I dreamed my way here
I’ve had my cringe moments
I feel pressure, I lose perspective
I’ve wholeheartedly failed
I misspeak, underthink, overreact
I try to do the right thing
the right thing isn’t always clear
I’ve tried to hold on
I’ve let go with grace
I’ve charged ahead
I’ve stepped aside
I self-sabotage, then try to do better
I’ve self-consciously retreated
I’ve stood up for others
I’ve backed down and apologized
I’ve rinsed and repeated
I’m a chameleon, but I’ve never been perfect
I’ve under-reacted to challenges
I’ve overreacted to the ordinary
I devalue likeability
I indulge the language of play
I share my human experience
I don’t know what else to say.

Wriggling between my molars
My twisted slimy lovers
I devour them alive
To feel the way they writhe
Teeth lock upon my throat
See the way their bodies bloat
Locking lips, devil’s kiss
Tasting this ephemeral bliss
Fill me up, drain me out
Isn’t this what love’s about?
Eating leeches, day by day
Am I predator or prey?

You are the pure soul of 5 year old girl
awed by the infinity of the starry sky.
You are the poetry that I humbly try to translate into words.
The scent of your neck intoxicating my senses,
The bad girl tempting one to sin the sweetest sin of all.
The magic number of our passion, old Chinese symbol that finally
reveals its truth.
Sweet flirt and ***** thoughts,
Eyes and eyelashes,
The fear of my fears.
A forest baby doe scared and confused
in the jungle noise of animal screams,
The idol in my dreams
 
 
My thoughts are like butterflies landing on your *******, your neck, your back, fluttering up and settling on the bottom of your tattoo, crawling below…
the texture of your soft skin and the hairs on your legs standing on their end.  
 
You are the Flamenco music that I can’t listen to anymore, the guttural songs linking us to our primal ancestors, drums and clapping like the whole world applauding for you and me.
The love chart that tells it all.
 
 
The day you held my hand, in front of fifteen hundred people,
And the most beautiful scene,
alone in the cinema stall, touching an irresistible image imprinted in your mind.
 
Transparent lies that make me smile,
temptations away, the love that we seek where we can’t find it – sweet irony of life.
 
You are the punishment you beg for being a bad girl,
Your risks, masochistic game that makes you feel alive,
a life feeling like running fingers through hot coals.
 
Your unrestrained dialogue with your sub-conscious,
painful and rich,
open window into your soul for the magician to read it.
 
The power outside me and you that has connected loose threads of our hearts, the Yin and Yang clashing and meshing like two birds becoming one.
You, wild beast unafraid to devour yourself and your pray at the same time, fearless, insane, addictive.
 
The dream of holding hands. 
 
February 2, 2013

the feeling of art bleeds from my nail beds,
plump from euphoria, drunk off wine that's red.
i feel electricity within my hands.
some have only known it through ***'s command.
my joints swell with anticipation,
the poet's tongue knows no abnegation.
ready to send life through these tired veins.
let emotion take these fraying reins,
and pluck these tendons like piano strings.
hear the way the keyboard clings
with each stanza, each brushstroke.
what suffering could they evoke?
i feel my blood pump through me.
pelted by the rhythmic breathing of the sea.
these feelings crashing into jagged rocks.
breathe in this break from writer's block.

Strands of light cross my wall.
Full moon through the blinds
So bright it shines within
a city without stars.
It bobs in a murky brown pond.
Mosquito satellites **** by.
I'm enthralled by its loneliness.
In a city without stars,
the moon conducts
the streetlamp orchestra
Though it's a solemn life she leads
May she never dream.
May she never wish.
Long as we exist, she's shrouded,
but as long as we do, she is loved.

Chaotic winds
whir and wail all day
skewing clocks and towers
ponderous footsteps
of pumpkin
tainted night
twisted space
scattered light falls
like blades of rain
between the evergreen
a mutual transmission of
unusual potential horror happening
whirl of emptiness
a dead river
bone-eating road
murky sound shimmers
gradually from the strings of mirage
spatial queries galore
skeletal fingers pressing on pain and sores
chaotic winds herald
a slightly terrifying
muddied scene
contorted space
meager light pierces the dark
galloping horse flows into sight
dreams begin
festival and fantasy merge
clamor of dust disappears
silence after the explosion
a sole survivor
quiet gladiator
battle garb cloaked in endless skies
regalia of stars
tamed shadowy beasts of forest
strong sounds of symbols
breaths sink into deep sea
below the bed at midnight hide
a starry dream
swimming fish
drifting silence
translates wandering wraiths
into undecipherable scripts
on stones of grave.

The lake is little different
chlorella puts a green coat on her
when the wind comes
thick ripples appear
remnants of lotus and withered reeds
some pierce up the sky
some bow to the water
the branches of willow on the shore
still they keep the same demeanor
they like touching the tip of your nose
sometimes you bump into their arms
little surprises await in the cold
of wind and drizzle
you walk slowly on the periphery
in the fine rain of the morning
vivid knotweed guarding the mound
lettuce offers four-petal florets
radish flowers are not in full bloom yet
though the rain of last night
is still hanging around the corner of your eye
the lively vegetable farm by
the lake doesn't lie
little cabbages aren't afraid
when we lean forward we see
it is a fun-sized garden.

I sit on my back with my legs high in the sky,
I sit to find, I am on a wet and musky
rock , I sat once and found pale grass,
while now the rain like storm sprouts life like annual grass.

A storm that strikes thunders on the ground,
each space is submerged into a dark and deep sound,
while water aggregates in rivers,
the worlds of people enter bedcovers.