Yes, you are gorgeous
Makes me love drunk all day
How you are gorgeous you asked?
Words can't even give a brief explanation

Your gorgeousness
Is beyond this world
Something I never seen
Never to be detected in the milky way
Deflecting every radio waves

Your gorgeousness
Is something that cannot be seen
By the naked eye
Reflecting every traces of light
Causing internal reflection
Forming rainbows around the sky

Your gorgeousness
Is poison
Kills me inside and out
Accelerates the drums of my heartbeat
Nearing me to my dear grave

Yes, you are gorgeous
Can it be true?
I'm not sure if it is affecting everyone else
But, I guarantee you
I have fallen head over heels for you

I want to go back, back to my New Orleans
This place that I call New Orleans is actually Louisiana
But still, the gorgeousness of this dirt and grime
The live oaks stretching over the 6-lane wide streets,
Touching leaftips, making a canopy over the passerbys
Crepe myrtles showering streets with lacy pink faerie dresses
Smells of beignets and seafood fill the French Quarter
Intense, consuming, warm, loving sun burning through your shirt
In New Orleans to say horses sweat, men perspire and women glow
is to be ridiculous.
In New Orleans everyone sweats like pigs.
As for the grime I mentioned, this exists mainly in
the sidewalks cracked by live oaks which make an adventure of every walk down the street
And in any semi-deserted street
To have a Mardi Gras or St. Patrick's Day without a parade and citywide party is to toss aside traditions and the New Orleanian way
The New Orleanians are welcoming, hearty and heartwarming, tough and unafraid to talk to a stranger on the streets.
An old black man once greeted me with 'konichiwa' as I walked past
A middle aged white man once struck up a conversation with us as he realised we had shared the same ferry earlier in the day
An old asian woman conversed familiarly with our family at Cafe Du Monde simply because we are Vietnamese as well
A teenaged white boy waved at us as we drove past him jogging
A different old black man stopped and serenaded my siblings, mother and me with his trumpet just because we smiled
Several young mothers and women have stopped my mother to gush  over my siblings and me, usually when we were very small
I, myself, have given directions to a tourist or two, lost near Cafe Du Monde or the levee,
And I hope that the warm smiling spirit of the Big Easy will remain forever immortal.

Two images of flowers suddenly appeared up the sky
One with beyond compare beauty
While the other could be the ugliest ever seen
People studied them, but they seem a mirage
They just appeared out of the blue
Can’t be touched, an unexplained phenomenon
Until it became part of the daily life scenery

One day, the public smells a lovely scent
The most pleasant fragrance they’ve ever inhaled
They’ve looked at the beautiful flower
They’ve adored its gorgeousness
Noticeably the pretty flower seems to grow more

The next day, humanity smells some disgusting odor
The most unpleasant stench they’ve ever breath in
They’ve looked at the ugly flower
They’ve hated and cursed it
Visibly the unattractive flower shrunk

The next morning, human race smells another lovely aroma
Much more amusing than before
They’ve glanced at the sky
And there’s only one flower left
The most beautiful one
So they've dance and sang praises
Not knowing, that’ll be the last beautiful scent
They’ll ever inhale during their entire lives

10/21/2015
Mysterious Aries

She was a wonder of Nature, a special
    thing,
Had this lovely aura about her
The way she held herself, the way she
   moved.... way she spoke her words
A real classy Lady that's for sure... a proper woman
What the hell she was doing with me I don't know.

Anyway I invited her to my house one day for tea
She so wanted to see where I lived
She was only in the door when she playfully ran her little
   index finger
Along the surface of my little black table in the hall
And then holding it up for me to see, for my inspection
Revealed a big unsightly blob of dust, a most incriminating
   smudge
She smiled a cute little reproachful smile
"It's true Baby", I said," I've been neglecting things of late, been
   letting things slip
Ever since I met you, I've been so preoccupied
Been so preoccupied with thoughts of you
You're always in my head Girl, your... your great beauty, your...your
   incredible loveliness
You've been driving me to Distraction Baby
And Hey! I like the view from down there, it's great! "

I had her sit down in my front room, she hadn't been sitting
   long
When she pointed at the floor, at my carpet
"You know you've got a hole there in your carpet, a big hole"
And "Look!" she said pointing further down the room
"There's another one over there... and another!"
"What can I say Babe", I said, "you know you have me half
     demented
Every night you got me pacing up and down, back and forth
You're this beautiful obsession to me Darling
You got me walking the floor over you Baby
Been thinking about you so hard, and so often
Now I plum gone and worn out my bleedin' carpet
Worn it out with all my walking".
At this she smiled a lovely kind sympathetic smile.

When I came back in the room with the tea
She said to me, she said "You know over in your corner there
Did you know you got a big cobweb and a spider ?"
"Oh! I said.....Oh Her! So you met my Spider
She's not just any old Spider you know
She... she's my... my Love Spider" I said proudly.
"Your Love Spider", she said a bit skeptically,
"Yea! I never had the heart to take her down
Why! She reminds me so much of you Darling
Reminds me of how awesome your powers are
And how futile it is to resist,
Reminds me of how wonderfully caught up I am
In your lovely sweet sticky web
Of gooey gorgeousness and outrageous delights.
With this she looked at me long and hard
Until suddenly there broke upon her lips this lovely enchanting smile,
"You know", she said,"you're so adorable you are, how I love you so".

P.S. "Phew!" I thought to myself,"that was a close one".

If, one day,  a fairy went to my room and grant me a wish, I would ask her to give a one day tour at fairy tale land.

First, I will seek Cinderella and introduce her the new released washing machine.  I will give her an elegant Primadonna shoes and create an escalator in Prince Charming's castle for her convenience.

Next, I will wake up Aurora from her nightmare with my full blast metallic rock music. I will give her the gift of gorgeousness and she will be called "The Sleeping Gorgeous".

I  will look for Rapunzel's hidden castle and give her a new pixie cut hair. I will suggest her to have an elevator in her elevated castle. I can endorse her Prince the microphone, so it would be effortless for him to shout  "Rapunzel! Let down your hair".

I will also go to Snow White and add bananas, mangoes and cream to her apple and give her the recipe of fruit salad. To maintain her white skin, I will give her BB cream and cherry red lipstick from Mac, for her kissable lips.

Lastly, I will take a photo with the fairy tale characters and post it on Instagram, with a caption "TOUCH DOWN! FAIRY TALE LAND"

Gorgeousness,

I want you to explore the unknown parts of yourself through me.

Shackles break free when thirst turns to unity.

The feeling of being at one with the void
Independent is the 1 from the Zero
Yet excited to create the code together, heart in heart there is no other energy in the game more sweet then after you are satisfied we wash your feet.

Humbly bow to the King who hath finally revealed himself to his queen. We have loved with reckless abandon every time thinking that was you behind the light in their eyes, we took the leap only to find more lessons, more sharpening of our mastery, more compassion for who we used to be.

In your eyes we receive an achievement unlocked. Here is the place we have won our best self, we leveled up, integrated and at one with all the creatures of love, below and above.

We see the code of golden light, hold space so that you may enjoy the desire knowing your deep primal wants have already been written to be freely expressed inside of Us.

Set your Love free, let out your god seed feed on the bliss of its own creation story, it’s you we have longed for to release the dam between our hearts and all our vast expression of wondrous fire.

Néw notes of pleasure We sing discovered songs of satisfied, building out the tribe, there are so many stories we have yet to live in the frequency of Gorgeousness.

Weirdly Honest, Surprisingly Calming.

Like our first kiss when your electricity shot through our spine, like a tape hitting rewind in surrender of the tech. A beautiful mess of circuits overloading, shifting directions to dimensions of unsung awareness of possibility.

The Fantasy is Our Reality.

Living on the edge in a womb we built, free to be free, love is our hilt and there are enough Bliss Dragons to keep us busy for all eternity.

Magnetic electricity courses through my lungs
Vibrating my heart in its path
How can written words enact this much damage
Yet heal my wounds nearly as fast?

Your heart lies broken from years of abuse
At the hands of others and yourself
And all I want is to hold you
While you fit the pieces together again

My mind clouds with panic
As I don't know what you think or feel
But I crave your approval uncontrollably
As I let my feelings out of their protective cages

Is it lust or love
That keeps returning us to each other
Or are we simply comfortable
in the company of a familiar flame

Do you feel what I feel?
A connection beyond our chemistry
That makes me care more for you
Than I do about myself

While I'm not available to you
All I want is for you to want me
But you deserve so much more
Than this broken life you've been handed

I want to write you a poem
That embraces your beauty in every line
But words will always fail to describe
The depth of your humanity

Incomparable strength has kept you breathing
And your gorgeousness takes my breath away
You are an amazing friend
And I think I may still love you

I'm sorry I can't love you the way you think you want me to.

You who have never known the loveliness of love,
Gather your heads on the torn pillow’s edge of mud,
Under the wood-tar shadows of camphor-aided sleep,  
Where your low-flung groans are starvations of sound,
And the amputated clouds, insinuated with gangrene
And blood-stained woods, are still bound to the shooting
Stars that fell beside you and flung up hissing rays of grass.

Parents of the midnight sky, the stolen stars of your children
Open their broken mouths to the battlefield heart of trespass.
To their soldiers’ eyes, the floor of heaven is uncut grass,
Wet with rain and mold and the unlifted wings of Pegasus,
Whose unearthly hoof to unearthly earth scuffs the clod
Of the lunette for the cannons to divulge the great, stuttering
Coda of everything old, malformed of breath and bone.  

Some grass somewhere will now seem the hair of a sweetheart,
And those dead eyes will aways stare, too fond of love unknown.
So the dead soldier and grass and sky conspire to hold a woman,
So the soldier makes the truce between earth and sky,
Between man and the divine, though the chestnut trees    
In red human tongues, pay their deep-forested encomium to distance,
In misspilled gorgeousness like Apollo surveying his own tomb.

I have only seen myself as a beautiful artwork once in my life,
It had been the advent lovely Spring of sweet sixteen,
There is a photo of someone else’s mind in which I am the subject, rife
With calculated gorgeousness, the white blouse and powder blue skirt
And I had been wearing black ballet flats; a day upon my feet had left me hurt
But the enchanted, oil forest before me had healed my eyes and entranced me
That pose, holding onto myself with ribbons in my hair, someone could see
A beauty that which I have never known since.

Into the heart of the Prince
Into the hearts of all the folk for she was a fairy tale heroine,
Cinderella, lovely lady of ashes, had glass slippers
And upon such toity-toity footwear, she had slipped
Yet, it had been such fragility that would unite her with her love

Will I be united with such grace, such love for myself, if I hold onto my ballet flats?
After all, I have not once seen this grace, such love for my own self since sweet sixteen
Since the foolhardy winds of chilly, oceanside Spring;
Where upon the Museum modern, I saw myself as timeless artwork
Admired and appreciated by all; much like the lovely lady of ashes whose slippers
Have walked her beloved soul into the hearts of all; into the best of time

Yet, these beloved shoes of mine
Have seen so much better of time
For I can see through the soles wherein holes
Have shown where I have worn my own souls
In bitter wanderings and light-hearted adventure; so many type of walk
For a single lass, I could not talk
Of all the places and thoughts these shoes have led me astray within
Of the beauty that had once sunken in

How am I to part?
How am I to part with such faithful companions through all my wanderings of
Yonder years soon to come asunder as I am no longer sweet sixteen,
As I am no longer before entrenched trees of oil, elevated in buildings upon
A chilly, Springtime by the sea I’ve only known in passing afternoon
In black ballet flats; not unlike the glass gussied slippers of lovely cinders

Am I not unlike Cinderella?
For whom would she be if she had not received the night of her life
As carried upon the fragile spurned glass of her magic slippers
For whom had reunited her with her love, the foot fetishist Prince;
Lovely lady of ashes would be just that: lady of ashes,
Worked to beyond the bone; dressed in rags, head in clouds,
Dreaming of opportunity squandered in her slippers of magic glass

She would be like me.
She would be like me, contemplating her toes in birdsong prose
She would be like me, wondering when she would feel as refined as a classic artwork
A beautiful timeless painting with grace and poise without rival supposed

If I part with these worn soles which have born my souls cross
My journeys long, will I ever be at loss
Over mine own image rendered beautiful: my own body rendered beautiful to my eyes?
How can such skin-deep bliss exist without my black ballet flats?
How will mine own eyes recognise my beauty
If it were not for dainty small feet slotted into impractical, magical glass slippers
In want of my dear and precious black ballet flats.

now you can see me
being wasted most time drowning into nothing
cut off the world
i become a queen
A pioneer

almost forbidden to the Old Age
where the summer days collapse
into the sounds of New Illuminati
The sparkles

no one listens
and everything is
pulling me out to see the mercy of the death
hidden by a gentle gorgeousness on this autumn

i started sobbing in agony
it has been robbed of my nature

outside
on the centre of a great shadow
lit me up before i come undone

from written on first page
bloodless,
brain gone,
shadow walked in,
scars on my wrist
down in the middle
a rainbow is
sizzling on the wave

i will be on the empty page and trying not to
cry no more 'cause,
all broken homes
is evacuating from the rainbow.

falling pieces in the sky,
that's what i've left behind
i see you now.