Vintage candy shops,
In downtown vistas,
Time seeming to halt upon some avenues,
As the brick streets stretch under asphalt,
Streets where horse-drawn carriages once proudly roamed,
Now rendered cement driveways,
flattened by wheels treading,
And the bustle of the city,
As if the city that existed before,
Never mattered in the first place.
The plants and trees,
That dot the urban cityscape,
Bring forth a sense of peace,
Amongst the bustle of life,
Small patches of stretching green grasses,
And miniature farms trapped in backyards,
Summer and spring bring this place forth,
Before the encroaching fall,
Turn the wonderland to winter,
And brings the plants to a cold sleep.
and full of rest.
I’m almost never in the position to
let the curiosity and memories control me
But when I am,
it takes everything I have not to drive by
for my own contentment
just to see.
My tired body has moved on
but my mind is still upstairs and straight-down-the-hall
cutting pictures out of magazines
splicing them together in pages of notebooks
and aching for what I have today.
Things sound different now.
Fire trucks and shouting neighbors
kids playing on front lawns.
I don’t walk out of my back door
to my own personal jungle,
I don’t hold my breath to feel the stillness
and let the hushed air envelop me.
I’m not careless and flying on the seat of my swing set
that my parents tore down while I was away at college.
But I can still step outside and feel the same heat
and I can still feel the same weight on my chest
and the birds go on chirping like before.
i ran away from all those
noises, the reality,
i ran away from the city
to meet you.
i could never ever forget
your smiles that showed me
how pretty the world is.
your laughs that showed me
how amazing the world could be.
you are the northern lights,
one of the most beautiful
persons ever. eos, herself,
is jealous of your beauty.
she then tried to make the world
dark, but you're there.
you exist to guide me,
you exist to help me.
you're a northern light,
the beautiful aurora of sky,
my adoration, motivation,
and my beacon of hope.
i will always be thankful
to meet you, my dear friend.
and again thank you,
for making me see the northern lights.
Sitting on city streets,
and residential homes,
Hold the fire of smoldering cigarettes,
Snuffing them out,
As they smolder and spark,
Belching out a plume of light smoke,
As the ember of a man's dream in the night,
Snuffs itself out,
In the bustling city streets.
As an answer of pray
You imagining me
And the open hand is this city
Overgrown with chaos, silence,
You, and similar complexity.
I have to fall, somewhere
Because this thin cable will finished over.
Tired of bearing the burden on my body.
Tired of bearing conversations
Which often ends with confession
Lamentations that fill the air
Will not take me anywhere
The sky is gloomy, the city
Knowing sorrow much better than before.
I must fall, my love.
I won't fall anywhere but to you.
But I couldn't finding you.
All those tiny houses,
crammed together, packed
as if they were afraid of flying.
Someday we'll live in one of those houses,
I told myself, as I watched them fly by
outside the train's window.
There was a simple romance,
an unremarkable sweetness
about believing that.
I was alone on the train -
it came from the side of the tracks
where people don't have office jobs in the city,
and I came from the side of the morning that no one likes.
I liked being alone on this train.
It meant I had time to be romantic
without having to be hopeless.
The sun was too tired to rise just yet,
sending instead a half-hearted glow
over the little sardine shelters
that scrambled past my sleepy window.
For now, I left my fear of flight unhoused,
taking trains between here and where
then and how, now and there.
Finding bits of work in between,
far smaller than those little houses.
I was much too afraid to take a plane.
with the energy of
thousands of people.
Thousands of lives
made up of
thousands of unique combinations
thousands of experiences.
Thousands of worlds
blend together into
of life and being.