by a lack of presence


If I kept my silence

I’d hear your voice again

If I disappeared

I’d find you once again

To my surprise

Though it was expected

Just like your impermanence

Just like your absence

Your presence in my dream

Caught me off guard in motion

As you held me tightly

While the twinges of your

Tangible soul blossomed

Throughout every atom

Of my being

Echoing through the night sky

In your unmistakable voice

Giving light to stars that have always

Permanently been there

But were ignored by me

In my search of you

Among the visible

While you hid within every

Light and darkness

Every flowering star

Every bit of space

Fertile as earth

Darker than the midnight sea

With its shimmering reflections

That which  

I am now swimming through

And falling into

Like a child

In this storm of every sense

In my own dimness

I always thought

You were reaching me through

The same time

But separated by a different


I didn’t see the truth

I felt it

But I never understood it

You were never showing me

A life of if and could’ve

You were showing me

Our future

Our love in a different time


Within the same space

Where our souls have

Always coexisted

Where our soul

Has always

Reupload to community as it appears to be invisible for the majority of users:
The Spacetime of Our Soul
April 16, 2018
By: Yitkbel

(Inspired by Jamadhi Verse)
1.1k · Sep 2018
The Very Dream of Life
Yue Wang Yitkbel Sep 2018
There are lights in the sky
Each a lamp lit for someone else
And none for me

I’d sent flame after flame
Up there for you hoping that
One day they’d be bright enough
To reach you

To listen to your words of white heat warmth
That will send a wave of fire through
The void and light a billion stars
For me
Even if you didn’t intend to
Your words, your smile,
Even your silence is what
Lit up the sky for me
So that I saw besides everlasting darkness
And ever more endless shadow
There are life brewing in the silence
Though not for me

The silence only smothers, and suffocates me
Like an invisible hand tightly gripping onto my throat
Without me noticing, ever so violently
Yet ever so slowly squeezing harder and harder
Till I cannot breath, not knowing the reason why

It forces me down into the depth of the abyss
Till I am no longer one, but one with the shadow
One with the bottomless pit of despair and fear
Till I am no longer within the void, but am the void

Yet, when I saw you
When I met you
I was lifted up out of where I thought I belonged
And could hold against the weight
Of all that is without light
The gloom, the shadows, the night
The black of space
The silence that cries
And floated weightlessly
Above, below, and within
All there ever was, and will be
For, even though I know not how
My love for you
Has the power to lift me up:

Beyond the wild fields of stars
Beyond the glistening ocean of light
Beyond the dreamless darkness
Beyond the unkempt bed of life
Beyond the inescapable swamp of death
And beyond
All of time

To a place where only the existence of you
Holds out its shapeless hand to me
And lead me
Rather the merely dust, and breath of me
Through the void, to the empty vessel
Carrying all the pure
Feelings, senses, love, and even pain

Though it is a place
Way beyond the rays of any sun
Way beyond the circle of life
Way beyond decay and apathy
Way beyond flesh and blood

I saw every color
Every being
Every state of being
Every possible and impossible thing
Every time and space
Pass through the ghost of you and I
And cease to be
At least that’s what they appeared to be

The twinges, the sharp electric sparks
You sent through out every atom of my body
And every participle of my soul
Told me that

They are no longer life that exist exterior to us
But within us, or rather
They are us, were us, and will always be
As they have never existed otherwise
In and since that moment of eternity

I see every river through me
My blood and hair
Every fish, your touch
Every dancing seagrass
The joy your gaze ripples through me

I see every mountain and valley
All around you
Every bump on your skin
Every wave on your fingertips
Every stone and sharp edges, my pain
Every field my words of love unending

Every burning star
Dots our shining eyes
Every moon, every heavenly body
That passes, they are the fleeting
Yet never ceasing reflection of affections
Waltzing again and again across our sight
Playful like children
Not yet exposed to any worldly sorrow

Every bit of space without light
Every pit of pure darkness
Caves of eternal shadow
Every howling silence that plunders pass
They are too, forever part of our love
They are the pain of longing
That makes each moment of proximity
So frighteningly precious
Afraid to be lost, so keeping it close
Like a token of innocent love
Pass down through generations
Till no being of flesh and mind
Remains, yet the dust still holds
Tightly onto it
Never letting go

At last
Every bit of you
Like water droplets through the given earth
Like sunshine in an inseparable bond with life
Like rains of stars that will never leave the sky
Have seeped, melted, and spread
Through every drop sweet and bitter of me
Till I am no longer just acquainted with living
But am the very dream of life.
I have been struggling with writer's block again.
So here's a repost from not so long ago:
Originally posted:

And inspired by:
1.1k · Aug 2019
Eternity of True Love's Gaze
Yue Wang Yitkbel Aug 2019
We often remark collectively

The curious quickness and languidness

Of supposed objectively measured time


Never truly resolving how could

Fixed increments differ

So significantly and equally

To different close observers

Perhaps it is thus:

That spacetime is a gravitationally

Wrinkled fabric

Measured with a rigid rule

A linear distance

With unseen folds and faults

Unaccounted for in the straight line

That like mountains and valleys

Unable to cross directly in flight

For the haplessly wingless of us

We must climb over and fall through

Therefore adding to the voyage

Time closer to the truth

And mountains and valleys endless

There must have been for us both

To climb over and fall through

In that indivisible fleeting moment

When my eyes first met yours

And mountains and valleys endless

There must still be for us both

In every indivisible fleeting moment-

Again and again, forevermore-

Whenever my eyes meet yours

For such is our love's 'DENSITY'

For such is our love's gravity

They must all be the ceaseless ripples

From our two ever embracing

Neutron star souls
Dates of this poem:
Version 1: January 19, 2019
Version 2: May 11, 2019
Yue Wang Yitkbel Nov 2019

When we are still combating the problem of evil
With our vicious guns and metals of empathy
An invisible enemy much more clever and stealthy
Has been sneaking behind us
Suffocating us with the suddenly plenty
On this battlefield of seeking

We seem to be caught in between
Two grotesque foes, but are we really?
The gloomy autumn sky is covered with change
Perhaps we judged too early, unclearly-
The red leaves fallen with grace of leisure
Have obscured their countenance, and we see
Only a tattered fool holding a scythe of nothing
And a soldier looming with righteous perfection
Yet, perhaps behind their foliage masks
The fool has his brow raised with love and longing
Cherishing his tool for harvesting
While the soldier with his bullets ever ready
Smirks with an air of violence
Perhaps we have failed to distinguish
The unwanted, cleverly disguised humble friend
From the well dressed yet poisoned with greed, foe


Where I come from we used to send
The youth not to the land of plenty and above us
But to help the poor, those who after hard work
On the land, lie beneath a clear sky full of stars
Unwounded by the pale light polluting the cities
With nothing but the vast dome of possibility
The moon and specks lighting up nothing
But a heart full of hopes, love, and dream

Now we climb and climb
Till the new sprouts are already at the peak
Or they are struggling under the shadow
Of the giant trees
Unable to find higher climes
Unable to break free from this lack of oxygen
Of the giant canopy of already achieved greatness


The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire
Was not supposed to be experienced by us
In a couple of generations, in a couple of decades

And the speed of the waves of boom and bust
Of our stability and the longevity of great things
Is only getting faster and faster
In this ocean of constant rise and falling
In this new age
We lift up the logs above us so quickly
And then let them drown so rapidly
We are more like volcanic rocks
With so many holes floating, to ask to be filled
And when fulfilled, drown as we fill, purposeless
And empty


Youth in both poverty and idleness craves for unrest
But those on top should never be opposed with
Proud antagonism
With cries of illusive victory the restless rush towards
The king who tied himself to the top rung of
The wheel fortunae
Who is yet unaware where his inertia leads
Till his destined demise as it turns
To lift up the newly rich
And the new enemy
The vicious cycle of wanting to be above all
When the unwanted truth is glad humility


The oak trees stable at its roots, undefeated
Sends us in leaves and birds chirping
A warning to heed that we are losing our depth
In our growth and rooting
For we have rarely seen the valley empty
Yet with all the space to fill with everything
And now live and dream on a slopeless plain
Some with it all and unable to hold anything
Some struggling to breathe under the shades
We are all waning, waning
For our fingers had never dug through the earth of life
With the desperation of the fear of being swarmed
By the dark clouds of timely locusts
These wizened words are being scoffed
For being too connected to the past

Are we proposing to cut off the rope
Connecting us to the very beginning
Just so we could get faster to the end
To the depth of this pit
Where no traveler would truly return
Without the past guiding
And we will fall again and again
Ever repeating


I was filled with guilt and despair
That while people are still with next to nothing
With no luxury and sometimes not even family
That when others try to bring them necessities
I can sit in cozy idleness writing poetry
Yet filled with nothing but shame and the empty
In a world less and less occupied with reading
Why I must be a poet sole and wholehearted

And when the missionaries
Send the doves through the screen
Asking for awareness and money
To support these bodies with nothing
I was suddenly filled with hopeless shame and pain
For only one thought echoed from the words said to me
"They have very little material things, yet they seem to be really happy"
And that was the way it used to be
That the suffered and now living with peace
Seems to recall with loving longing
With great sorrow and gladness, I ask you
Is it really monstrous to say they are in a better place than we
They have the most important things
Love, hopes, and dreams
And the nothing waiting to and could be
Filled with anything
While our shaded and sheltered youth
While we hold our cups full
Filled with useless glamorous materials of our own
Constantly poured out for others to keep
Wailing for something more
And lasting


At the core of our ever-hungry souls
We only really needed one thing:
To be filled with something.

Hopefully more permanently,
But nothing of materialism, or even rationalism
Last more than
A mirage of permanency
Even the century tree of sunset dunes
Eventually sets as whispering dust into the sand
And even the wisest man fades away
Into the senile body whose soul
Has already bid farewell
To this temporary land

I sought and sought
And only found that  
The Word is true
Only Love transcends time and space
The embrace between two condensed hearts
Of pure longing could exert
The gravity
And gravitational time dilation
Of such self-forgetful density
That would wrap entire fabrics of reality
Around us, immersing us, with brief
Merciful revelations and trials
Of the unfathomable
Terror of Good, Emptiness of Plenty
By: Yitkbel Yue Xing ****
First Draft Completed: October 29, 2019 5:36PM
A mix of existential crisis, fundamental theology, rock music, and whatever little Taoism that's in my mind and blood.

Thanks to Lawrence Hall for proofreading! :)
1.0k · Mar 2018
Love that Backs Away
Yue Wang Yitkbel Mar 2018
Some voices are silent
Because they have nothing
Meaningful to say

Some voices are silent
Because they know perfectly
Words have weight

Some of them walk away
Because they don’t understand you
And are too indifferent to try to

Some of them won’t stay
Because they feel too much
To not be hurt by the smallest things
You may say

They both feel the same way
Silent, indifferent, hurtful and
So, you keep your hopes up
And pray
So, you never yield your love
And wait

But, don’t wait
A soul that will love you
Like you love them
Will also be the same

You are one that feels everything
And so every little thing hurts you
In every possible way
You are impossibly and impractically
You will believe something again and again
And you will love with all of you
No matter how many times you’ve been hurt

But you love in your own way
Unreserved, unyielding, loud
Yet sometimes completely

You are covered in calluses
And so are they
There are simple words
You struggle to say
And like you
They will take the littlest things
In the worse way

You are exactly the same
Yet, when you are together
You might seem universes away

If you wait
They will wait
A soul perfect for you
Might never come your way
Even if you’re right next to each other
At the same place

The mirror will only reflect what’s right in front of your face

That soul might love you for all of eternity
Till the end of time and space
If you wait
Their love might be words
You will never hear them say

Because, everyone wants to feel safe
And everyone wants to be loved
And not someone whose heart
Gets to be thrown away

They would rather keep quiet
Than to loudly love anyone
That they might love back
Bare and purely, with an open heart
So prone to be hurt

So, don’t wait
Love bravely with your already callous heart
Those that seem to back away
And don’t give up
The most beautiful souls will take eternity
To feel safe.
Yue Wang Yitkbel Oct 2018
Part 1 Down the Rabbit Hole:

He had faith in exceptions
He was optimistic
He “believed in six impossible things just before breakfast”
and had his cake.
He mused of the bunny farm
and fought the jabberwocky in his dreams.
These things failed him.
He woke up, and was crushed with the mice
In a snap of revelation
Under the weight of truth.
He was shattered, along with the coral corpses
Of the paperweight

Part 2 The Paper Weight:

A coral in the glass paperweight
A hummingbird shielded by twigs
The fragile illusion
A naive illusion
“The beautiful illusion”
Quoth Marlow, our dear friend Charlie.
Through the looking glass
His world, the Poet’s world,
was shattered,
Not by “a sea of trouble”
Nor by words of a mature revelation
but by Silence.

Part 3 The Horror, The Horror:

The wrath and sorrow of the composers
Were expressed
In the requiem of silence.
The conductor threw his hand open
In the final flight of the dove
For the poet, the dreamer,
Who, and whose ballads and odes
Were silenced on the battlefronts of the nouveau era.
No one followed when he chased the seagulls.
No one answered his pleads and screams of wrath and sorrow.
In the end, there was only silence
For the poet, and his poetry.
To this he whispered:
“The Horror, the Horror”
And then
Nothing more.
The Death of the Poet
By: Yitkbel Yue Xing ****
Taking a break from HP. Thanks for all your support!
970 · Oct 2015
Our Naked Souls
Yue Wang Yitkbel Oct 2015
Our Naked Souls
Written by: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
Friday, April 10, 2015

I like to lay beside warm bodies
Never too used to the cold
But my love is for naught
but a dream within a dream

I still want to be with you
Through the tulips and willow
But I don't know, don't know
If my memories still withhold
Within, within you

You left me caressing the air
Breath what's not there through
Me and my naked soul
My naked soul
My naked soul

Swimming through the wind
I saw shadows but nothing to hold
I kept my memories of old
and a silent story to be told

Your absence stripped me bare
and left me in the cold
Me and my naked soul
My naked soul
My naked soul
I sat under the willow shade
Peeled at the pink rose
and thought of you
But nothing's clear

You left me here
With another muddled affair
I can only feel
Us and our naked souls
Our naked souls
Our naked souls
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jul 2019
-The wasp cared for the stranger

And the stranger for the ‘bee’

The stranger brought her marigolds

And the wasp brings her honey

The stranger sought for another life

But the wasp she could never keep

Never did they realize

The wasp was not a bee-

Three Dimensions of an Unwanted Soul

     Three Stages of Existential Dread

Perpetual-Purgatory Dread

Omnipresent-Inferno Dread

Transient-Paradiso Dread


The Glasgow Subway of The Five-Dimensional Man

The Perpetual Existential Dread:

When you are lost in love
Your soul ages quicker than you grow old
Don't you see those living bodies with
Dead Souls
Trying to reap what was never sown

For the five dimensional man
Time is like the Glasgow Subway
He'll be aging forwards and backwards
To get to Hillhead you can't skip Buchanan Street
To get to the good times you can't skip the sad ones
And there's always going to be more bitter than sweet
But there's no end for the five dimensional man
There's no end to the Glasgow subway

He bought a typewriter down Byres Road
Learned to write South of Houston, Prince Street

The love was foreshadowed in Pandrossou Market
And he bargained and lost it on Main Street

The traveler travels through all of time and space
When you live infinitely, you'll remember every name
But when between dreaming and losing is your place
Even the immortal would lose his faith
He would give up the universe for one true love's grace
But perhaps it's easier to fall into the six dimensional ways
If infinite number of him existed in an instant with every trace
No happiness, no sorrow, no loss, no heart breaks
He'll gladly welcome the end of his days

There is a space time gateway 3000 light years away
For the end of solitude he'll endure this 30 lifetime race
He just wants to feel the comfort of a senseless place
And to fill his aching heart with empty loveless space
When nothing's ever gone, despair will vanish without a trace
Could this be the fate of the hapless five dimensional fool
Eternally without love, and another soul to his name


The Glass Elevator of The Six-Dimensional World

The Omnipresent Existential Dread:

They exist endlessly, they exist infinitely

I can see every trace of love

Wherever I want to be


This must be the undiscovered country

Where all travelers will return

The wasp found the stranger

Though neither of them ever left

This is the place of everything

Except, longing, heartbreak and dread

The Five-Dimensional Man has arrived

And in the happiest moments he’ll land

Here is the universe where nothing will ever end

Nothing ever passes

Nothing ever comes

All of existence in a single jump of the second hand

He looked through the looking glass

And shattered into a million six dimensional man

Each consciousness in one perpetual moment

Where he'll never experience anything else

Happiness or otherwise except

The Omnipresent existential dread of the

Six Dimensional Land

At the Gate of Paradise/Paradiso

The Walk of Life of A Fourth Dimensional Man

The Momentary/Fleeting Dread:

A piece of the trillion trillion six dimensional man

Floated near the wormhole from whence he came

When he crossed from the Five Dimensional Land

Though the new place in which he arrived had a beginning and an end

Since he is only a fragment, he fits in well with the rest of the men

Here, it is our own familiar landscape

My fourth dimensional friends

Where our protagonist finally found paradise

Or the nearest world before the sweet hereafter fence

He was born, he loved and lost, dreamt with regret

And finally passed on through the light

Leaving behind only ashes, dust and sand

Who knew all he craved was never infinite eternity on his Earth

But merely the end

Of his endless dread under the stars

Ever before the Promised Land
By: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****

Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Written while nauseous in the car on a road trip
This is the first draft, and first version.
917 · Jul 2018
The Metamorphosis of a Bee
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jul 2018
Before I met you

I was merely an unaging larva

Adept at hiding

Terrified of living

That always closed itself in.

It wasn't until you suddenly rushed in

that I finally gathered up the courage

The desire, the hope, the need

To burst from my suffocating casing

And flew right to thee,

Thinking you were just like me.

But when I did,

I saw what I didn't want to see

I saw the fragile mirror

That your kind eyes were reflecting

And found myself to be

Not the beautiful butterfly I was expecting

But an ordinary worker bee.

So I worked and worked

With my every breath

Persevered for you to notice me

Pleaded that you stay with me

Instead you flew away from me

And the wind under your wings

Carried away every little thing

Sunshine, earth, and rain

Till I finally withered in Spring

Till I finally accepted my fate and gave in

Became a drop of honey

Content just to be

The unseeable sweetness in that warm cup of tea,

I used to see you land in.
The Metamorphosis of a Bee

By: Yitkbel

Sunday, October 1, 2017
Yue Wang Yitkbel Nov 2018
Your souls are the seeds in the wind

I open my arms wide

Hoping to catch them in my dreams

I can barely see them
                  Their very presence

But I can feel them

Rippling through me



Tiny specks of twinges of love

That form

Brief little lightning

                                    Giving me life
October 10, 2018
Just posting and back to hiding.
879 · Jul 2019
The Stranger and the Wasp
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jul 2019
The wasp cared for the stranger

And the stranger for the ‘bee’

The stranger brought her marigolds

And the wasp brings her honey

The stranger sought for another life

But the wasp she could never keep

Never did they realize

The wasp was not a bee
Planning to look more into existentialism and really read some Sartre, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Dostoevsky, etc.
832 · Sep 2017
Yue Wang Yitkbel Sep 2017
I am the moon child that roams free
Senselessly in the starless nights
While you are all that's Earthly
Only occasionally glance up at the sky
Still, I love you,
And would rather be the dust floating in the silvery moonlight,
Just to be close to you.
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jul 2018
The more timid side of the maple leaves rustles along the wind

It's silvery sheen swings from side to side

Perhaps signalling to a long lost love not yet forgotten

                     From an once upon distant dream

No one knows if the ripples in the air will carry along the message

                    Till it reaches the land of forsaken things

But still


          The lone tree sings

As I cross it

I stumble onto a different reflection of yearning:


          As I wade through the river of wild flowers,

                    and greet the leaves with thorns as wings

The catkins hop onto me

A wave of small needle sharp pain attempts to send off their well wishes with me

Not knowing that the scratches on my being

The messages they try so desperately to depart with

The telegrams of little bumps and lines on my skin

Will never leave with me

Like the ripples in the air

The ripples through the grass

          The ripples of pain that momentarily made its presence well known throughout me

Will dissipate as soon as they form

          And be forgotten by me

All efforts of remembering and wanting to be remembered seem useless in the grand scheme of things

Still, within the palpitations of life, every pedal and every blade of grass resumes

          Its dance around me

Every seed of memory still holds onto me

And still

I try to find you within these things

Like fireflies seeking companions in the night sky

Only to find more warmth within embers of a more humble height

Of course, I did not find you in them

I only found myself seeking your presence

Even though you seem to exist within every breath I breathe

Disappointed, I went away for the night

As I was about to drift off to a more slumbering dream

Hoping for better fortunes in my aimless seeking

I saw you

          I saw you within my tea

I saw you through

The starless ripples within memories oceans deep

And as it reunites with the milk and honey

The sky became complete

Every drop was an universe

And within:

Every speck was you and me.
Yue Wang Yitkbel Nov 2018
My every thought had a life

My every thought was a living soul

Whose very birth and death begin and end

With the existence of you

I have never truly felt such joy

Rippling through every atom within me

Each blooming into a sea of wildflowers

A sea of every living thing

Playful, wild and free

Until I've met your eyes

Until I've met your smile

When you rushed into my presence

I've not just suddenly seen the light

But felt its wrath

Felt its everlasting warmth

Felt its very presence

Merely standing distances away from


Letting it consume me

Letting it wrap its invisible arms around me

Seep through my being

And transform me into a

Vessel carrying only love and fear

I've been asking questions all my life

Asking to be accepted

Asking to be fearless

Asking to be loved

And thought I needed answers

Yet the moment I saw you

And every moment when you were

Within my sight

I've readily forgot how to fear

How not to let happiness through

I've even forgot my own existence

Let alone its troubles and tears

And then, came the darkness:

What you have brought with

Your presence

You've taken them with you with

Your absence

And as you turned your back and

Walked away

The joy followed you

Then the light

Then my very dream of sleepless nights

My very dream of living

Until only the dreamless, the starless

Were left

To tear me away from my own soul

To break apart my every living particle

And along with the unbearable and breathless

Pain of its tearing, hurl each of them

One by one, into the abyss

Of loveless silence

And pointless existence

I've savored the twinge of its tearing

Endure the pain of its death

And rejoiced at this everlasting suffering

Knowing my love for you is true and endless

In the end, may it never end,

If I were to never love you

I'd only wish upon you

The heat and wrath of this joy

You've once gifted to me

And never, for a moment

Feel this pain, and suffering of your


Even, if I'd have to endure them


For you
(May 21, 2019:
Found this poems:
Reposted on Wattpad:✔️-23-vessel-of
Without credit.
The poem was written by me, Yidhna, on October 5, 2018, but was not posted on HP until November; meanwhile, the Wattpad dates the whole book to October 19, 2018. I have, fortunately, emailed myself the poem on the day it was written.

October 5, 2018
I am so grateful to have my poem "Help me love my humility chosen as a Daily. And thank you so much for all your kind comments!!!

I wrote this not long after I announced that I'd be staying off HP for a while and I am not really back yet.

This was one of two poems I wrote before I became completely silent in words again.
To even think about poetry became stressful for me recently. So unfirtunately I havent been on this site to read all your wonderful writes!

The Constant Battle

By: Yitkbel

Every little detail feels so grand and insurmountable

Every greatness seems so unreachable yet trivial in the face of immediate threats and envy

Like the match that’s jealous of the campfire while the moon shines coldly and so distantly

Every moment of happiness and sorrow feels as if they are at the edge of a fall of complete loss

Every moment of stillness feels so numb and dull

Every step I take is a great journey of only weariness and aches

Every great journey cannot hold my attention away from the littlest distraction

My simple words feels so undecorated


My more flourished pieces seem so convoluted

I seem to be an individual that’s too different


Not original enough


These are the constant battles in my mind

Waiting for your presence

The call for ceasefire
821 · Sep 2019
Tall Tale of Fools
Yue Wang Yitkbel Sep 2019
In a distant land, my homeland
Behind the winding road
Of strange mountains-
That used to swim under the sea
With stones too familiar with the
Tides of a forgotten time-
Full of cavities and scars-
Like the tattered soul of
Unrequited lovers
Never fully accepted their fate-

Some good men with hearts
Of gold
Built a wonderland from tales
Of old
And invited women and men
To play and perform
But these aren’t exactly like
The friends you’ve known
They are just like us but
They’ve never fully grown

So, some more men came
With words sharp and eyes glaring
Alas, all that glitters is not gold
“Exploitation” they yelled
“Abuse” they screamed
Calling to tear down this haven
Newly built

The perfectly unharmed screamed so loud
That the supposedly hurt was never heard:

“We’re not children you fools,
Here, we’re finally not special
Not outcasts, or outsiders
With a family of the same
And a palace for roofs
Who are you to decide we’re living
In pain?
You, who treat us like infants
When we’re no different from
A dramatized poem of a true story I once saw on TV about a group of self-righteous activists wanting to boycott a park created specifically for performers with dwarfism as if they can't speak for themselves, and the interview afterwards of the performers, who really enjoys the park where they feel truly at home, and hope others would not decide for them that they are being taken advantage of, and ruin a perfectly good haven for them.
Tall Tale of Fools
By: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
September 27, 2019 16:22
Yue Wang Yitkbel Dec 2018
I loved you everyday as the
Very first day and the very last

From the moment the sun opens its blinds
I hear
The initial breath of always the loudest
From your transparent soulful eyes
To your total lack of words

I saw nothing else but you and felt all
There could have ever been

Brief little lightnings ripple through me
And in their place

Waltz the fearless blossoming of every atom within my timid body, timid everything
Giving you all of me in a single mindless moment
Timeless yet so fleeting
Till I shed every petal of my soul
And shrivelled up to what’s to come

Through the wind
They flower in your footsteps
Yet form a fading path not to you
But to the abyss of imminent loss-

When you turn your back for the day
Or since the day you walked away
When I awake from my only truth-
When I meet your name in my dreams
(For I dare not dream of thee)-
When I truly feel the longing pain of living

In your absence
I fall
Everyday in breathless suffocation
Pleading for your presence
Through the darkness of this bottomless pit-
That’s only occasionally accompanied by my own rain-
Formed when the support and ground of your being
Mercilessly tore away from me

In your happiness
Distances away from me
How I wish to land
And gift you my final absence
And take away the presence
Of my helpless unwanted

Yet the cycle always repeats
And I have no choice but to
Joyously suffer for
This love
Swept in and swept away
By the wind
Wake in Love, Slumber in its Suffering
By: Yidhna
(καθημερινή αγάπη)
Thursday, December 20th, 2018
818 · Aug 2017
Butterfly Dream
Yue Wang Yitkbel Aug 2017
I am still chasing the butterfly dream;
I had it in my hands momentarily
all those years ago
When I was just a child
but it flew away, and never came back.
I thought it would visit again
the same time every year,
but one year turned into two,
two years turned into five,
six, nine, ten.
It never came back.

Yet, almost twenty years later,
I am still here,
waiting for a miracle,
Just so I can finally ask it:
“where did you go?
and where did you take
my childlike happiness?”
I had to replace it with this fake laughter
I perfected years ago.
Yue Wang Yitkbel Oct 2019
Enlightenment isn’t the discovery of the already known.
     No need to illuminate where the sun had already shone.

I. The Roads Endlessly Traveled

The Truth may be hidden and infallible
It can’t be said the same for its roads
For all past voyagers false or true
Will leave marks, endless trails of clues
A path may be closed
Others cut through
Wind and dust, and overgrowth
May cover and obscure a shallow few
And though light footprints oft lose to leaves and dew
We can’t blame them all for us being astray still
        If we stomp out the old
        And naively begin anew
Then we will truly be lost
To unknowingly retrace
Footpath already abandoned and used

II. The Miner and the Gardener

And now there are two ways
One clear path to the garden of reason
Always in the open, clear as day
Another a tunnel to either valleys or caves
Ever shrouded behind a gateway obscured
Dark in passion, fright or daze

And there are two travellers
Workers searching for the same

  The one of the tunnel
  Always mines for ore
Dreaming to one day find the sunkissed

The other of the garden
Constantly gather berries
To fill his insatiable hunger for sweet
Sense and wits

Till now
Both of them have gathered more than
They’ll ever need or use

What pleasant wonder, and departure from this
Could they discover if they would switch places

Would the gardener of sense
Finally have a vessel for his fruits
To not be sullied
And preserve
For all men and women, and children to enjoy
Always, anytime in any season
From summer days of knowledge
To even wintry days of reason

Would the miner of lofty dreams
Rejoice in the replenishing of strength
Sipping the sugary wine
Of ceaseless ideas
Along with his gardener mate
And ***** friends of all earthly grace
All the more stronger
To altogether breach
And reach The Forever
Cloudless Place

Where the sun never sleeps,
But only dreamy coze will we embrace.
Please read: :)

Travel All Roads - The Rational and The Ideal
     Enlightenment isn’t the discovery of the already known.
     No need to illuminate where the sun had already shone.
By: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
October 6, 2019, Finished Writing at 23:17

I really should be getting back to reading. But I just can't stop writing all these thoughts that rush to mind. Not exactly that divine and guiding nausea I always feel and have often written about but close:

This came to me spontaneously, and so I wrote all in one go. It is my immature exploration of the age-old problem of dualism, and what has been repeated a million times in the dire warning of the various variations of “If we forget the past, we’re doomed to repeat it.” Ironically it is more than likely, now that I have read it through, that it is too simple and obvious of a metaphor and allegory to not have been told before, perhaps even countlessly, and in many languages.  The irony being me having read so little to not actually be familiar with human history and our literary past.

Alas, even so, I see too many wise men boast about their correctness in a fallible road to truth while mocking those that walk a different path, perhaps not entirely correct, but still, infallible and non-disprovable as lost souls.

Even though we are all still lost. Perhaps, we are getting ever closer to the end, but nevertheless, it is yet unreached.

And so perhaps it is not so redundant for me to repeat this Critique of Pure Reason in my childish words.

Travel All Roads, Walk All Path.

You’ll never know where it goes, what it shows until you’ve seen and experienced the journey yourself.

Enlightenment isn’t the discovery of the already known.
No need to brighten where the sun had already shone.
Yue Wang Yitkbel Mar 2018
If you are someone that
Feels everything in its
Purest and sharpest ways

You will love and be loved
In a misunderstood and callous

You will hear the silence
You will see no reaction
You will see caring eyes that look away
You will find someone that hides
In obscured place

You will feel their love
But the closer you get
The further they get away

But don’t give up
Don’t wait
If you wait
You might never hear their love
That they rather lose than
To it away

Open hearts are easily hurt
As they all say
So don’t expect them to
Express love carelessly
As they know it’s weight

They will be afraid to love those
That they know they will give
Their whole heart to
And thus be distant and away

Their silence hides a heart
That feels more than the same
Their distance keeps a soul
That rather hides away

If you wait
No worthwhile soul will stay
If you wait
A soul that feel as much as you
Will stay away:

A soul that feel everything
Might never show their love to you
Especially when they feel the same
Especially when they love you even more

They might seem always distance away
They might always be leaving and never stay
They might never say the words you want them to say

But, if you feel the same
If you feel everything in the sharpest ways
You would feel their suffering
And why they would hide away
Sometimes, you have to love them this way
This unreciprocated way

But, don’t worry
When you give your heart to them
They won’t throw them away
They might seem indifferent
And unloving to you
Because they love you
More than they can bare
Ever losing

So, love bravely with your already callous heart
Those that seem to back away
And don’t give up
The most beautiful souls will take eternity
To feel safe.
745 · Jan 2019
The Absolute Truth
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jan 2019
I see a world of people insisting
Upon absolutes
Within the current of perpetual
Change and uncertainty

I too am lost among
That insist upon the moment truth
Though they are constantly falsified

Those that have too much faith in science
Give not enough credit to faith and intuition

Too many souls seeking absolute answers
Too many souls only accepting absolute answers

“There must be a reasonable explanation”

Or reasonable within the current paradigm

Yet, perhaps what you needed to see a
Wider world is to take that leap of faith
To the next paradigm

There will be no “Theory of Everything”

If you are not considering everything

‘Truth’ can become mockery
Within mockery there’s often more truth
We are willing to accept

As Arthur Schopenhauer said:

“All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident”

Violent opposition to ridicules
Are evident of acceptance
Disguised as its antithesis

Often such mockery is not intended
But interpreted by a self holding truth
Afraid to be exposed to the world
Thus fighting back whenever it is touched
Leading to its unintended manifestation

Perhaps it is the dearth of a deeper love
In the absence of a truly unconditional love
That gives me fear in what it is to be accepted
There is no ‘Truth’
There is no ‘absolutes’
There will not be the 'acceptance'
That I seek and sought
Inspired by War and Peace and Julia Zarankin's course on said text, as well as some recent observations. Mostly Tolstoy's journey to a truth that will never be found.
741 · Apr 2018
The Glass Souls
Yue Wang Yitkbel Apr 2018
I can no longer be lost

Among the stars

Wishing to shine

More brightly than others

Never content in my own


When I have finally realized

That it is no longer the time

To light up a starless sky

In this age of dreams

Bright than a thousand suns

For there are trinket souls

Of a rare and fragile beauty

Like corals in a paperweight

Abandoned by a world

Mindlessly chasing transient


I cannot sow every seed

In this spring of an evermore

Inexperienced yet happier world

Of self-fulfillment

I cannot bring the sun

To every shadowed

And unfortunate being

Yet to be blessed with the

Summer of a much

kinder world


I cannot save every leaf

Falling soundlessly  

Within this autumn of a

Wizened universe

I cannot shield every

Hungry soul from

This wintry world of


But I see a trinket soul

Around me, around

All of us

Fading, almost invisible

Withering and suffering

They are beautiful

But not glamorous

So no one praises them

Like they do to the others

Around these glass souls

They are not poor

Not hungry

Not visibly sick

Nor in desperate

Need of care

So no one ever

Rushes to their side

So they've build a wall

Around themselves

Without doors

Not that they don't

Want anyone to knock

It's just that they know

No one will knock

And deafening silence

Suffocates them

And they can’t stand

Being overlooked

By the seekers

The seekers of

The brightest and darkest

Stunning brilliance and

Obvious sorrow

Some of them feel like

They need the whole world

To love them to death

And no attention is ever enough

But, no one can really

Handle the weight of

The universe

The weight of a billion

Judging eyes on their

Already vulnerable and

Solitary shoulders

They have so much love to give

But they don’t know how to give

Those that already have enough

Couldn’t care less for them

Those that also built a wall

Around themselves

Cower to be broken

By equally fragile mirrors

Of themselves

Most of them have turned to hate

They despise this indifferent world

That have rejected them

Even when the world have done

Nothing to them

Like the empty glass shells

They have become

They project their inner

Bitterness upon every

Living soul

Even those that are hurting

Invisibly just as much as


So the world stayed away

From each and every

Glass child

As it seemed that

There is no cure

For an unseeable illness

Spreading among those

With healthy and able


And I was one of them

I wasn’t exactly sick

Mentally or physically

I was just angry



I tried to fight the world

And despised everything

Threw my tantrums

And begged for love

While being the least

Lovable person

And then something happened

I wouldn’t say I burst through my wall

I wouldn’t say I tore it down completely

But, I found my mirror

I found another glass being

That seemed bitter on the outside

But held so much sweetness

Ready to burst through the shell

Yet afraid to be wasted on

Another bland or bitter soul

I gave it all of my love

Even if it’s like artificially

Earning that love through

The looking glass

Loving myself in the process

I never broke both of

Our walls

Yet, I learned to be

A little happier

I learned to love the world

Just a little bit more

Not because I was for once

Or ever above everyone else

In this world

But I was at last a more

Significant part of a little universe

I wasn’t never the sun in anyone’s


But I like to think I was a moon

In the starless dream of nights


At last I was in possession

Of a trinket soul

Beautiful and sweet

That might never light up

The sky

But it finally

For once,

Lit up my whole world
Written around March 6, I submitted it somewhere but it was rejected.
737 · Jul 2018
The Echoes of My Voice
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jul 2018
I had no more songs to sing
Not because you never answered
But because I thought you didn't want to listen
I loved the echoes of my own voice
As long as I knew you were the cliff on the other side sending it back

But when the wall has been obscured by a total lack of presence

I can no longer see if you have already tore it down
And welcomed in everything that’s not me
And my voice had been all along
Just companion to the wind

I knew you didn't need me
But I know you needed something
I couldn't see if you are gathering
Gold underneath everything
And harbouring a world inside your dreams

I had to scatter the already broken pieces of me
So that you are never barren and empty
So you can be my distant field of love unending
Filled with all of me that's better than
These terrors I am carrying

I needed you more than you needed anything
But I knew you belonged to the earth
And I dare not let my wave of persistent
Darkness weather you away

I had to carry all of my own burdens in all of its dreamless weight
Let it crush me in silence

All I ask you is the echoes of my own voice
To know that you are still there

Feeling safe.
736 · Sep 2019
The Echo
Yue Wang Yitkbel Sep 2019
Do you pity or envy a world
That has cut off its calluses
Do you love or fear a world
So gentle against the wind
That a ***** would bleed
That a pinch would twinge

I pity and fear it,


Here I am, hiding
In a boat of poetry
In the strait of obscurity
Between two oceans of fear

The old world of joyous suffering
The new world of unbearable peace

Trying to marry the water of lively green
And the deadly blue

As I tie the old waves to the new
I set aflight an echo through the wind-
In the shape of a dove, a clarion call:

"Don't renounce your past
But accept it with pride,
Lest you be judged for what you have done,
And never
What you could, would, and will do!"
Sentient Dreams: My Poetry Anthology:

This is the manuscript to my amazon vanity press poetry anthology: "Sentient Dreams" that I have now decided to just share it here digitally. All of the poems have been published here on HP at certain points of time anyway.

Almost all of the poems are from October 2017-July 2019.
Please feel free to share! :)

I don't think I will be adding to this specific anthology in the future. (Except three more poems that will be updated later.)
The Echo
By: Yitkbel Yue Xing ****
Sep. 13, 2019, 10:48 a.m.
727 · Oct 2019
The Emptiness of Everything
Yue Wang Yitkbel Oct 2019
Why do we look down and pity
Those who are content in their
Nothingness and suffering

Is it really right and righteous
For us to want them to have more?
It is both impossible and implausible
For us all to have more.

For those who had nothing
Everything is gained
For those who have everything
Fear of losing is more constant

When I was a child
I read that story of a man
Who used to be happy with
His limited share of goods
Then, he found a gold nugget
And the poison spread through
His mind
Till he was viciously suspicious
Of old friends
And remained sleepless
Fearing the loss of
His fortune
How unfortunate that
When he gained the most
He lost it all
Lost his soul

Those of us with so much
Are gluttons with ever
Increasing appetite
We are constantly trying to
Fill the emptiness in our
Soul with a fleeting
Satisfaction and
The joy of a newly acquired

The happiness last for
Shorter and shorter
Periods of time
And then we are left
With the void

When we protest this
We are met with
“You are ungrateful”
“You are so blessed”
Are we really blessed?
When we gained everything
We lost our soul, our happiness,
Our upward gazes facing the sun,
And are now facing the field of ennui,
Or even, the dust of unspeakable shame,
For it seems we also lost the right to suffer.

When we are young,
Likes candies to a toddler
We crave for the sweetness of being
When you grow old
Likes the bitterness of tea
We immerse in the more tattered memories.

In Peter Jackson’s
“They Shall Not Grow Old”
Such horror was described
By the soldiers and veterans
That survived
You’d think they would block out
Their memories entirely
Yet, it ended with such a profound
If they had a second chance
They would do it all over again

Same with my grandmother,
When you ask her what was
The best times in her life
It will always be the times
She fought the most
And was hurt the most

And my mother’s generation
Was subjected to much hunger
Yet, she is more regretful about
The blandness
Of life and fulfillment now
With so many of her and my
Peers trying to actively
Seriously, and dangerously
Starve themselves
Just to feel pretty

How the rice and fruits
Tasted so preciously
How my grandmother
Had tried to relive her
Less materialistic life
From her childhood in me
How I searched and searched
For those imperfect berries
That always tasted sourer
Than sweet

Such is the Fullness of Being!
We are now blessed
With the Emptiness
Of Everything

I often feel so guilty
Being someone with so much
That I could leisurely
Just write poetry
While others try to give more and
More to those with

I see them much much
Happier than our materialistic
We think are more blessed
We think we are in a better place
But are we?
While they are able to find
Happiness and fulfillment
In hunger and suffering
We are lost among
Our everything.

Do they need more, or
Do we need to learn to
Live with less, much less?

I can’t help fill hungry bodies
But can I give myself to comfort
Souls that are suffering in
The Blandness of being
And abandoned for
Having everything.
The Emptiness of Everything
October 28, 2019
By: Yitkbel Yue Xing ****
723 · Feb 2018
Naked Soul
Yue Wang Yitkbel Feb 2018
I like to lay beside warm bodies
Never too used to the cold
But my love is for naught
but a dream within a dream

I still want to be with you
Through the tulips and willow
But I don't know, don't know
If my memories still withhold
Within, within you

You left me caressing the air
Breath what's not there through
Me and my naked soul
My naked soul
My naked soul

Swimming through the wind
I saw shadows but nothing to hold
I kept my memories of old
and a silent story to be told

Your absence stripped me bare
and left me in the cold
Me and my naked soul
My naked soul
My naked soul
I sat under the willow shade
Peeled at the pink rose
and thought of you
But nothing's clear

You left me here
With another muddled affair
I can only feel
Us and our naked souls
Our naked souls
Our naked souls
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jun 2019
Beyond the Veil of Our Inverted Universe:

I must wander

Beyond the thinnest part

Of our inverted universe

As we are outside of living

Living the whole of a dream

While dreaming

Fragments of

The Mirror of


Truth is only to be felt

For we see

Only what we wanted to see

And think

Only what we wanted to think

But only feelings

From sparks of infatuation

To chasms of the deepest sorrow

Is authentic

In and of itself


Beyond our desperate

Need for control

And there

Beyond the veil

Of false possessions





The authentic truth



Beyond all thoughts

Rationality and


Merely an intense feeling


With the untamed feeling of me

Two branches of lightning

Bursting through pure darkness

Briefly revealing the

Landscape of our universe

With the collision

Of our pure


When the Sleeper Wakes in Sleep:

When the sleeper ‘sleeps’

He wakes, on the other side

Of Plato’s Cave

And sees time and time again

Often in fragmented consciousness

The world that truly is

“Bigger on the ‘inside’”

“Smaller on the ‘outside’”

It’s like forever standing

Within a mirrored cylinder ring

Keeping faith to its seeming


Even though only

Reflections are being seen

Reflections of the

Geometry of love


Unseen beings




These and more

Floats around the exterior

Of this thin fabric of reality

Bumping into us occasionally

Letting us feel its obscured shape

But never witness its true property

Only through momentary slumber

When we open our minds eye

And peeks at the other side

When we drift away-

Unguarded by our perspective-

Through all of spacetime

And drift closer to the veil

As if through a plastic foil

Can we see and softly touch

The ‘matters’ of truth in life

See the wrinkles

And ripples in time?

That’s where runaway dreams

And forgotten past hide

You will see yours

And even all of mine

That’s why I can live

Again and again your happiness

And joys of mine

With near absolute clarity

Manifested through twinges

And longing

With the help of the night

That’s why

When the sleeper ‘wakes’

He can no longer

Bear this world of bright shadows

And must rush back

To the brilliant world

Under the dark sunlight

That's why

I leave the lies for the morning

And truth for the night

When you're weary of

My dazzling praises

You can dream among

The starry sentiments

Of my moonless sky

A Brief History of that Muse Song:

The weight of thoughts

We hold deep within

Gather and increase in mass

Till we’re beings of immense gravity

Attracted at the moment of first contact

Never letting go

Even through the unseeable distance

I can still feel your pull-

Feel time stretch into infinity

Feel nothing else within my hold-

From our fateful event horizon

Even though we’re both vessels

Of very little voices

We’re far from empty

We’re far from silent-

With every unspoken word-

Not let out to wander and


We bear the roaring wrath

Of neutron stars deep within

Our Soul

And such

Is our ‘Density’


I believe that

Names can physically

Mold a being

Without human intentions

As accidental drops of ink

Muddies the water

Yours follow the opposite

And being true to its essence

You are indeed eternally ‘PURE’

Pure, in the winter lakes

Of your soft pensive eyes

Color of the earth, the dust of existing

Pure, in the crescent

Of your laughing eyes

Hiding no sorrow

Dragging me along with you

When it descends


In the ripples of your soul

As I felt every drop

Seen in your dazzling smile

Unseen, in the dreamer’s dream

And I, indeed a dreamer

The ‘MOON’, the ‘STARS’, and


That radiates not

Within or without

Except under or carrying

Your light

If only I can be your moon

A source of comfort but

Only at your darkest

Never to steal your shine


I am merely a solitary bird

In love with the spotless lofty sky

I may praise it

And lament in its silence

But I can never caress it

Possess it or even

Comfort it

So it shall be

For even a storm of the sweetest dreams

Might taint the purity of a cloudless night
697 · Oct 2017
Be happy for me
Yue Wang Yitkbel Oct 2017
I want to bury my soul in your loneliness to spring a beautiful dandelion of your happiness.
697 · Sep 2019
Taste the Bitter then Sweet
Yue Wang Yitkbel Sep 2019

My words do not matter to Him
Just faith, love, and devotion
My words do not matter to me
Just eternal peace without condition

So why do I still write
And for whom to not listen
Constantly fearing inferiority
While aspiring total self-forgetfulness


I want to reap what is sown
Plant the seeds here,
But let it bloom yonder
Let me be content
To drink the bitter silence here
And taste the sweetness hereafter

I want to bask in the present sun
See the prospect of glory
But let it not shine for me here
Let me be content
To praise the wisdom of suffering, before
As an ordinary sunflower
And receive the everlasting warmth, beyond
Ever closer to the sun


I want the world to love all
As I want to be loved by Him
I want the world to accept itself
As I could never accept myself
With its scars, and flaws, and suffering
With more forgiveness for sinners
Than momentary praises for perfection

I look at the world as a mirror
Fading and scraped bare
By constant cleansing-
A looking glass stained by tears
And broken by hairline fractures
Will not distort the beauty of the
Seeker of obscured truth

But, a non-existent flawless mirror
Where the onlooker refuse to look
Will show nothing of merit
Truth, lies, or otherwise


O world, be not like me
The bard afraid of words
If you keep them to yourselves
Then Hear the silence reign

O world, be not like me
A sinner afraid of imperfections
If you pluck all petals with flaws
Then See a world full of stalks

O world, be not like me
The glutton with thin skin
If you don’t build up your calluses
How unbearably will it twinge


Now heed my plea

The lambs might have autonomy
But what wonder might lie beyond
The glen
What happens,
When in perfect harmony
The uncut wool smothers the sheep
And doom looms
When green turns to earth
Till it waned.


Soon, if I were to be chased
By the clouds of self or man
I will put my faith in the sun
I will lay bare my soul in the sun

For its Warmth,
    Calms the chilling winds of change
    All shadows conquered at dawn
    And at dusk
It yet guides,
    Lending light to the crescent moon
    Even at its bleakest a soothing sight
    And at its brightest
A mother’s love in the summer days
A father’s forgiveness in the winter nights


Fear not the petty scorn and envy of men
Cried I, the pettiest, most scornful, and envious
Of them all
Shame me not, for we are all lost
Let us find together,
The road timelessly traveled
Built for the mass, found by the few
Righteous, yet perilous
Rugged and overgrown
Darkened by the Sun
To give to it to reach the summit
Flesh and soul
Strength and breath
One day aching joyously
Having reached the height
To see the hidden valley of delight
Where we will finally
Taste the Bitter then Sweet
By: Yitkbel Yue Xing ****
Written September 17, 2019, from 17:24-19:07

Still reading Shelley, clearly still heavily inspired by my slow sips of his poetry, among others.
#love #fear #envy #forgiveness #mercy
Yue Wang Yitkbel Mar 2019
I must wander

Beyond the thinnest part

Of our inverted universe

As we are outside of living

Living the whole of a dream

While dreaming

Fragments of

The Mirror of


Truth is only to be felt

For we see

Only what we wanted to see

And think

Only what we wanted to think

But only feelings

From sparks of infatuation

To chasms of the deepest sorrow

Is authentic

In and of itself


Beyond our desperate

Need for control

And there

Beyond the veil

Of false possessions





The authentic truth



Beyond all thoughts

Rationality and


Merely an intense feeling


With the untamed feeling of me

Two branches of lightning

Bursting through pure darkness

Briefly revealing the

Landscape of our universe

With the collision

Of our pure

692 · Jan 2019
To You, With Silence
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jan 2019
The dearth of love
Invites me to praise it
Yet, in praising
I fill it with only emptiness

So I must counter it
Oppose it with silence
And hope
The sudden calm
Brings back the seeker
That has never dreamt of the sea
But is now questioning
Why has the ocean stopped
Its call.
Inspired by Harlon Rivers and Jesse Stillwater.
688 · Nov 2018
Yue Wang Yitkbel Nov 2018
I look for your shadow in every ray of light
Just another soft whisper before the hush.
Inspired by this one line poem:
I actually found this site through this very poet!
686 · Nov 2017
Permanent Impermanence
Yue Wang Yitkbel Nov 2017
I remain permanently unmoved
By the constant impermanence.
681 · Oct 2019
No Quiet for This Soul
Yue Wang Yitkbel Oct 2019
A void suddenly formed deep in the rolling sea
Calls for a deafening wave to take its place
And thus all these words I write to you
A thundering protest of the deserving silence

Sometimes, unconditional love comes at a price
An unfortunate price of utter undesirability
Ever quiet and misplaced, a bore and afraid
I come with such devotion till it's burdensome

You may have, like all, wished for a love that
Will always be there, never run away, without
Ever realizing the consequences of such a
Chasing and desperate devotion until you've

Swam in the ennui of this wide empty sea
An ocean without much scenery but always
Calling for you in the same nauseating waves
You must leave and find a landing place

How will you ever explain without mockery
The tattered fool that will always be there
To comfort you with an aching bare soul
Without ever needing anything back from you

Like they all say, the best must be chased
And yet just like the pebble to the gold
I'll be here for you till the time grows old
With your silence, bleeding, withering, fading

Again and again, in love with this pain
You're the lighthouse to my ocean
Ever trying to reach for your embrace
But always breaking and dying away
What pain it is to have dreams and expectations.
I had planned to read today,
Having no faith in the longevity of my words,
But there's no quiet for this soul.
The words writhe in the churning sea of my mind,
It overflows beyond my control!
And for what,
It's not divine, or unsaid
Written to one, unread by all.
Perhaps, as the glory lies within suffering,
This is my mission, to be
Loudly unheard, and still
Singing unrelentingly to all!
What is love, without patience in suffering,
What is suffering without pain?
There are truth and devotion in my lament,
A testament of my bearing the constant silence,
Yet still sing devotedly forever
For the suffering Nevermore.
No Quiet for This Soul
By: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
Date written: Friday, October 4, 2019 6:52 PM
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