Monday, August 31, 2009

Day and Night

Waking up has never
gotten any better...

until this day.

Because you are there
in the light of the sun.
Within my reach,

here in my sight.

I become aware
of our time that has begun.
Let us count each
of every day and night.

For falling asleep has never
gotten any stiller...

until this night.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Midnight Haiku

The night steps its way
into my time alone
ever so lightly

The moon says to me
"The sun will not fool you so,
like I am capable."

"It is not but I,
whom you fool with your gleam,"
I reply in hasty.

"It is the vision,
and the ears of my mind.

Not my person fooled."

"Why then," says the moon,
"Are you asleep with eyes open,
while your mind's awake?"

"That is so," say I,
"For your arms'd wake the dead
of the deepest sleep."

"Why then," says the moon,
"Is your mind dead while the sun
attends to your person?"

"Not but dead," say I,
"Only asleep, and deeply so,
to rest and to hide.

For the sun is bright,
too bright for the mind to be seen.
and to be looked on."

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


You stay simple
and harbor the most
genuine heart I have ever felt.

So I humble
toward the heart of
your warmth which makes me melt.

Your heart
lands quietly onto mine,
and your eyes fall straight into my own.

And your hands
put my palms together
and shield me to the core of my bone.

So I keep humbling

toward the heart of
your warmth which will always save me.

And here I am trembling
with the fear of
this fragile idea as such a thing as we.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

An Ode to Jude

Innocence was what fell in the dust
as you carved white stones.
What was to be lost has been lost.
Left behind is what was to remain,
and you are again to stand alone.

Knows the earth of Marygreen:
You are still the little tyke
that fed the birds in the field.
Pity yourself not, little Jude.
The stone to be laid above you
is yet to be carved.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Sleeps Ophelia

Under a willow Ophelia sleeps,
cradled in its green sleeves.
Her tears, flowed for all,
float still in the water who called,

"Softly shed ever.
Warmly wiped never."

A lonesome soul,
with a coloring bud for a heart.
Singing afar is the echo of howls
of a wind never heard.

"Weep you no more.
Care not his honor."

Saturday, August 15, 2009


Blossoms on a cherry tree
sway above a dozing street.

Here comes joy with a breeze.
The warmth I recall.
The comfort I know.

There I will stand at ease.
The bells I will toll
to the smiles I owe.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Sonnet I

I gaze up the the moon who spies
the universe, upon the seen and the unseen.
The night is deep, the dim from a street lamp slides
into the room, filling this scene
of longing with lights, increasing by and by.
A breeze through an opening of a window carries the scent
of early fall and of reminiscence to my
Nose. On it, a heart is sent
to be delivered to another that awaits it.
A wordless message that speaks louder than many,
and I will not write or speak of that which wastes it.
To wait is to yearn. To word, to speak any.
O, the sweetness of sometimes being alone.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009


I have swallowed my sinister laugh,
then thrown it up as a small cough.

I have crumpled up my helpless cry,
then tossed it up into the sky.


I have spoken of my silence,
then buried it deep in my conscience.

I have whispered my constant screech,
then pitched it far out of my hands' reach.

I have lived my so-called life,
then sashayed myself out of a strife.

I would like to meet my long sleep,
that goes very, very, very deep.

There will remain nothing cared.
Nothing will stand for that which is ever dared.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009


On a sunny afternoon of May
I thought back of the day
when you and I were here.

Our lives were simply just there.

I do not know how, yet
we were here when we met.
Then we happened, then became us.
Still, we never were, just as well as...


Were we getting?
Were we seeing?
Were we ever?

Weren't we ever almost?
Weren't we somehow finally?
Why weren't we fucking...


On a sunny afternoon of May
I thought forward of the day
when you'll be of my past.
Time will have simply just passed.

There, we will get.
There, we will see.

There, we will be.

Monday, August 10, 2009

A Shirt

Wash face,
wear a shirt,
and out I go striding.

a day just another,

but yesterday.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Never Never Land

Believe, did you not?
You drew a map.
The world was everything that there was on it.

"Sorry," was the cue.
You had lots of fight.
And you forgave and were forgiven just as much.

The light went off.

You fell asleep fast.
Because, why not, you had said "Good night."

And when you ran,
You just did run,
Because you never thought of tripping.

And when the time would come,
You'd be a grownup.

And you ever thought of tripping.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Dreams II

I walk off a bus homebound.
The western draft blows to meet the east

Through where my heart should beat.

Hot water drums on a weary body,
Echoing in my ears and in the empty.
With forgotten lyrics on the lips

I hum with my befriended silence.

I look at my hands, fledged well-bred,
The same hands from which I've freed
Many that mattered. Afar,

I hear a little voice, giving a prayer.

Keep not your dreams the way you do memories.
Dismiss not the shriek of a girl there once was.
Ignore not the question,
A noise of disturbance, yet of salvation.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Dreams I

What I wished.
What I desired.
What I wanted.
What I declared.

All that I parted from.
Some of which I forgot.

What I gained.
What I attained.
What I grabbed.
What I attempted.

All that I left behind.
Some of which I lost.

None of which I thought.
What I now call my life.

Ask the Wind

How many times
Have you orbited the earth and seen me down here
From up where you are?

How many times
Have you crossed the Pacific
And counted the whales under?

How many times
Have you brought the pale faces on corners
The brightness I see in spring?

How many times
Have you blown your way out of battlefields
Sweeping up ashes on the pavement?

How many times
Have you seen smiles and frowns
And which one of them do you see more often?

How many times
Have you heard a prayer of a villager
And known his answer from the city you'd just passed?

How many times
Do you think we will weep, sob and cry until
You see us with bravery? With eyes of savior?

Without a scar of tears?
Without a scare for affection?
Without a trace of fear?
Without an anger at confusion?
Without a laughter of manipulation?
Without complication?

And how many times,
Since you've seen it all,
Do you think I will love? Down here on earth?