fazed, wandering the summer night
of ricocheting melodies,
orange infused and bouncing
as crickets shoot like ping pongs
and cicadas echo over
the green, rolling hills
pockets of light encased
within our laughter,
a cheek to cheek grin
a composition bestowed
of teetering vertigo
and unsettled dust,
the chaos rolls and crackles
plugging the ears,
snatching syllables,
eyes steel shut and we yell,
scream, crackle and smile,
our hammering hearts
closing in orbit

what can I do for you miss?

get me the *****
*out of this place

the best part of my day*
is picking up a stone
with the dirt still clinging
and the moss still glistening
like how the very grey clouds
nestles in and breathes without sound
this stone does something like that
and everyday it's a different stone
but still the dirt clings on
but of a varying kind
and the moss still glistens
which I hope is still mine  
I feel happy with the slight clap
of the stones in my pocket
yet the weight is becoming heavy
and I hope to bring them to the lake
before my love for them
*is outlived

a boy,
a man
some guy,
on a street corner
maybe with
iridescent eyes
or another
in library corners
walking past
a girl, red lipstick
gleaming shoes
or short chopped hair
and a pair of leather boots
all of us, an evolving constellation
with connected stars
yet no means
to every truly
touch and
sing

Gentle strumming guitar
Rolling waves
Melodies ringing like coral decor

the crinkle of eyes
the trickle of meaning
lost behind intention

the aching of smiles
not knowing how to keep
the laughter within

the warmth of presence
the buzz of music
and rhythm of feet

the sensation of feeling
the pool of thoughts
like a fluttering dream

the pearly glint of  moon
the rustle of leaves
the last breath before

sleeping

it's strange to be back
after days of sleeping
in the crevasses
of a secluded cave
of an inconceivable dream
under the streak of comets
which have showered me
with the wings of butterfly
to stop the paint,
to stop time
from dripping off the canvas
and out of context,
please, tragic one
the comet whispered
your time will come
in the parallel universe
I have saved just for you

How far will
We grow
Before we
Are fated
To part?

you are my partner in class
my partner in crime
my partner in sadness
my partner in happiness
my friend, my love
I know we have forged
a partnership in life
no, not like that
not the way that's thought to be so
but that genuine joy
of keeping one's company
adjoined at the heart
and dwelling at the part
one day you will marry
and live in the woods
as you wish to be so
and I will find my husband
and own a studio
cluttered with paints and books
and travel the world
but you will remain my most
beloved pen pal*
and we will laugh
*until our hearts grow sore

I stood in awe
in the most perplexing
silence which was not quite
like the trickle of water
but of a stunned recognition
of crackling thunder, of
electrifying energy rolling,
writhing like a bonfire
I stood, my chest thumping
like something of numbing euphoria*
as the dancing, dancing man
with passion blanketing him
and music pouring from his creation
forged a union, a marriage
between the living thing
of man and music
and I was nothing more
than an earth-shakened leaf
taken by a singing light
*dappling the sweet forest floor

slow, rolling grey hues*
smooth like obsidian
glancing over skin
shimmering under faint porcelain
cast visions over miles
lakes and blank hallways
****** up ways
to celebrate
the humming flesh
another torment
scorched the lovely rays
beating bird's wing
gentle soft touch
lost feathers to new years
not magnificent
just caught under
the weight of our sadness
Christmas lights
another sight,
hold like brothers
sisters under embrace
silent ways to hold
her
him
glass of bitter water
gather those tears
see how the gem
wedged in our throats
glimmers beautifully
when the sun and moon
shines at its most
the ocean quiets and stills
excavate the peace
buried by the storming hatred,
*sadness and guilt

A stolen pebble
Smooth malachite gleam
And the speckle of blood
Used to hurtle
Right in my direction
It grazed
But never bitten
The blood was never mine
Just blood rubbing from
The palm of your hands
I can tough out the pain
Which soon follows
Now hand me a bat
I'll show you
How to hit back

we become who we truly are
with the people who inspires us
to feel so much very
alive

perhaps by the fire
the body can ease
perhaps in the wind
the weight can cease
perhaps with earth
the runner can soar
perhaps with water
breath can become
once again

perhaps, perhaps*
each smile shining white
shining that wide, kingly grin
knocks down the brick
which preserves the small glade
of sprouts and flowers, of books and runners
perhaps, perhaps
the notes fluttering off the strings
harmonized like early morn~
a dawn of pinks and baby blues
of singing streams and lingering dew
perhaps, perhaps
*I would like that very much

You have to get busy
Pick it up, pick it up
The entrails will follow you
Where the red unfurls
And feel the gentleness spiraling
Like a moon
You have to get busy
Either too busy dying
Or too busy remembering
All the unfurling flames
Wilting in a aching compartment
Specially left behind
In the wake of another night

I refuse to be a filler*
Even if the room is all dark
and space retreats from corners
I am not an inbetween
of feelings and cat calls
so don't place me
in the remaining jigsaw
the edges won't fit
you must have shaven the curves
back before I sung with nerve
now I am jagged and anew
eroded by all the hurt
it's a new shape,  a new me
was I ever supposed to be
*part of your pieced story?

Haiku  

(courtesy of my baby brother, a.k.a Baby Ninja)

ninjas are awesome
so yes ninjas are awesome
ninjas are awesome

I know places*
don't ask for directions

be careful
I will let go
of the grip

don't ask me why
there is a road
and there is a place

I'm alone for now
so come, occupy my lonely hand
there are places
placed to fill

I do not know of a home
so don't imagine
*there is a way back

looking down upon us
a thousand wrinkles etched within
minds like deserts
earning for what is lost
and thoughts down too cold
to their time of older generations
their old teeth chastise our ways
the acceptance for gays
the respect of transsexuals
the admiration for their bravery
they are perfect in every way
brace for the hurt
words from the those
we look up to
the vinyl minds remain
as neglected as deserts
they remain secluded, a shell of ****
in rejection to adolescence spirit
they think so rude
we are just more vocal
more determined  
finding our place
in this cluster-**** we call society  
don't pretend
don't for a second
convince shallow arrays
merely blurry shadows
that you know what's best for us
we don't really know things for ourselves
still trying to figure out
if two plus two is really four
but only not to live
in past of your memories
you want to cast into ourselves
in a world of three dimensions
incoherently converted to six
don't try to influence our spirits
we are bolder than you think
beliefs are not blasphemy
stop comparing things to
the things used to be
its a new age
you are just caught
drifting taught on a string
behind a band wagon
riding for the stars
I'm tired and sick
of you telling me
what to do
your existence  
like plaster
new, mint condition
the skies are blue
yet as years take toll
you fall and crumble
in lack of ability
to adapt to new fertility
you will be replaced
and my biggest concern
is that I would become
just like you

At a very young age
I realized I was pocketed,
Rendered with vacancies
In these pockets, I’ve filled
With light—with companionship,
With family, with art and color
And adventures and foolishness
And regrets and difficulty
And confusion and dreams
And a whole lot of life

the stench of nail polish
a stinging layer of milky ****
keep the layers orthodox
they shall not mix
just like the feelings
we keep in our chest
sometimes they are beautiful
yet they still hurt
to breathe in too closely  
we try to stay
a far distance, that is
polish all the flaws
the compartments
we believe need
to suffocate and hide
cover them up
distract with a hue
a layer of hardening glue
so the breath in our chests
won't penetrate through

daunt, spun fast in sleek
of a respiratory gleam
of a momentum moment
in fast vivid sink
**** the tremor
and squander
away, away
still the vertebrate
and drink in
the reverberate sensation
calm the stuttering lurk
behind puckered lemon lips
a resolute dynamic
an opaque concentration
soaking through fabrics hung high
so the pollen can pool
and coat the white
woven thread
with glitters of gold
sweet and waxy
relative and warm
the pollen traces
across the threads
of white woven morning

if you exist,*
possibility
*I would like to know

The moon sways
Across the beaten sky,
And lonely it goes
The day has come by
And to show what it become
Light shafts upon the ground
Gently it glimmers
And my oh my the dark withers
With gnarls of curse
And hoots tearing its verse
Wonders of the younger
May have traveled to slumber
If cure the curious
Brimming of imagination
Yes they are reckless
Yet they capture the moment
Hidden wonders within thy flourish
Shall chance
Doubtless of others' chorus  
When the moon retires  
And the sun's pierce
Is taken to its knees  
The dark will soon expire
But not in vain it will flee
Because the hours  
Will skid across the
Icing sleek sky
Twittering and chirping
As blink of an eye
A powder of dust
The old will now
Rest in peace
As the youth's endless time
Starts to tick
Soon to rest, forever
In the dirt

our eyes are windows
to the things
within our entity

sometimes I speak in all uppercases
sometimes,  in a delicate row
of quiet lowercases,

sometimes, I speak
with two mixed in between
with a comma and a period,
or twenty exclamation marks
and three questions in return
and an heart emoji
smiley faces,
crying faces
and some trees to set the scene

and I wish during those
long, starry nights
I had more commas,
where the end of the sentence
can always turn itself around