In A Place Like This,

Bright, green and plain.
The scent of the field
needs to learn how mad
I am to be in this place.
I cannot define exactly.

To charge me with a cost
of thousand happiness is
glory to my soul, pretty
to my face and this is
what really means to
live a perfect home.

Where I begin to cry,
to lose myself and fly.
This is where I really am.
In a place like this,
I have found myself.

 

2015

Posted in Poetry | 4 Comments

Fragile

When you are
stuck in the
hurt,

it is difficult.

When you are
stripped naked
and everything

about you is
exposed,

you can’t hide,
you can’t hide.

You go away.
You want to
forget
everything,

and what’s left
of you is the
memory that you
can’t let go.

 

2015

Posted in Poetry | 12 Comments

And Venus

Far wind.
Infinite place
of too much space.
Smooth tragedy.

Apart from
the fact I see,
is perfect, thin
laughter of rooms.

And Venus shines
in the sky and I
fall in love with
my strange neighbor.

 

2015

Posted in Poetry | 6 Comments

Local Moon

Silver precious
up the sky.
He says, “Local
Moon and Juliet.”
Like lovers cursed,
they end in death.

The poet writes
what he thinks are
delicious food of
the mind and he
cannot steal me.

Morning gods are
early birds who
cast their eyes on
the sleeping heads
and they cannot judge.

All the trains in
the station decay
like flesh of the
humans and I feel
the touch of the
invisible wind.

Oh, local moon and
Juliet are lovers
who are misunderstood.
They die together
without spending
thousand years.

 

2015

Posted in Poetry | 9 Comments

27 Minutes Later

Shut.
Back to bed.
And ache are
the bones and
the head has
stellar needles.
Pricking,
I have this
internal nuisance.

Sleep is
never an
occurrence.
Shut again.
My back is
spoiled and
brat is my
bed and oh
this is my
hiatus.

It is like
making myself
a cup of coffee
and 27 minutes
later I am
my new self.
That’s it.

 

2015

Posted in Poetry | 7 Comments

Barf

Ugly is when
you spill something
bad about other people
and they don’t even
have any hint of what
you are doing.

You think it is a
good joke when you
don’t realize how
mean it is to say
nasty things about
people whom you don’t
even personally know.

You hold that power
in you dirty tongue
and you destroy someone
through judgment and
obnoxious story-telling.

At the end of the day,
the conscience nips your
brain and reminds you
how cruel the words you
throw at other people.

You can’t fully sleep.
You can’t directly see
eye to eye.

Time to change,
time to behave,
time to apologize.

 

2015

Posted in Poetry | 23 Comments

We Would Like A Cup Of Tea

Tuesday afternoon.
One summer when
you and I in this room.
Take delight and oh we
jazz so soon.

Happy on
something we feel,
something that makes
us the better real.

Something we deal,
another flight,
we find the light.

Siesta and our comfort
zone, we are heading
to our very own.

We create the scene.
No drama, no tragedy.
Our perfect show.

When we know what we
really want, we say,
“We would like a cup
of tea.”

 

2015

Posted in Poetry | 7 Comments