My voice is a wall of glass
On the both side of the wall it's all the same

The roof is consisted of umbrella-shaped beams
The world is an embroidered web
I'm a spider that don't spew silk
cling on to intertwining iron bars
Accidentally chocked my fly to death
Buried it in the oblivion sky

Fed on chitchat
I'm now becoming a skinny,
wind up bird.

I can’t come to you for my pain in the throat

But I can for the pain in my soul.

Perception is your prescription

Somehow I took too many dose

My pore my nostrils

Inflated with the onrush of ecstasy

It’s mistaken,

Curiosity should be the cure.

I see Thoreau as a token
You and my airplane ticket.

I never get it why you only declare your love for Thoreau
Instead of something darker, Hunter S Thompson,Marijuana
Or me.

Traveling in Denmark now, I guess you'll eventually head to the Netherlands.
Where your true colors shine through your eye socket.

Oh, so I still admire you
Dreaming of having a walk with you beside Walden
Having Arizona ice tea in the dessert

I beg Thoreau to win me an airplane ticket to
The unknown

When you like somebody so much but you don't know how to tell him,
When you are not sure about what you feel.
When you want to ask him to stay longer but he has to pick up his mom.
When you can't hide the disappointment on your face.
But he said that this soon shall pass.

When he said he was attracted to you
When he hugs you and buries his face in your hair,
When he looks at you with his baby blues so clear
When he laughs with you
When he listens so attentively when you talk
The world is filled with colors

When you knew it was coming
But you thought you could dodge it
When he sat down and said sorry.

When he texts you, When he said he would text you
When he talks with modal auxiliary verbs.
When he tells you his family history.
When I see his eyes brighten
When I think I am falling but don't know his side of story.
are all fragments of our memories.

When he said it's still beautiful to leave when you have developed feelings.

Remember me when you leave.

A pivot, A ******, A watershed
Been miserably waiting for dawn in my head
Then the day came
A day my mismatch soul and body met
I fed on your words and voices
Wolf down everything from you and store them up
Taking mental snapshot in the dark
And prepare myself for yet another brutal week
I fed on tasty food and a good mood
Treat myself with something tangible
Glutton is never a sin for me
I fed on fantasies.

The infatuating smile you got
On this spring day.
Capricious like you, London.

I can't stop myself from
Stumbling back to you.

The things unsaid, the poems unread
A thin lipped man like you, full beard suits you the best.

Ah, the beard,dotted with white snow flakes
my hearts skips for this fickle spring day.

It's not even romantic
But I'm going to write a poem of every boy I met.Not romantic,
It's not that I had met a lot of men.

On that morning
you played ukulele,
I sang along with the lyrics
Creep, Blur,anything

The morning light shined through your squinted eyes
I can still see the dust swirling, dancing in front of the sun-bathed face of yours.
Naive,friendly,happily
We were singing to each other
The other two are non-existence.

You are so warm, comfortable to be around with
A Belarusian boy ,aspiring to speak good Chinese.
You paint, you cooked and made desserts
Always at ease at hitchhiking
through Kazakhstan and China

I felt that you secretly want to try to escape from what you had
from Belarus to Czech, then to this mysterious Eastern world, a bit communist.
And then to Taiwan.

This is for you Ilya, a friend for only a day and night.
You're too delicate for me to handle as you have
skin like milk and heart of seven seas
Smile like a 5 year old in a swing.

Winter snow, crispy leaves in fall
It's you it's him but none are my business

Love , hate and remorse
Weeks, months and years
Irretrievable moments we own

The syllables in my throat
The words dangling by my lips

Wind of fall, twirling leaves
The thoughts dancing as we stroll down the road

Spring blossom, lingering cold and chunky coat
Remnant snow, rosy glow and kids on the Mall

You are my most ridiculous romance

Love, hate and remorse .

It almost feels like summer,
breeze at the dusk, killing mosquitoes.
It feels like
Taking a stroll on National Mall,
On a summer night in front of Lincoln Memorial.
Playing Frisbee riding bike
On the meadow in front of the Capitol.

My summer in the capital
With you, him and her and them and myself alone

It feels like the humidity in the swamp, with jazz playing in the background
It smells like crab cake and french toast, out from the diners I frequent
It looks like the summer sky, cloudless, your eyes

The meadow the ducks, summer dress and birkenstock.
Brunch, breeze and bike, followed by more bike rides along the riverfront.

Sitting on the marble stairs of the Supreme Court
Dipping toes in Reflection Pool

Summer in D.C. oh how I much do I miss you and adore
Summer is a state of mind and so does love
But you never fail to give me the feelings of those above.xxoo

I looked at you with my misty eyes

Blurry minds and lingering thoughts.

Words don’t get through

They’re just syllables.

Poems are means to get to you

They serve as the path to eternity

I rue not to speak up again and again.

Blaming myself for things I haven’t done.

What the hell
When I have heaven in my arms?

I see Blake, I see Plath
I see the bike next to the block

Am I good?at your puns?
Spotting these metaphors and sensing
your lust
The Devil  himself between these mellowing thighs
Oh, He looked a lot like you Sean.

Undress not your self
But your gown
For me once
Disarm these plausibilities
I know where you're from

They say boys like nice girl
Do you?
I assume you like it somewhere in between
But tilt to bad a little bit
Just like the other day when I was choosing between
Black and White lingerie
Black wins
You blushed when mentioning that thing
But I saw you staring at those
Legs.Literature is your camouflage
Mini skirts are your sanctuary

They say blue- eyed people are smarter
Are you?
I have brown ones but I bet I could still
Make you a fool

I don’t really love them,

They are tools to hide myself from maturity

Today I split them aside

Now there’s a brand new me

Facing you with more sensuality

More biting fingers

and more contemplating

I feel like I could be everything,

your almost-married partner

The angel in the house

Or sweetheart from college.

Mr.Strickland reminds me of you.
If I were Blanche, I would do what she did too.
Like a sophisticated beast
Howling in the territory of yours
So primitive and so civilized.
In a cocoon weaved of solitude
Poor Blanche throws herself in the abyss
Swoon over your charm,
But you are lured by the Moon.

Last Christmas I told you''Merry Christmas" on this staircase
With my embroidery red dress and you as a Krampus

This year I am still on this staircase
In my green sweater
and it's drizzling outside

Tonight I will have a Tex-Mex party with all my friends
And my lomo instant
Where are you my dear dear friend

Will we ever meet again?
Where or When?
In what year and where?

What should I do when I miss you?
Well,I keep on missing.
I go back to the very first day we met 
Savor and replay every words you said.

What should I do?
Sure I can tell you,you'll always reply quickly, but it's just I'm not ready for
your answer yet.

Yeah I remember every single words you said.
Yeah I think about our future every night in bed.
I always want to ask you when
That time you asked"do you mean you want to be my girlfriend"
What would you say if I said yes?

And what should I do when I miss you?
Yeah I could have some tea , go to a movie or do a self analysis
But if I don't keep on missing you ,
Who else can I miss?

Neon light flickers
Moist of April wind bothers
A dog walks by my side

I like the night here
Oozing with anticipation
Quiet and exclusive
Almost like a sanctuary

For me and my shadow
Singing,thinking,expecting that
There might be another apparition approaching

Hey Spanish boy
Sapphire blue, doe-eyed
Maybe it's love at first sight
Button nose, cherry lips
Head of curls and voice of honey.(Too cheesy, almost like a nursery rhyme)

I already have certain years
that constitute my life
CT, MA to NY

All the tiny things I did
Shape me into this version of me
Writing on a laptop at night

Yes, I feel like
I have seen enough things
Done a lot, good at being broken- hearted
Maybe could've broken more hearts.

Truth is, probably not.
I learn to accept fate as they come
Yes, sometimes I try to veer it towards the way I want

But life is never about
Achieving what you want
Rather, use the things you got
And turn it into everlasting , mesmerizing
Splendid sparks.

Am I cheesy being only 26?
Or you're sneering at me,
Ha you're not that young?

I look up for a sign and an inspirational quote
To only see myself in the mirror smiling back
and the past ghosts at the end of the tunnel

He said he does not want a relationship
I said I don't want my future baby to have ugly teeth
He said he will marry me for a million
But I said I don't want our baby to go to Harvard
He said, ***** Harvard!What about Princeton?

What thought I have of you now, my love
As I quietly eating pho alone.
On the brink of light and shadow?

I thought I saw Whitman.
Oh, it's just you wearing beard again,full
The way I love the most.

As  I quietly eating pho alone,
Adorable babies parading by with their genuine smile and
Dimples in those little fat hands
Whitman takes the seat in front of me
"You should stop listening to Captain's words"

It was in Rome
You guys got the table(cade,nevin)
So we stood there
Till you asked us if we'd like to join

Sure I said so
awkward first cause you somehow look like Ryan Gosling(no you look better, RG has never been my type)
Blue eyed boy from Iowa
Strangely enough, my bedtime T-shirt says Iowa hawkeyes

We talked bout beer ,Shandy, Greek islands ,Prague,Bristol and Iowa. Why should I know?
then you turned to me
Hey, fun fact, do you know the British first sounds like American?
Why should I know?Why did you say so?
But that was the most intimating thing on the table.

Strangely enough, you only asked my name when you left, and everything was left in Rome.

There’s no place, for you

To land a hand

Even when I’m desperate

No place for your propaganda,

Because I’ve already been brainwashed by

All your ideology of Beat generation

You made it , congratulation, but you should ask:

How do I know find out about your scheme?

Well, you teach me on thing:

Inscrutability leads to plausibility.

Sean, crystal blue

Sean, misty hue

Sean, delicate dew

Sean, eternal muse

fragrant than frankincense

assuaging than myrrh

Dearer than gold.

Before I know you
You are already there,de facto
But to me, you didn't exist

Now I know you
You know me
We coexist

But before you know me
I was't even there in your mentality

We are both present and absent from reality
It all boils down to quantum mechanics.

2 days and 6 hours are all the time we left.

While you’re striding in time,

I got left 25 years behind.

Doing math here isn’t going to do me any good

As long as your beard stays prickly.

Now it is all gone

I can’t tell if the time is moving on.

How many is a few? According to an online forum, it means 2-3 .So here I go
Typhoon hits Taiwan today, so I can’t go anywhere but stay at home all day reading and watching movie (Wild Tales). I think should start reading Swann’s Way again. I was quite interested in Proust in my junior year, cause one time my ex said something I called ‘words of wisdom’ ,which echoed with Proust’s words about sleeping. Maybe they are completely unrelated, but while reading Proust I was unconsciously analyzing the reading in Proust’s way: comparing someone I know in real life with the characters in the book; or maybe I was just putting on airs by showing that I know the (far-fetched) relation between what ******* my ex said and Proust’s words… The wind is getting stronger and stronger now and I am wondering where you are. On this lame typhoon day I’m suffocated by the boredom and humidity. I call it poetic nothingness.

So, it all turns out to be a loop

William Burroughs , Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac

Your a ****** for disorderness

God ******, anger, emotion.

But you just cover them up with Paris Hilton jokes

Forever on the road, always ready to go

Ginsberg as my birthday gift, T.S. Eliot as my memory.

Today I found out not every encounter counts.
It is merely made up of  accidental meets.

We beautify it so that it becomes legendary,
As if life itself isn't.

Is it me or everybody that are too obsessed with
So called meant to be?

Encounter only counts if it is to be told,
For decades, for century.

My baby is back from Washington

But my heart is no longer intact

One is his;the other belongs to Luis

Oh, How could I?

Luis is prudent, you are a dreamer

Luis is younger, you are older

Luis is sincere, you are shy

You both has blue eyes.

Luis speaks my language, you only speak English

Luis is a Bachelor, you are a Doctor

Luis is shorter.You are both slim.

Luis is more serious, you are more humorous

You are both of high integrity .

But Luis is my love at first sight, you said(and play Tai Chi)(a good catch)

But MSB is your true love, remember?(and a poet and bass player)

Luis is too serious. MSB is too old for your age.

Luis is a Spanish that never says”Te Quiero”(how come?);

MSB is an American that only rides bicycle

It was winter of 16'
I met a boy in the land of Mary,
We went on our first date in the diner,
With my boy, boy from Detroit.

We shared an omelette, he put on extra ketchup
A scene I'll keep reminiscing.
We talked and laughed, as if no one's there
Suddenly I felt something so familiar
On the way to his car, I asked if he's cold
He said, No I'm fine, I am from Detroit.

In his car to the movie, in downtown Washington, D.C.
The movie is  called Manchester by the sea
I looked at him while he talked about how his parents met in Annapolis.
My first blue eyed boy, oh Michael from Detroit.

He said that he would leave, in the month of February
To China, to pursuit his dreams.
I said ,it's fine, it's not like I am looking for a relationship.
Little did I know, I will fall for this boy from Detroit.

It was winter of 16', we always liked to have some ice cream
Wandering in the city of the district
Sometimes we didn't, sometimes we did
Know where the street is taking us to
We may stand in the cold, try to figure out which way to go
But with him I'd never get lost.

My boy from Detroit, it was never a fling
but why are there so many" what we could have been"?
Before you left, you asked my when do I know,
When do I know that I have feelings for you?
Well I guess it was the moment I unexpectedly agreed
to go to a movie with you after dinner
In your black Ford on a late Friday night

It was winter of 16'
We are both at the crossroad,not knowing where life
Would take us to
But we will be fine, after some time
We will meet again without tears in my eyes.
This is for you, Mike
Oh my boy from Detroit

When the day come,I would gladly
Change my last name to Olevnik.

You are a poet, a musician and everything

When you smile it’s sonnet 18

When you frown it’s dark ambient to me.

When you pause and bury your head in the book

I would caress your hair like zither

Sing an ode to your soul

Your pale long fingers, fragile and bossy

Manipulate strings and words and minds easily

Slap me, pop me and shape me please.

I wanna  be your cold stone girl,
The one you not only flirt but order a banana flavor for.

The thought of  you going to other cold stone
without me there frowning upon your choice
could **** me even in the city I love the most.

While we're both chasing our own dreams
I'll always remember you said
"Who knows what will happen,it's a small world"

I wanna be your cold stone girl,
The one that always greets you with a smile.
If you cannot find any cold stone you like
in  Nanjing, don't worry
I'm always up for ice cream in the cold

In February, you are off to my city
I secretly wish you won't for fall any cold stone girls
that giggle at your corny  jokes

I wanna be your cold stone girl,
and keep you company
While we both sail around the world.

10 months sounds like a long period of time,but
it's a small world after all.
When we fulfill that unknown dreams of our own
Meet me again in the cold stone,
for I will always be, your cold stone girl.

I'm going to write a sonnet

About love, desperate attempt and jealousy

He walks like wind, wind from Grand Canyon

He talks like honey, honey sweeter than Canaan

His brows spread like hawk

His eyes streams like spring brook

What do I love about him?

Oh, nothing particularly

Maybe it's the way he listens

How his face glows with glistens

Maybe it's his passion

Enlighten my dark age prison

O captain My captain, sail me through tempest amid my heart

Guide me through the time we are apart

You tied me up in this bed of yours,

your pile of books, your labyrinth

I tried to escape, but the rope only cuts in.

Deeper and deeper as my tears get sweeter and sweeter

I kissed you once on your lips

twice on your wounded soul

And you give me the carnal embrace.

I painted my nails ultraviolet, color of the year
Sitting at my desk

Thinking about you, I read some books
Mark went by and asked how was my New Year?

"I went to watch fireworks", which wasn't true
he said, "I don't think you'll come to my neighborhood"

Staring at the monitor, thinking about you.
It is only 20 degree, I shouldn't go out to get lunch.
But I could paint my nails ultraviolet.

Got off work early, I carry the basket that I use to put my lunchbox in.
You're still in salt lake city,so I went for a mani,
and paint my nails ultraviolet

I cannot say I miss you. Because I never do.
From time to time,
you show up in the back of my mind.
I love poems
As I love you.
I know what I wrote are not poems at all.
But who to say that you are real?
I love you but I hate you
In a sense that you are
Untouchable.
As I like cinnamon.
How many times I've dreamed about you
In my dreams, there is only one permanent scene
Your holographic voice penetrating my fragile mind
Your wisdom dissolves into this dull water of my psyche
Like glitters fluttering,falling in a Christmas crystal ball.

Love letter to Rome:You have always been,and always will be my favorite city. Grand and magnificent like you,somehow you like me back.So many people have been desperately trying to approach you but I know they have failed.I selfishly know that I am the one for you even though you have thousands of mistresses who would like to throw their coins away in Fontana di Trevi and wait for hours to get into Vatican city.But I,standing in front of you can say that I am the luckiest,because I feel you through touches,winds,cobblestone roads,the roads to your past,and the people you nurtured.Like you,they took me in generously,they reach out,they communicate with me and embrace me.Rome,you may be everyone's heartthrob,you may be compared with thousands of glamorous cities,but don't forget I am the one who's always here praising you and adoring you for eternity.

Paddling through this vastness

I look at the ripples I made.

Floating and whirling,

Clanking and Clinking

Shelley, Wordsworth and Blake.

In the middle of the tranquility

I plunged into the blue

Oh, Arizona sun, you blinds me.

We are 9 miles away from D.C.,
the eye of the storm on the twentieth.

The suburbia love we had,
storm- before- the -calm  kind of meeting we had on this chaotic day.

9 miles away is the city we love
It is a refuge for our boredom and our doomed relationship
On the metro ride, on the E street and somewhere near Farragut West
We watched small budget movies, had ice cream or playing with each others' hands fondly.

We are several blocks away from all the barricades,
So why don't we get in closer and go to Chinatown Coffee
and then wandering down the H street.

In the suburb,  I do not feel peace,
Because the storm is coming.
I'd rather go in the eye of the storm,with you
Where you fell for me.

This Capital love of ours , on the outskirts of D.C.
Where in a perfect world we would both live in,
like last time you told me on the way to E street.

Heading to Italy tomorrow
For years, I've been waiting for this days to come
And I'm going to do what I've done in my dreams for thousand times: kiss the land like Pope when I land on the majestic land with gratefulness and humbleness
oh, Italia, shivering with excitement now,
don't belittle me, for I am one of the suckers for your charm.

When will I see you again?
It may be this fall or many years after.

When we reunite,
I want to take the metro with you to D.C. again
Just like we did last winter minus our bulky attire
We would still converse fondly with the volume that
The old man frown upon but can't complain.
We would still intertwine our fingers affectionately , and you would still rest your hand on my lap.
But this time,I'll put my head on your shoulder.

When I see you again,
I'll take you to Ted's Bulletin
They have the best brunch in town
You would still add some extra ketchup on your omelette,
We would still order something to share.
But this time you're not in the rush to head back.

When I see you again,
We should go to Cuba and some tropical isalnds.
To Italy and Spain
I'll introduce you to Michele,
My Italian friend.


When I see you again,
We could go to Baltimore,but no
This time I'm not here for Oriole's game.

When we reunite,
We would do everything,
But this time,
We will fall in love with each other and
No one,no one is leaving again.

My love,

I love you for being pure, pure like a breath of fresh air in a sizzling day

I love you for being innocent, innocent like a baby just born

I love your grandeur ,stands like a tree yet speaks like silk

I love your wisdom,witted and cheerful.

I love your halo, shining with thy glow.

I can’t imagine the days without you, my muse and my bread

Farewell, Farewell.

If I met you 20 years ago
I would not even lay my eyes on you
But I could
Picture the younger you with me
Easily
I frown on
Your 80's acid shirt, Kenny G hair
But I can still trace the image of you between your brows
Unswerving eyes and lips
If I met you 20 years ago
You would had fallen for me
I am so sure, because your eyes tell me

Summer came , summer goes
The heat shrouding still
I abhor the upcoming cold
Which deprives my
Joy,vigorousness and skimpy shorts

I'll have to wait for another year to
Cautiously bathe myself in the sunlight
While you skip dipping in Adriatic sea

Oh, the Sun in Zagreb,
You
Greeting summer into your doorsteps
Stealing golden ray to embellish the handcrafted box you made

Autumn comes and it will go
Fear not for the winter but for my brewing hope.

You show up like phantom
In the night.

Over explanation,over zealous,over my head.

You being you,
I change with
weather,age and where you locate

I find your address,Eastlake
In your single apartment
I see you there in front of your walnut desk
with your lips sternly tight

Hey Joe
Inspired by Angels in America.

Oh Joe,oh Joe, I wish you’d have known,

Blue eyed boy, hair of gold

Where does your heart belong?

I love you dearly, and you love me so

Maybe we can pray the problem away

About our lukewarm ***

I should stop hallucinating,

Or are you in my imagination?

I still love you, gay or straight,

It’s too much for me to take.

The night you ran away with some random guy you met,

You are so in love again

It’s been three weeks and now you’re back

Begging me to stay

I wish I could be ruthless, and I did this time

"I will, but not now" I said.

Oh Ivan , I see you everywhere.
From here, there and anywhere.
A John, A Giovanni
I see you in words, in rhythms and the beam of sunlight
I see you in the sheer cold

With a name so usual, bears a smear of mystery
Saint,celebrity and nobody
You walk down the street wishing
you could be someone else
With this name you are everyone but stands from the crowd
Are you proud of being a Slavic variation or
You just want to be John anyhow?

Dear Ivan
Hear me say, except me, you belong to everybody else

I met a boy
His name starts with B.Finally.
He's small but charming.He speaks French and Dutch.(genius)

First I thought he was boring(cause everybody says that)
But in fact, he's well educated and humorous and endearing.
Though he lives on waffles and beers(and chocolate),
I don't mind, cause he's care-free.

He calls his heart Brussels(weird huh),his head Antwerp and limbs Ghent,Namur and fingers Brugge.
I love every part of him.

I once lived in his head, Antwerp, where he hides all of his best assets.
Full of whimsical,creative and splendid thoughts.
The weather in his head is unpredictable.I still love it

He's sometimes proud and sometimes kind, but mostly very caring
I love him, but now i should leave.

On that misty day we were walking through the traffic
Standing at the cross road just waiting
For the light to turn green

We walked and walked and saw a baby
I waved at him, he smiled back at me

We were talking with our Mcflurries on our knees
Sometimes I just buried my face in it pretend I was eating
I said something funny
You cracked up so much
Then you stared at me
I went back to eating

Mcflurries are melting so I gotta hurry
But I see that you're still staring at me
With a grin
I said What?You said Nothing!

We walked and walked and sat on a bench
Some old people were doing Tai-chi
We made out but don't want them to notice
I looked you in the eyes, you asked what?I said Nothing.

You asked me not to write you in my poems
But since I still have some Mcflurry left
Would you wanna share it?

This time last year, it was cloudy as today.
But I was about to meet you at Vigilante.

It was not raining, I wore my favorite blouse and my hear was beating so fast.

We took the porch seats, we talked as I got lost in your hazel green eyes.
Yeah we should go to the aquarium you said.

I had matcha and you had latte, you and your orioles cap.

We talked about the future  the presence and the past.

Now we are part of each other's past. You called me a romantic and
yes I am. That's why I'm writing again here.

In April we will go the the ball game and celebrate your birthday.

But when can I show you this poem, in a month or a year?