I sit in a place of concrete corners
Of spilling sunlight brimming poignantly
As the leaves go about swimming
On etchings of passing neighboring ghosts

The air cool to my cheek
And the sky baby blue in yawn
I sit in a place of concrete corners
Surrounded by elements my mother brought upon

See the nurture of her hands
The dew drops which bead the petals
The butterflies which flutter upon sunlight demand
And the soil which seeps in beckon to bite of metal  

Lonely I sit, surrounded by granite shavings
And a wandering mind which refuses to sink
I twist my fingers saturated with craving
For the nurture of her words and love without despite

The thickness building at the throat
And breathing spiraling
So that my head starts spinning
Realizing I have forgotten my coat

The room seethes of chilly air
I hate to be here right now
Staring at the broken pieces
Leaving only me to collect

Terrified to dare touch the shiny china
Shattered smiles and broken ribs
I simply stare at the spilled tea leaves
And feel the heat slowly fade

Staring at the broken memories
Terrified, so I close me eyes
How easy it is to sit with such hate
Feeling it's better if I just fade away

Swirling, swirling echoes of greens
Gem stones shining like
A lonesome star
Magnificently beating
Evoking some sort of light

One can never pass
The cry of those
Left behind in their own graves
He was like a ghost
Shimmering slightly
Whistling an empty tune
While climbing the chimneytops
To heaven's embrace
Racing to never catch his breath

Her nimble smile fluttering
Behind the iron ivory wrought gates
Under the chiming calls,
Crying beautifully she wonders
Closer to the music
Where her fingers could finally
Strike the light of dawn

The grey wept all around me
As my feet sunk into cement
I clawed and fought,
Yet the stone reflected cynically

Soon my soul began to welt
As thoughts stood rigidly still
I froze glaring at the shell
Which have enveloped me  

The grey the began to pelt
And the cement cracked before my feet
For the clouds began to bleed
Like rain weeping from the sky

tectonic beams of golden rays
sweltering showers of sunsets say
beckon, really, sprouting delicate fingers
catch me
and I sink in the powdery white sand
toes slipping under chilly frothy seas
a striking reminiscent glint into fray
music resounding in ear drums fractured
pieces scattered by the sound of their laughter
chase after the receding glimpse
feeling the love sprouting from counting
the time takes flight across the seas
as if there is no tomorrow to seize
sprint, scream into the petrifying waters
the waves crash to your knees
threatening to buckle from underneath
it's now kissing your hips
and swallowing the tenderness
of my throat,
thrash hands into the light
the sinking sun, glistening blood orange, bites
its ghost glistening on the binding waves
catch me to treasure these figments you call yours
and maybe I can't swim fast enough
the ocean swallowing me whole
and this will haunt me forever
knowing what I once had
will never forever be mine

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

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

Crackling, still sheet
Of coffee stained paper
The ink scribbled
Smudged, leaving
A hazy blue residue
The fragrance floats, pleasantly
With this coffee stained note
It rings with truth
Syllables stained
With coffee beans
And laughter

There cannot be any such thing as coincidence
I dare not to believe it
Our life is so much special without it
and things don't just happen
like the one chance of a midnight stroll
the melody of crickets and feet cold on the concrete
like the breath of a shuffling leaves
leading me to a doorstep
no, there cannot be coincidences
things don't just happen
and I rest better knowing, perhaps
my life isn't wondering so aimless

sleeping snugged in the crook
where sunlight beams without retrospect
a promise chafing while the tempest surges
scouring the hillside where mountains climb nigh

a moments breath held askew
salmon pink and beading mildew
meeting to cool the burning wound
as howl made flesh and skin crawl

just promised, a promise chastened
in a wooden oak chocolate box
buried in the steep ribcage of the earth
where the mind begins to lurk

feel the hand tremble to life
the awesome power, impeccable brilliance
sloping figures roughed into the earth
giving into the imagination of another night

and here, come along here
where the brain is turned ripe
and light gives way to blooming forage
never to be left alone

come along here

a blazing red ****
and flaming red hair
the music bashed
bones rattled and lips preyed in chances
we sang in the electrified night
tonight, our chorus belongs
to our sights
reflected by the drops
we call classified rejects

feet stampede
hands praised in air
a tangible element
a tangible chorus
the melodies arctic
as voices run coarse

a sea of fists saluting
the red **** a humble ferocity
a single note prances
washes over a thousand eardrums
as that chorus, a thunderous clash

the heart of sound
thumps against the cage in our chests  
wanting to break
claw out of cynical throats
and as sweat trickles down our bodies
sound plasters to our skin

lights flash
a mesmerizing aurora gone rogue
like cameras of new and few
capturing the moment
of raw ethnicity
of our younger generation
in all of its rebellious reasoning

an isle of blinded birds
walked before the red ****
searching for that truce
that happy medium
away from skeptics of wrinkled faces
vessels carrying our souls
without capacity written in stone

and as that red **** thrashed
a marvelous sight of beauty
for once the generation
a thousand demographics
a thousand thoughts and dreams
tonight, we come as one
unified as winds carry us on
we will sing, we will purge
we are the younger generation

and we will remain as we are

two opaque eyes
stared in front of me
like two pearly moons
they swirled in milky ways
as I realized
they were what have become of me

quickly, I ****** my arms out
morning spring dew fluttering in
through these cracks of conformity
the piercing chilly wind
woke the life once of me

I consume the daily bouts
Collective hours spent
Immersed in poetry
scrolling through memory
Images of such beauty
sneak peek in someone else's dream
lost behind words
stuck behind layers of clothes
Concealing that screaming part of me
it all builds
until that sweet spot flickers on
in that pool of artistic insanity
I follow the tug
to the stench of turpentine
and glisten of hues
I can feel it as I speak
that urge to spill
every part of me

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

an embellished conversation, words running catastrophe
the words sink fast, fast, fast
swollen with the stench
and gleaming with utter redness
pounding of head, shake to the left
only to glimpse the silver opal
called the moon
slip behind the ridge of mountains,
all these conversations
words translated without comprehension
slaughtered, spat out, the syllables
run rampant
a million times a day
there are two people having
a conversation
I wonder what they saying
I wonder if they mean
anything

ponder why the iridescent eyes
possibly cannot derive
of such great sights,
soar into vast shuddering heights
claw away the leafs which scatter
blinding like red and orange kites
spotting the thunderstorm
which lightening refuse to strike
nestle under the skies gone restless
a little unsteady in the heart
in a place which speaks to me like art
with all the visions,
hues and textures, movement without numbers,
a timeless monologue
but of the cracking paint
fat over lean they always say
just remember never to layer
the thin over the strong
you would just end up cracking
now what is the painting
the red kite and thunderstorm
what does that really mean now

Sitting crowded where eyes fear to meet,
I've been told to never stop imagining
Where the soul can hum like the buzz of a hummingbird
and touch operates with inspiration of its own

Sitting in a crowded square, everyone speaks
Yet their speech is tangled, misshapen as it crumbles
As words fly off their lips with sickly colors,
bubblegum pink and neon green and pavement grey

Where I sit, in the crowd, a sea of compartmentalized people
Where hypocrisy is glued to their faces, reeking of hunger
And thoughts ****, bounce like chaos off the walls
No one really seems to care to glance what hits them

Where I sit there is no one else at the table
So I crack open the window and sunlight beams in
With a great flash the bouncing thoughts could breathe  
And eyes begin to see the colors which have been buried in their hearts

in the blank blue
eyes vacant
cast in ghostly hues
did I really know you
are you really willing
this to crumble
into nothing

stretched, widening grins
plastered in red lipstick
and a smirk beloved
clapping heels and twirling skirts.

spilling red wine soaked into cloth
oozing smell of a cheeses and wood,
of cobblestone streets and cracking walls,

laughter, trickling down the brisk night air
the alleyway tight and sparkling,
the night alive with an affair
between moon and cuisine,
between human and love