the time when we were most happy, our glory days
with the people surrounding me

there was something…
like we didn’t want this moment to end
and wished that this happiness will never end
it was one of those days

if you draw yourself, looking in the mirror

then that’s a self-portrait.  
if you’re looking in the mirror to draw yourself,

you’d probably start you think of who you really are
I reflect on what happened and who I was in the past few years.

and I made this poem.

is to be
the experience
of |something| else
humanity is an e x p e r i e n c e
    not an thing.

A natural order was seen
Living in the forests of time
Where wild men run free
As mothers keep providing

The mother hides in the shadows
Unaware of the crime of her children
Letting the life cycle move as clouds do
As the race for time will never find an end

When we live in the city
The cars live on the roads
Now and then, is a lot like
A forest of the day, hiding in the darkness of night

Under a canopy
Where the bright places are absent
The snails will move as clouds
Letting the clouds run free

Under a canopy
Where the shadows hide
The brightness of a tiger
A quest for life leads us to our destiny

the solemness
Of lonely gratitude
Cooled long on heights of
Informal platitudes,
Songs sung lazy days
Sights seen pleasures
Rendered, ever grown
Like sprouting tenders,
Concerts won and splendors
Tasted, no one sweeter,
Than the present.
Beyond the lights sensed with
Open eyes taste buds wet
Glistening in starlights
After mint, like
Tendrils from the brown dirt
Reach always up beyond above.
The milk is heaven of the
Graciousness I feel
As the leaves blow
The waves
Make beats
Upon my shore
And birds tweet
And my worries
Sleep.
A mountain head my bed
A cloud my pillow, a sureness
That all is well.