He received a candy cloud that contains ‘L. O .V. E ‘
shaped smile.

She then turned on an electric
sky oven.  Autumn baking mode: +/- 272x

Havent you agreed with “(M&M)Theorem states?
…
The cream + the skim milk would bring the same price as the whole milk

Only if there were no costs of our separation …

Tulip blooms, she smiles
The pebbles cemented into the sidewalk
And why didn't we notice it earlier

Tulip blooms, he smiles
Piles of tulips in deep lilac

His sentiment to her.
His private messages delivered to her heart 
Thank the tulips for all they do.

Tulips blooms, she smiles
When these fragrances reminded her
Tulip blooms, he smiles
Leaning on his solo path.

Spring is here.
A symbol in the journey they take
a petal for each milestone

Tulip blooms, she smiles.
Tulip blooms, he smiles
A swap role in each chapter they make

Who is trying to save them,
really, who is it? If Tulips were fragile,
like them too?

Powering whisker's tense, the unfurled orange;
teethed with nature's rosy armament.

Brother Tiger sniffs. burning nose
  whispers of passion
  with breaths of love.

More than two million years under human life
And she knows more than you, a white milliner
roses bloom
rose is a dove.

Brother Tiger gazes off into the East
Rose smiling, rose laughing,
Roses are searching for proud preys

Heaving breaths
dynamic, catlike stealth.

    Heartbeat’s thunder
****** shadows hide.

She sends him a fairy-white rosebud: 
“Hey Love, let’s off to search again for spring…"
"come home safe, Brother Tiger: Don't be feared"

Chant and roar along please
A kiss of desire on the lips.

May we not discuss long run dividend payments model today?
Student asks.
Can you suggest which Deal Model is suited for us?
Lecturer replies:
Deal or No deal
Posh eggs or humble eggs
were not at BREXIT hands
A voice of Saint chanting:  
Where there is a will there is always a deal.
Is this the best moment to have a silent choir class instead?
Lecturer announces.

I.
There was once a tiny, fading lily
Her beauty was diming, merely,
Aiya Aiya…  Lucia Lucia

Where wonders trapped her in deep sorrow
Where the root called her to continue to grow

Standing alone, an existence of solitude
While the white lily shall love in delight , 
Nor weeping alone or shining in an illuminous light . 

II.
Lily desires to live, in a place without pain
But the lily’s life is full of strife and strain

Hey, Rain, did the miracle come?
Look, oyster silver clouds replace dark blue skys

Aiya Aiya…  Lucia Lucia
As the rain started to fade into the solo song
As the Lily stood while its immunity could run
Who could take one name and lead an ever gain?

Hey, Rain, the miracle came.
Listen, silent whispers shared across the air
and the rain and peacefully landed on Lily.

III.
Out of the deep trauma that every day grew
Out of the rain, the Lily was relieved that someone else knew 

Who makes her wonder,
if the rain didn’t know of the Lily’s
wayward roots
What does the rain want to know,
although the Lily hold them as emotional loot

Aiya Aiya…  Lucia Lucia
Who is Lily as she solely sings alone in the rain?
And her heart is bleeding from the excruciating pain

How do we define a peace land?
And where is the home, craving to return?
Listen, what did the birds and trees say?

The true pleasures lie beneath the mountain
A single bound will take us there
It is our first homeland where we were born free.

Seagull migrates well,
Pine tree wouldn't move
Look, they reunion in one home garden

They imagine that all their 
Woes, hurts and indignities
Would not exist
in their imagined homeland.

Where we learnt justice at our mother's knee
return is easy, we just have to dare
The true pleasures lie beneath the mountain

In their minds, homeland
is in stasis.
The life they left is lingering
waiting for them to return.

Greenland never preserves greenly summer,
Penguins dancing with frozen souls,
Iceland indeed not chill
Instead,
a pleasant surprise to surrounded by crust of volcano
Icelandic internal heat,
blue lagoon lake,
sparkles our eternal hope.

What was the subject？”she asked.
“I scarcely know.
With Adam and Eve-que sais-je？

Was it a hymn to the beauty of the human form
Male and female, and the praise to nature, sublime, indifferent
Or maybe more naughty with lovely spirits, and cruel?
He extends his smile winkles and replies
It was strange and fantastic.
It was a vision of the beginnings of the world.
And the Garden of Eden that arrives to your dream often.

Yes, Beauty is the subject of my entire life,
She looked into his eyes and whispered: “especially with the painted trees”
I see about myself in every day, every season
the alligator pears, the lily plants, and whatever
with an awful sense of the infinity of space
and of the endlessness of time.

I am the subject of BEAUTY…

By Angel. XJ/ 17/01/2019
Were you the one?
who discovers,
an icy,
heart shaped pond?
At a dusky evening,
were you the one?
who finds
a solo path within the forest,
leading to a La La Land?
At a dusky evening,
silvery and shiny.

Slowly move your steps,
slippery but smooth,
reach to an icy,
heart shaped pond,

Were you the one?
who is wanting me?
Search me please,
if you lift up your steps,
will you see my smiles,
that were hidden,
remote but not far.
Silvery and shiny,
at dusky evening.

Knock Knock (Yet Not TickTock)
Maybe or Mightily. Where shall we start?

Feeding up with our own ego.
Fearless knight ready for a battle
Stand on your own! Is there a path
lead to solitude? Look down
where those dropped
Stars squeezed echo.
They all reunified at valley bottom.

Fearless knight dawn your Armor
Who will be prepared to a cosplay night
Angel or Devil? Hold on tight
True heart's desires 
Fearless Knight.
Stand your ground.
Due time for battle.
Maybe, Mightily No fearless.
Together, not alone.

08/03/2021

To be loved or to be killed answers by Mario Antonio,
A beach signature novel, very guilty and very pleasure
Soaked in with characters of mafia and every targeted ******.

Shh!——He is whispering to me
“Keep your friends close but your enemies closer”
Who is under control, who cares about the battel

Whispering Shh! Some say the world has balanced ball
Godfather is a silent observer. With guilty but pleasure
He demands no power but friendship loyalty.
Struck fear in everyone he has known.

Shh! These are Five Families he plays with,
Still figures of glory. Shh! check the ground
The mud ******* dragon flight throats,
Stepping stones from Europe boot soles.

The Cloud, clouds. Under defence of greed.
The gilt and secure domes of Russia melt and float off
He commands dragonflies behind the clouds
with circled country borders. Across countries and spaces.

Like the drone, drone like shooting machine.
The invisible drone has got so far,  with 400 feet height!
The Pentagon calling Trafalgar Square
Russia, Ukraine game theory with Tianmen Square

Back and forth of tactical and strategic manoeuvring,
with every character shining in little part he must play
“Your enemies always get strong on what you leave behind”

The drone, The Cloud, clouds drone
He is a silent observer, the Godfather.

Double checking,
Last minute Xmas Shopping list,
Spent a whole day at
MUSÉE D'ORSAY,
with eyes and curiosity,
Renoir: Father and Son,
Painting and Cinema
two Renoirs,
Pierre-Auguste
and Jean Renoir,
Renowned Impressionist painter inspired,
his son, Jean Renoir
‘ A day in country’
one of his Famous Film,
They shared models and
shared sensitives
Like father, like son.

Preface:
Was it all took a speech?
Then there were the threats, then there were the deaths.
…
Was it all due to S. P memorial?
14 day ago…


“Drop drop’ red rain sliding, 
In the back street during his morning walk.
Father Ian paced steadily, it was a grey morning,
early November.

Imagined dialogues
Occur in mind, 
a rendezvous with himself 
Hauled suddenly from solitude,

'How now,' Father Ian addressed the empty hall
Counting there, 9 times knives 
Attacked marks, smelling of burning anger.
This was how the school hides indiscriminate ******.

“Fight fight?”  against blue pallor,
Of hell, and not the fiery part.  

'Knives knives,' Father Ian mocked with an Atlas shrug,
'Don't I warn you to stop those ridiculous fables.
In silence, they come alive,
Of dusted harps or gnawing fear:  Simply tells

'What mission?', questioned from Father Ian, 
“Mind as the host, what just epilogue 
Would these too hollow to be chased?’
What flawed earth-flesh could cause this saddened pass?

'There sits no higher court
Than man's transparent soul’.

Attack, Attack, shocked, Father Ian cried
'Can‘t they run and hide, to get inside
Like a last storm-crossed leaf?  Best ghost swore to the priest:
Why again knives, carried at Paris and Nice?

She sits at the balcony window,
watching an early summer bloomsome
The earth is like a mirror, she whispers to herself:

Close to You
A glance in the mirror
Within one step closer to the rose
On the face of the sun
a drop of snow.
Under the same cloud
sings a nightingale.
Close to you
not far at all
sea wide from the sky
Purple lily fall…

Attractions attach to attractions
Detachment meeting detachment.
What lives, lives on the ground
What drops, drops and dies without struggle.

Salad and veggies squeezed
in a bow, no space to dance.

Spring blossom whispers
Is it time to skateboard?

Tick tock, French onion soup say cheese
Who is that lady who lives
in her homeless shoes ?

They landed off from the air as dusts

Heated, threatened, and crown-caked dusts
Those natural winds loudly pronounced their name:
“Infectious diseases, we must **** you all!”
Children cheer to no school again.
Parents again remain home-stay


Daily test lines are occupied by humans, who
keep checking travel healthy kit status, as how
the weeds in the winds, as how humans who
bow their heads contribute to zero-covid strategies

November wind blows out two separate paths
An Oriental Lily is counting her tortoise walks 
on slow determined feet. Happiness or sorrow
two contrasting emotions, he watches her
with glossy eyes inviting oriental Lily to join

his steady aim for contentment, pace of peace.

@First Movement

Flash blue, breezes and gentle touches where he is her favourite dancer.
Twitchy tickly itchy movement, likewise violin trembled string
Autumn arrives with butterfly wings. He is a dancer. Fainted @

Noon sun ray. He says “Hi… Give me a Five”
Shine or silver, day to day. It all turns to grey.

@Second Movement

Life in a day where there are knots in every skein. The moment of whispering
And the surprise gifts of the Year. Look. Rains and showers flushed into her skirt.
Autumn lands with a giant painting brush. She is a painter. Arrayed in

Gold and red, twirling canvas panels with leaves upon her ankles.
Their intense autumnal melancholy embittered

@Third Movement

life wonders’ bedroom window. Of oscillating thread
that winds between the living and the living we thought were dead.

Autumn falls with hymn choral from spider’s web. He and she reunions
Soul to soul, pole to pole with blesses with increase and life,
They are gross and simple creatures, jointly servant of the Will.

It was an April noon,
Easter Passion with unexpected,
shine and  clear tones.

The spirit of enjoyment and desire
With hopes and wishes,
from all living things

Went swimming in a private lake,  
like a multitude of sounds
The budding groves seemed eager to urge on
The steps of May, as if their various waves
Such an entire contentment in the air,
at a shine, shine, Shine Friday

Would Space and time,
contain infinite unknown attractions?
within and across,
lifted or drown,
Human’s limitations,
with curious extension,
debated by Schrödinger's cat,
Universe indeed is an absurd balloon,
we are all part of dusty nature,
Interpretation of quantum mechanics,
Neither dark nor shine,
Random exist and soon dismiss.

No sound, at a corner of a giant sea rock
With a fisherman’s eyes search, he sits alone,
searches above, around, and down
mindful of predators

Sea winds pass dangers lurking everywhere,
though it can’t see the hawk a half mile away 
that is watching its every move
towards fallen acorn seeds, where

A hawk flying down and confused for his life.
A sea wonder sits alone and refused to look into sky,
death by hawks within due to strife,
She, departing the nest from the past.

Of swans, of salmon leaping where
the silver water plummets,
and even when caution
is in the wind, dangers remain

Of glaciers swelling broad and bare
A toast to a fallen hawk, the Lord
pours out his largess there
as long as planets continues.

I.

“Victor, would you like to meet at room zoom?
Emily called, she knew he wasn't keen to boom

A little bit to the blue pole, a little bit under the red flag; 

Everyone has ideas, who is ready to share?
Zoom in.  Zoom out.
How many truly care?

II.

Victor, once more we've entered the room zoom

A place we've been to before
the questions remain, simple and plain
Is that a dangling mate?
Is this the real victor?

A choice is a choice, one for everyone
Sum up the numbers, leaving us numb

Is the rhetoric speech, exhausted, at last?
Would the world -all people- wait for exciting news?

It’s all about the covid war, though not the flu
Zoom in. Zoom out. In the end,

III.

The world turned and the pathway ended
Do you still believe we all lose?
Two empty trees shaded like a pair of poles

Emily whispered to herself: “the warmth of the sun in the right.
Divided by a flimsy fence, all that's left is in the cold.
Victor, would you like to meet at room zoom?”

US troops zoomed by leaving a stench of smoke.
The birds however continued their solo chanting.


Note: A legal challenges in the wake of the 3 November vote to contest ballot counts.

It was not true, the sky was pouring flood.
It was true and all around with tearing blood.

He was dying next to rusted royal region.
His father frozen the anguish to painful tragedy.
Maybe April light will exhaust.
His heart with its cruel.
Ray, removed his key to intuitive rude.

In this part of the story he was the one who
Dies, the only one, and he died in regretful
Prove Tsar’s emotion. He with Love, in fire and blood.
There are no time to farewell for Russia’s Tsar.  

And we don't know Russia and the Russian Tsar
never did lie to each other.



(Because there’s history, and then there’s art, patterns rotate.)

The blue cat sits over the moon
beside the vase of gun and fire flaker.
under the wanting desires 
Invisible Dragons Eyes are cruising

Waves come in and out, crash
Switch on and off and then recede again
Is the parasympathetic nervous system activated?

Roar…  Miao...!
The white lion stands in the wind of a deep violet night

Ancient PaPa flies through the clouds 
He cried for his blue cat: No more
crimes. No need for detention
May everyone is happy. No more
thoughts of confusions
Everyone can be comfortable with their own reflection

Roar…  Miao...
Yet it counts, this one  cat
filling our courage of days

Experiencing
Ourselves,

One cat at a time.

Apple cinnamon, ice cream pie
tasty pastries land on my thighs;

Tell me, which side will you like? crumbling crust out layer
Or cinnamon squeezed with nutmeg apple inner?

Secret sour flavour waves off  ice-cream. Sweet tasty apples,
Hot pie with
Cold ice cream
Fresh and yum yum..


~~@ Magda and family
Many thanks to share with us
A homemade Apple Pie 🥧😋

Twenty-four years’ marriage certificate released today
Mirrors cracked, tragedy lives where apathies traces.
We, create only a smaller voice than
the angels, have crouched hopes in   

We, A Mountain, An Ocean, or at A Journey
Gazing sky, we see no woman and children play

Tears which she planted in a frozen hut are exposed
The tears are saved and we have vases of sorrow drink 

Unfairness imprisoned herself inside this cage
The sorrow that was building transforms rage

And fire within us naturally grow

We, A Mountain, An Ocean, or at A Journey

The Truth, The Sun and all about her fairness right
Armed for slaughter, her mouths spilling words
Mountains echo as we choke on an ocean of sorrow

An end with hopes is what we patiently await.

@April Prayer Day
Sing, sing,
Sing ditto to my heart
In tune, tune.
Are you losing your voice?
Voice, voice
It’s all repeated
This way, way.
 
Rolling in the forrest—
Flower,flower
The world’s opening
A bit, a bit
When rounding up
Cheek, cheek
Where becoming pointed
Your fingers,fingers.
 
@ April Prayer Day
Struggle, struggle
Volatile the heart’s
waves, waves
Volatility struggle
Wings, wings,
Smash the star
lost, lost
 
I’d pray you in my
Heart, heart.  
I’d sing you in my
Soul, soul.
I’d put my chest
Put, put
On the lightened
Palm,palm

@April Prayer Day
Shed,shed
Shed tears from my eyes _
Fire,fire
The life peace
In high, high
And hero in the beauty of
It, it,
heavenly,peace, peace

I.

Have you seen faded flowers in the night?
Where an unknown heart got burnt at moonlight.

Would they wrap pale sunlight?
Allowing petals to sneak into a treasure box.
 
She lay in her chamber in the sea mountain side..
Fire flame burns the window green...
Wooden floor danced on crystal glasses..
 
The wind rushes out of the cloud by night,
Stabbing and poking her, Madam Huang
 
II.
Of those who were wiser than us---
Of many far talents than us---
 
Pray, neither for the angels in Heaven above
Nor the devil down under the tunnel
 
For the moon sunk in late November
Without interpreting her wonders, she left the sea bank,
Tears can ever dissolve her stories within the stories
 
III.
Of the sorrowful Madam Huang
When the stars have not risen,
They gather in the chamber by the sea.
 
A falling star shining in the far and burst,
a bolide flames transmitted Requiem finale.
 
Of the sorrowful Madam Huang
May the sky award true colours of the dying night.

IV.
Silent prayers are kneeling there, they seemed to share the shame
Prior to breathing out the crispy air of Late November.
She asked him once Her name.

Of the sorrowful Madam Huang
from the chamber in the sea mountain.

A short but intense melody
Catching up with the seen and unseen.

Boundary of day and night,
Where earth's surging spin
Inexorably melts 
Cascading aches and melancholy spills 


Thirsty planets open,
For the ****** of rockets and unfurling of roots.
Nature holds her breath
and decides to wait.
The bursting promise within
the boundary of mountains and water
Life hesitates 

Where serenity of silence rules over this deserted border.
Seen or unseen,the border of unconsciousness.

One：  Bridge

Is it the bridge
Between, Now and forever?

The bridge of fear
When will you be crossing over?

Is it the bridge between
Possibility and doubt

And will we stay strong
Or are we willing to drown?

Is it the bridge between
Who we are and
Where we lust and love?

Would the distance, Abide
Or will it be us merged, eventually?

Are we ready
To venture, to cross this bridge
To our destiny but no future?

Freeze your breath
and listen to the breeze

A bridge, the transparent gap
We are inclined
If you are, to cross the bridge
That leads to one. Love.

Two: Reunion

When seagull whistles
we all came together at this reunion day
World has changed since we've seen each other
Although remained love never goes away

Where covered faces shades blessing
Without understanding of their souls
We think we know a lot about each other
But some things we will never know

Disgust in uncertain eyes and exhausted looks
A lady in red walks off into silver lake
As a space shuttle pulls away
they will never know her hidden pain
At least not on this reunion day.

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.

Dance, no stop. The pigment of the ancient,
it past. Frozen in time upon the wall

She left to gaze upon the world
as the clock chimes across the hall

Wings covered in blue dust
An inner golden flakes spread thin within,
shadows portrayed the life held,
A bird lost in forest, as the black hues

Combine with the blues,
bones of a painting poignant yet pure
Will temperatures be preserved in a warming lure?

These are burning clouds, silence reigns
Crowds with tranquil desires
Sky smells clove-pink of death.
Graveyard’s calling us.

She is the pony, a lone walker
Mystery lasts before dawn.
Sunlight was touching her neck hair
Moonlight wanted her to be its own,

Strolling in the wild orange meadow,
Walking on the grounds of heaven
Watching sunset on the line,
Wiggled a giant glass of wine

From the depth of lambent verdure
Whispered singing can be heard,
And these invisible stars of eternal life
Only shine at a paradise land.

Bing ban Bing boo, an eternal door opens to her,
Here is the happiness land, starry sky.
There hides a kiss, it’s the final kiss…
Bing ban Bing boo, time to her go back home,
Graveyard ‘s calling her,
And she rests in peace, an ancient stone

You    Stood behind the flower meadow
           with a state of dilemma
           ONE eye the loner
           ONE eye the shy

Can    Someone loves the rarest, infinity
           who was the all to life
           Be quiet, just listen. Our infinite
           love path is opening,
           One is all or nothing!

Only     ONE destiny
              ONE error, falling.
              ONE sun
              ONE space, entire journey.

Hide     your hesitation and despondency
              shy crystal spirits nudged a mirror  
              which circle an undressed fairy
              why do those unlimited desires spark?
              You. An orange cyclops-eye, pandering to look

Half     of humans believe it to be better off
             with two unions
             the rest agreed to remain a loner, being as it is.

Of       all the colours surrounding her
            light blue, dark purple, green, yellow, and orange.
            don’t we only have one to pick?
            she was there, the brightest ******.

The    summer reeds are deepened
           whist you feathered the dark
           in thought
           within skins
           ONE eye the loner
           ONE eye the evil
           Where they escaped from
           Where they’re better off alone
Truth.

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

I.
Drop drop, rain drops and music stops
Were they chanting at a dark dust light?
Echoes,  at year‘s end sea tide,
who knows those cares from left to right side sea bank.

We must depart,
off to departure together.
Where it leads and where to exits
it's little what they care.

II.
Although you, Sir of year’s end
Nichole whispered to Tomas
Isn’t it better to toast a wine to our departure?
December‘s snow roars to an early spring

III.
Tomas replied to her gently,
I could see through the willows of the inn-yard
And identify who will be going greener and greener?
And you have a solitude soul
where ocean waves rise high.

IV

Nichole and Tomas hand in hand
They were chanting together: “
It doesn’t matter where the path they take
Shall we departure
Off to departure
together, slowly walk into the darkness.

“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

Of  moving outside our comfort zones
Would you think to meet your echoes?
By hiding in the mountains there are choices:

To turn your back on what you have become,
A wander goat or a missionary bird?

To embrace the fear of knowing that you can go beyond,

To hold your breath, bring the mountain into routine being.

Don’t we all have our mountains to climb,
believe it or not
When we do, the view is amazing

Do you think an apple-tree doesn’t remember
In spring how the fruits fell...
It blooms with persistent whiteness
And requires light after water —
To drink, and drink,
and drink in the life.

And for the hundredth time, not to know that everything will pass.

Wouldn’t you want to watch and admire
How an apple tree blossoms without memory?
 
We can’t help but Gene Tells,
an imitate nature history,
When it’s beautiful without embellishment...

As if for the last time
— spring comes!
And he loves me
as if for the first time...