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Haiku  ( choral tunes )

Sun sings in morning  .  .  .
Music of light starts each day,
  .  .  .  Rainbow horse joining in.

Haiku  ( raiments )

Sun-shower dressed tree,
Rain left bright silver jewels,
  .  .  .  Beads on evergreen.


Haiku  (Invisible Poo)

Wild horse yawing  .  .  .
Fine art pieces we all see,
  .  .  .  No poo but winds with green.

Haiku (Puzzles)

Sedimentary
Mineral, igneous, shale
Solitary movement.

#AngelXJ
Tense laptop, delight lunch table,
they swings from time capsules.  


Of the depths, in the quiet, in the white of the winterland

When nothing made a sound,
Nothing!
 Not a mouse, nor an Elk


Not a deer, or a fox, or an owl
But a froster painting

Squeezed into my childhoods window.
“No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper;
and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn.
This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD,
and their righteousness is of me, saith the LORD.” 
                    ———— Isaiah 54 17 KJV




"This was not an impulsive act." she said
Snowy tears heated by burning gun fires.
"This isn't even a close call” Count it
Once more: how many Angels are falling?

And at this moment ominous cloudy pressed world
And it arises wondrous sorrow
And crying sentence, roaring-high
As grey as ghastliness

Through the drifts the chaotic vibrates
Loud call without sounds
Nor action of men nor beasts we ken—
The gunfire was all within and between

The angers was here, the shots were there,
And the gunshot was not for bonfire night
It busted and roared, and chapped and howled
Likewise, a rumble thunder was all around.


We all sat in the corner of darkness 
Stop pray, everyone try to shout
“You who lost” the boy screamed
His voice ignited the midnight ballad,

An unexpected early Christmas chorus
Isn’t justice God upon the heaven
But her son blinked his red eyes again
As she touched his wounded soul

"This isn't even a close call’ she whispered
We ought to kiss Uranus at night sky
Where we danced in better cheer
Where the morns haves no tearing fear
the above Ballad format poem is based on the most recent tragic gunfire event, Michigan school shooting…
News, this winter
Are we all searching and
digging for some better news?


The best News are dancing into a bowl of gentle
and homely cooked,
Light purple
radish soup.
# News # Soup
1.
A seducer snails’ past
Her Calling mission has reviled
Undoubting triumph

2.
Olympic monument
Reunification spikes
spirits of justice

3.
Her calling mission
Transmit to earnestly love
Unveiled the truth

4.
Harmonize rhythmic move
with a secular ring
She performs a wild ballet 

5.
The waves of light
Transparent erase recreation.
Wind swirled her faith

6.
An entire steel
fairies bumble, tumble, fumble 
in bloom white

7
Mysterious sketch
An angle of 17 degree
legendary explore


8.
136 meter measures
holly patient in affliction
ego human mind

9.
Fantasised loop
how sad that it’s not aware
tremble gamble dreams

10.
Clouds rumbles
He moves toward the sun 
Gold torch, birds crowd

11.
Calatrava attribute to Gaudi
The earth’s great sketch trick
eyes to hip in glories.

12.
Emotions are tides
Barcelona was heir to full
gazing at distant galaxies
The overall form of the Montjuic Communications Tower is based on a Calatrava’s sketch of a kneeling figure making an offering. The base on which the figure ‘kneels’ is covered in broken glazed tiles in recognition of Gaudi (though with more restrained colors).
I.

These prayers are written in a place of space:
Our love would last forever.
We are meant to be together

II.

Seventh profound graces, adorest, Gabriel wings
Sixth. A shell, a fantasy of stone, icy cold.
Fifth silver cranes soon flutter at drips meadow,
Fourth. chamber quartet burred with melodic skeletons.
Third spires thrusting in soul’s firmament.
Second had bristlecone(evergreen) in cloudy chamber.
The first was an ascending lark, soft is caul of breaths.

III.
Fire ceased when all ashes left are the bones.
Lift him to the spiral stairs of freedom.
Eternal light in this place called home.

IV.
Together, we sang and to have timeless passion
We sheltered his eyes, with lighted roses
External tree of life endurance heaven’s gate


Velvet memories are never grow old
These prayers are written in a place of space…
A requiem song that dedicate to sudden loss of friend. He was a thinker, poet, and a person who has passion to life....
Golden colours by the river, old and grey 
they sparkle over each side of Bamiyan Valley

Shines and smiles of caves annihilate them
Prior to Monk XuanZang to fabled silk road.
You heard the fire and bombs in the veins of heart’s purr.

They are all stones; one big, another smaller.
It was a Sunday, a pray day and you heard the egos of
screams:  morals! Your eyes and lips ampersand

Dusts and sands persist over 1700 years of Dynasties.
Sculptures of love vanished at Bamiyan valley

Was this loves outcome then, these stones made, red materials                                                 
Addressed with an order of elimination that fires so blindingly?
“Not in vain, not in vain, Shall I look for you again”
The voice of XuanZang transformed his precepts are sound,
“An infinite…XYZ”  with the veins of our eternal love.

Their eyelids say.
The Bamiyan Buddhas appear to have been the work of the Gandhara civilization, showing some Greco-Roman artistic influence in the clinging drape of the robes. Small niches around the statues hosted pilgrims and monks; many of them feature brightly-painted wall and ceiling art illustrating scenes from the life and teachings of the Buddha.
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