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Henri Words Feb 2016
big bus box
running raining same pace
wet waste my day
daily deli life

job jobs jobless
le novo lap top
hp heavy pack
I am I be am

sun rise sun rice
live to lie down
games out of town

Jan 07, 2016
Henri Words Feb 2016
Bored living in the tombs
Those turned to names of cities
Where we live and visit until
Too many of them are carved on stones
Openly standing books
Echoing our names on the bills
Sent by devil or in Dave's name sometimes

Street signs, silent police?
Scary if you know they were those
Underground names now holding posters
Directing you to your tomb home
Until a square-meter palace is sold to you
These revolutionary thinking reformers
Who called themselves gravediggers

All names have to be digged out now 'cause
They are running short of lands to continue
Urbanization. Hear what they say:
You could die eternally but this cemetery
Can only be used for 70 years, legally
Your cinerary caskets will be displayed
In sky-high buildings, closer to the heavens

Lucky if yours is made of sandalwood
Carved and painted as Red Mansion where
You could have wonder-ful dreams
Your friends and enemies could smell
The phosphorous glowing in the wind

Feb 17, 2016
Henri Words Feb 2016
China tongue, yes dynasty of tongue
The taste of spicy or none
Welcome you home with eyes open round
Reminder of an oxidized hole of an accient coin
Looks original but didn't live long

Such accent of southerners
Occupied many streets in so called western cities
Representing an old fashioned society not sure if ever existed
A place all Chinese visitors must go
Looking forward to a city but it is just
A seat in a city
Cult of a culture
Architech out of an architecture

Everyone appreciated the precooked food
The fish was alive a week ago
Knowing he had to live till today
They even served tea
Tears of their parents
Who got nothing to eat
After survived sixty days in a small boat
Poor memories served
When they built this
China tongue

And now
A mainlander like me
Trying to take it down prior to
New year eve of the Young

Feb 18, 2015
Henri Words Feb 2016
it doesn't mean anything
the moment you try to put
the first word down
it loses its meaning to
a box you belong
the word is wordless even when
you sing, look at those
wordless travellers crossing
over same corner same time each day
the web they are weaving with steps called world, a divided word if you've  noticed

meaningless
game of words you work on
poems jump out of it and gone
coincidence sounds a wise one throws queries in a bin which contains stuff called food and fruits a while ago when they were still trying to grow as they were under the sun

poets look like relatives of poems
but thieves of the wordless pieces
those critics stuffed their mouths with poetic swears are their truly
enemyful friends with whom they split bills of love and hack fairly

Dec 4, 2015
Henri Words Feb 2016
my mind didn't realize
when my body fell
off the street
continued a further distance until
attached to a fiddle
winding in between the strings
were lines dancing on a page
with two hands holding
my awakening
still

Mar 26, 2015
Henri Words Feb 2016
I move into this city
Carrying different parts of myself
In a suit, not yet a case
I plant myself in places I feel safe
As planned
Until the whole city
Familiarizes with me

Feb 17, 2015
Henri Words Feb 2016
Another feast, festival
A party made national
****** red colors as always
Year of the monkey
King welcomed home
Cheer up, nay, I am fired up
By fireworks and deadly smoke
Smog you put up
With lies

The First Generation shout out love
For snow, as beauties
Covering all those dirt till
Very end of the party
That's enough, good enough
Sick though happy
Dyeing but long live
Eternity of a type
You know it

Feb 11, 2016

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