the sweltering muse
ringing like crackling
shimmering hue
of pearls lost
of beaded consciousness

to look me in the eyes
pearl-less and cast
aside under the parent
orb of silver moon,

a violin careening,
weeping like the thrill
of dragon scales,
magnificent and noble
yet isolated in the rubble

harder to find a hand
about the fog and mildew
crumbling pieces of tragic
memories, reminiscence
of all the hours I wait

dwelling without haste
among the lone tree tops
see you on the dark night
with owls swaying in the blue expanse

again, once again
it's going to be tough on me
pearls withstanding beauty
and clarity,
scattered into the clutches
of oblivion

falling asleep in restless dreams
the day they scattered
bring back joy and happiness
when I find the will
to settle my shaking hands

to refine the beaded necklace

when a time comes around
people will continue to come and go
just learning how to shift
aside from the vanquishing sink hole,

when a time comes around
of ruffled hair streaming under sunlight
lingering thoughts floating
where ******* have touched,

when a time comes around
with sweet, beckoning ears
drinking in the chime
of morning sun rise and messy covers

when a time comes around
where a pocket of sunshine
unfolds, spilling all over
the bedside dresser, sheltering
our nightmares

when a time comes around
of late night strolls and twinkling lights
lazy rivers and soft jazz music
a time where I can smile
as if entranced in a dream

a lovely dream

just know,
        light footed boy
                     faint hearted girl,
glory morning dew
teared umbrella

bristling in the
fierce passion erupting like piano keys
          ignited by the spark
          of shared candles

dotting the palaces
         our maddening pursuit
                     love
                                      
                                           the soreness bristling
                                                on the bottom of my feet  
         my coarse voice
         and tired windpipes

                                                                                     my love for you ceased,
                                                                                        teared by the ricochet
                                                                                    of my failed daydreams

three times in a row
the settling frost

muffled body shakes
blinds folded shut

unlocked bedroom window
moths fluttering inside

lone body breathing
with warmth of sheets

I am tired
Tired

I tried to write two poems
In fact

About the reasons why

How I have not found
Someone I have been
Looking for

How it's so ******* exhausting
How temporary
My life has behold

Nothing is set in stone
But i would like
The feeling of security
With the chaos seething
Like a bile undertone

slight echo footfalls
fluttering escape of breath
cool cerulean breeze
gnarled tree leaning too keen
in the brilliance of the waning sun
black, scorched branches
twisted cruel trunk
crackling like struck obsidian
by the lightening rod of thought,
gifted with moving feet
shuffling in one direction
but to breach the swimming sky,
peeking closer
shadows careening towards
my feet, so I can't see
where I am stepping anymore,
a stone gargoyle
fixated like a barn owl
eroded eyes and mistaken beak
moss blanketing like heavy
screaming clouds,
this stone owl
imprisoned within the tree
the loveliest sight I could find,
it's almost night now
and the light is growing dimmer,
the slightest green buds
dwell on the withered branches,
yet the sun has past
the owl mistaken for a ghost
held within the throne
withered to bone
but I think the flowers
will grow like before,
the buds have swelled
night is falling
can I please sleep
at the trunk of this tree
so upon the breaking morrow
the sun will shine
and I can smile
when I look up
and see the buds
flower of such
humble desires

I love
           Mysteries
                            Books
                                     Open windows
                                                                Rooms
                                                                            Pizza
                                                                                      My friends
I love
           The internet
                              conversations
                                                     Paint
                                                              Art


I love
                                 The growth pains
                                                      Still nights
                                                                Thunderstorms
                                                                             Blue eyes
                                                                                           Shadows
                                                                                                      Morning light
I love
                This body
                              My mind
                                             The past
                                                               creating who
                                                                                         I am today
I love
                Mistakes
                                     Adventure
                                                         Oblivion
                                                                               My friends
                                                                                                    Family
I love
                                                           You
I love
                                                                                                               Me.

serenity encompassing the shy masks
masked marble stone with the sliver of gold
two slits and a mouth to taste
those withering syllables left decadently on shore

masks, masks drinking roaming with haste
jumbles of words unspoken and texts never sent
interiors slashed as desire gathered and clashed

how long can our masks endure to the last?

last sip of golden beams
quench the sunlight with aching feet
last time stepping out the auditorium door
I swear, you were a great actor amidst the despair
last time you'll lay your eyes into another
getting lost trying to comprehend the dots
the last stroke of fear eradicated the moment
the fastens are unclasped,

fall
     tumbling
                     flying
                               spinning
                                              exhilaration
                                                                ­   clarity
                                                         ­                     weightless
as the mask becomes of no more
something like vertigo,
sudden visions of peripheral miracles
and yearn to feel your own cheekbones

last night with my breath heaving ice
I dreamed of a palace towering so high
magnificent porcelain floors,
each tap of heels a vertigo
of ringing melodies upon shores,
marble white gleaming under
golden streaming sun,
the softest hue of gentle cerulean
kissed like shadows in the empty halls
vivid, startling red carpets muffling
the entrance to every doorway,
hidden diamonds of spruce floorboards
from the mothers of those elegance gnarls
swinging near the front porch,
I dreamt of a beautiful palace
empty but for the pounding in my chest
lingering on hilltop of some forgotten coast
with waves pounding and sleeping at will
wild meadows and daisies sang in the wind
lavender and pines smiled mystically,
the sky was blue, such a clear beautiful blue
I dreamt of this place,
with rooms cluttered of deepest desires
treasures of love, gems of happiness
stairwells to ambition and libraries of knowledge
studios to create and kitchens to splurge
yet I grew a faint as the sun began to smother
the castle walls were blood orange and deep yellow
now I could see the tremble of my shadow
I woke up to a startling start,
and tears rolled down as the plastic stars
glowed on my ceiling, the salivating fragrance
of fresh baked bread ringing with clarity  
I dreamt of palace where I could simply be
with my pleasures and splurges,
following heart's content to sing free
are all palaces really temporary?

dripping rose red
clung to the curves,
the hips and *******

laced backs peeking
to shoulder blades
and pinprick skin

echoing clasping heels
ripple of fine fabric
bouncing jazz music

dazzling yellow lights
bare neck and white teeth
arms tucked to the side

fiercely dazzling

a capsule, narrowing tombstones
engraved upon fine misty grass blades
yawning sun, mellow yolk yellow
gleaming across the hurt inflicted on
see the scars, the rugged trenched dug into dirt
sheared guardrails where the car
missed the next right turn,
logged trees weeping silently
invisible to the tuning in the pearls of our ears
a brisk morning with melodies singing
sweet blossoming lilies sticking to the breeze
like saturation sung harmony
visually like honey woven on cream cloth threads,
these tombstones behold pasts of great tragedy
yet what once welted deep hurt
in the hearts of young minds
and delinquent lovers
remain far into the enriches of worth,
no matter the pain struck lightening and cursed
finer mornings will spread its succulent kisses
of mildew honeydew and crisp morning sunny breaths

Never again will I change for anybody.

it's strange, strange that these syllables
shuddering in my head rebounds,
a eclipse of shivers and taunts,
fixated stares into the barrel of a gun
there are more than one way
to **** a person,
to annihilate everything
to which they belong
and be left with none,

just watch the way you step,
the words which linger
on the cusp of your lips,

beware your shoulders
shudder and accentuate
the tightness of your hips,

or a quick turn of your head
immersed, over-crowded
joints creaking heavy like lead

A pocket full of wishes scrounged,
From that jar hidden glistens,
Moss quilted over the with tight patterns
The way those words befallen like a tragic accident
Ridden of ecstasy, mirroring mirage scrubbed
Of the seedlings I planted in place of you,
And now the sun has weathered and water
Flooded the void crestfallen in my rib cage,
I see how ******* wrong I was,
The tree which have bloomed stands
Alien and distant, unlike the way I supposed to happen
These crisscrossing bones around my heart
Are not meant to be torn apart,
**** no, don’t you dare come in with a hammer
A key rests whisked away into oblivion
Maybe in that jar, a tiny glass jar
Hidden in rocks and soil,
Kisses of spring water and haze
Of pearly whispering fog,
Someplace far away
With the lid barely clutched to the lip
Roots have devoured the pretty lies
The glass slipped deep into the green earth,
So if you dare entire my life, dare step into this void
A void rattling, singing, cursing and barking of laughter
A void of paints and cold leftovers
A void of running feet and fleeting glances
A void bedridden of danger and ringing
Of the purest love and affection
To simply be, to breathe beyond the stitch of your sleeve,
I dare you, gather gander, smitten courageous one

a conversation in my head

It’s just a coincidence.
                                                              You sound more afraid than sure.
What defines us as the sane one?
The fact that you have voice in your head or that fact that I exist?
                                                                                   The fact that you exist.
And I’m not just a figment of your imagination.
                                                                           Then that makes me insane.
*Precisely. This is a slippery *****, my friend.

A second degree flight
Flown caution to the winds
Heaved from the lungs I’ve blown
In case the scrapers came crashing down
Those towers, see those towers
Far into the distance
Twinkling at the murmur of dusk
Sparkling with the ray of sun bright
A second degree estimation
To the gratification swelled on my tongue
My heart is tumbling, I swear it is
Those crisscrossing lines, paved lives
Changed minds and hesitant differences
Revolving affection and careless individuality
A Clementine held snugly in my palms,
It tasted so sweet and crisp,
Like the way the sky felt
Warm and orange on my eye lids
As I listened to the shift of a new beginning

Sometimes I don’t want to think
About the time you lost your shoes
And they flew in the air, the wind
Catching them and carrying them
Far away onto the road,
The way your socks soaked
On the wet pavement, you hair
Unruly and wielding sublime turbulence
I don’t want to dare recall
The stunning life sparked in the hearth
Of your eyes, there was so much flame
I think it could have lit the entire sky,
And with each swing of your head
Fire wood stashed blazed inside your head
Drinking in the present scenery
At the way the world seemed to be
Singing to you again,
And I’ll watch from afar, for I have run
In the opposite direction,
If too close, lightening will frighten
And bruise the sublime pearl of sky,
I’ll replace the succulent, gentle wind
As the heat which your head used to
Lay in my broken heap, perhaps
Far apart, we can coexist
Without ripping each other apart

my head has gone dizzy
remarkable flashes of serenity
drenched with the slightest shift
in my trade of comprehending
the slightest smirk hinted at the lips
blue eyes, whirlpools and tides
the drizzle of laughter and words
which spill and fly,
floating around in the atmosphere
three dimension folded and cut so smooth
not the slightest gap, complexion so simple
just to hear your thoughts ringing in the air
a pleasant annotation to the brightening horizon
a singing wind chime, strung with sea shells
that’s all I will let myself do,
to listen to the luminous chime

When you look at me I don’t want to be understood but strange to the touch, I don’t want to be an open book.
When you speak to me, I want my words to unfold like a riddle so that no one can ever hold the key.
But last winter I lost the key and I found it in the pocket of your jacket or underneath your pillow at night or next to your tapping keyboard, I lost the key to the walls I built to protect the tsunami from breaching.
Words rolled off like butter on toast and the honey just stuck to everything I spoke. My fingers hardened and curled into talons, so that everyone I touched I seemed to pierce their skin and penetrate their loneliness. Sorry if I have left a mess of scattered feathers, once so snowy white now dull grey clouds.
But yesterday I reached into my pocket and felt the key nestled so pleasantly.
So now when my talons pierce or my words stick, beware where you thrown your net. I might soar overhead, with feathers glistening and combing the air.
You can’t sight me anymore, but that’s the point. I don’t want people to look at me.
How can I possibly allow them to do so, if I can’t even see my own self?



but perhaps there is a spare,
a spare key

I have been around for a little while,
Skies have screeched an eternity of a mile
Tracing the paths into exile
On maps drawn on parchment,
Grease pencils smudging inky black recklessness,
That wonder bewitched my eyes in questioning,
Never able to get enough sleep
To wake every morning to dazzling dewy seascapes
Slumber with swirling scent of burning firewood,
Moss and grassy hilltops, a band of lost boys
Shivering with anticipation, a crew of stellar girls
Glistening salmon lips and unpainted complexions
I have been around a little while to know
My heart thumps to escape like pirates
Like those lovely, lovely pirates
Hunting for treasures beyond the wilted horizon

Flashes of serenity immersed
within vast extremities of
flashing,  vivid lights
sirens surpassing my
peripheral vision, a dizzing
mixture of loss and affection,  
tragedy regurgitated mounted
upon treasures hidden,
and right now I am
on that peak,
the stars glisten and moon shining
Words flirting and souls sharing
a single frame put on pause
in this ****** up world

a flutter of keys
chiming on the piano
beautiful, melting
fusion of melodies
warmth spreading
in that soreness
wedged in my chest,
tugging at the empty
gauge left aloof

just a bunch of kids standing in front of a white board
look, look closer, pay utmost interest in the direction of their gravity
syllables that sticks, muddy soles and sloppy shoe laces
pigtails and shaven head, bowl cuts and ponytails
a bunch of kids, ten years ago with crayons in their fists
where they colored their minds and drawn wonderful lines
yet as hours dawned and spawned broader collisions,
pencils gradually drew calluses and grew to quiver,
erase and replace, smaller and neater
in-between the lines where a finger is easier to place,
never in pen, the jet-black ink or purple lavender can stain
in pen the past cannot be rewritten
in pen they wrote their lives with finer attention
with pen, they weren’t afraid to hold onto
every past mistake and embrace someone they once knew
in pen, the bunch of kids filled the paper,
in pencil, the students were told nothing but to stay still
so here they are, standing before the white board
can’t you see their lines, the overlapping chaos
of pure, imaginative ingenuity
they wrote in permanent markers
for the entire audience to see

I don’t need life insurance
I need a life ignition

Where are the keys?

I see the pavement,
it's so close up ahead
can feel the engine revving
the cool, sweet wind
flickering past the window
or the headlights flickering
on the curving, wet concrete

I can taste it,
the salt in the air
can hear the music singing

I can touch it,
feel it,

I just need the keys.

Attempting to save myself
In this vast, scouring island
Mainland and archipelagos,
There must be room for me
On any continent
Foreign tongue, smooth and rolling
Startling realities, alters festering
With those candles lit and eyelashes picked
Dreams and wishes laid down to rest and die
But no worries, I’ll save myself
I have a paddle and boat
Sometimes the bitter dark waters surface,
And horizons gloom and tragedy thunders,
But either way I’ll survive
And circumnavigate the globe
Meeting others with paddles of their own
Searching for new horizons
A familiar shape of mountain range

Soft, glowing touch of iridescent blue
Gently caress the splintered skin
Stretched tightly around knuckles
Which wouldn’t give in,
I’ve been keeping my eyes open
Been bloodshot and shining
From the beauties and tragedies
Yearning, striving desire
Relentless tug underneath
Hidden door locks and silver keys
Not even your sound can wedge
Between what can truly be mine

Feeling chest heave
Not to cry in public

        I sometimes hate
        How emotional I am

Those words spat
A thousand daggers

       Why am I so
        sensitive?  

Fresh, frosted chocolate
Plate of dozen doughnuts

          Fat.

Catastrophic crosshatch
More red marks than pencil

         I’ll never pass.

Avoiding line of sight
Two souls elapsing.  

         When?

Thinking and breathing
a task sometimes overbearing

       *Because...

Run
Run, they say
                                                             ­                            Steady rhythm of feet
                                                                ­                             Lungs fighting and
                                                             ­                                   Sweat flying, toes
                                                            ­                            Curling on pavement.
Catapulting anxiety
Startling, shaking hands
Fingers nimble around the pencil.
Listen to music, soothing .
                                                               ­                                      Close the door
                                                                ­                                    Switch the lock
                                                            ­                            Hear its metallic click,
                                                          ­                                Ignore the pounding
                                                                ­                                 On the other side
                                                                ­               Just focus on what’s inside.
Withering inked pages
Spilled with syllables
Strung narratives singing
Of myths and fables.
                                                         ­                                     Heat, lips pressing
                                                        ­                            Hands sliding, touching
                                                        ­                                       Passion snatching
                                                       ­                           Peace of mind and breath
                                                          ­                                    Inexplicably away.
Bleaching white pixels
Computer screens,
Clicking consoles
Digital galaxies eating
Cast away human sanity.  
                                                                ­                         Wet, soaked sneakers
                                                        ­                     Stretching morning sunlight
                                                        ­                                              Dazzling dew
                                                             ­                                              Hurt lungs
                                                           ­                                        Tear-stung eyes
                                                            ­                                              Raw cheeks
                                                          ­                                           Grass and soil,
                                                                ­                                      Puddles recoil
                                                          ­                                    With every splash.
Run,
We all run
Run away
Run to our own
Remedies,
Those gems
Which allow
A breath of
*air

Steam spilling, white froths licking
Marble mantle pieces, stone white
Opaque ghosts swirling conspicuously,
Silently naught with disturbance and gloat
Humble in nature, the steam spills
From the open pours,
Streaming running water
spring, a delightful swing
slight melodies of sulfuric and mountain
flirting lavishly , emitting heat
an early morning bathe,
bright sunshine invades
sleeping shadows tinted cold
a chilling sensation humming
with that of the pool’s lip
--fluttering autumn leaves—
--cascading crystal flakes—
--rustling green trees—
--tickling cool rain—
The surface of the spring’s pool remains
It stirs with the slightest breath
Occupying stark bodies
Gleaming baby red
Washing away, cleansing a new day
As sunlight sparkles on the
Mirror surface