Particular Moments

More Stars than There are
June 18, 2015

Swimming Bird, Misunderstand me Not

Yes,

I walk in a blindfold,

Most days

I do not save

What’s Right from foul.

 

And

I work in the Dark,

So my Callings

Never grow strong.

 

I am merely

A creature of stubborn habits,

Destroying the body

All year round.

 

But

Please

Turn your back not.

 

As bare are these flaws,

Deformed is this bag

Of brittle bones

That scantly moves along—

 

Oh my Kin,

Brother and Sister,

Have Faith in me,

For my Compassion sits

Like an endless Well.

 

If thirst shall befall,

I will not

Let you down.

 

Confide in my Embrace,

Oh Love,

For I only write

Of Tenderness & Hope

In your song—

 

My affection is

A stream that runs

Forever long.

 

Won’t you see,

Swimming Bird?

You have

Gotten me

All wrong.

 

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June 11, 2015

Lost In Days

How often do you pause to conclude and reexamine? Ignorance is bliss, but it is just as miserable—what sorrow one must unknowingly live through, not making introspects at all?

It’s for you; it’s for me; it’s for them: the key phrase here is “at all.”

Days flow by and leave like the breeze, so barely palpable that one is left unsure—did the days, seemingly consumed, really exist at all?

You see your days slip past the deceivingly narrow gaps between your clumsy fingers—how does it feel, to have control yet none at all?

Amidst eager desires, did you inadvertently neglect being upright and functional?

That’s how it happens, you, seized and trapped by the anticipation of it all, so much so, that what unwinds leave you no satisfaction at all. Always on the lookout, seeking to gain in the future, and the future is no longer yours, but then merely a prolonged nuisance that cause you to furrow your brows.

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June 10, 2015

No Light Within

Stepping Down Towards Daylight.

Stepping Down Towards Daylight.

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June 9, 2015

Helplessly Vicarious

I’ve been

Catching

Dark Flies within—

 

Won’t you

Stay your

Welcome?

 

The You

So near

But nowhere found,

 

I am

Scrubbing

The Outside

To A

Shimmer—

 

Hoping

The Glare

Will bring

You

Around.

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June 5, 2015

Over The Hump & Back to Life

You see yourself

Bend and break

Into a million pieces—

 

Your dreams and aspirations

Deep in trenches—

 

For moments,

You begin to witness

Your withering:

A gradual,

Irrevocable decease

 

Of the once

Vastly immense

Well—

From which

Rose your strength;

 

Sets of spines

For

The Heavy load.

 

You see it,

This indefinite

Blackening

Of

The Sun—

 

The last breath

Of air

Escaping your lungs.

 

But

 

Do bite

Your

Tongue—

 

You may just

Forget

This dark void

And live

To See

Another Dawn.

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June 5, 2015

Metropolis At Dusk: Seen from The Hills.

Captured by 坤坤 in Hong Kong.

Captured by 坤坤 in Hong Kong.

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June 3, 2015

Sucks to be Bare.

You are not sure if it’s the full moon tonight, or there is simply something menacing in the air for all to breathe it in and exhale out  their abounding miseries—

Blaming nature: the heat, the cold, the snow, the rain, the storms, the floods, the moon, and the sun; it’s the safest way to go. They are larger than life, so you won’t have to sound small and human by attributing the tragedy to other individuals.

All is said so there is nothing left to say. You kindly but unwillingly let them have their victories; in the end, it’s all irrelevant to you as to who gets in the last word.

You

Just

Cannot

Believe

Why

It

Must

Be

So

Difficult.

In life, we plan and plan; neglecting the haunting thought of sweet death and no tomorrow.

All is temporary

Yet no one

Dares

To

Believe in

The possibility—

Of

Provisional desire

Manifesting

Beautifully into

An Indestructible Endless.

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May 30, 2015

Bring Me The Truth

Bring me the Truth,

Truth

Like naked bones

Of the Dead—

 

Now

Foul and ghastly, but

In time

Factual and harmless.

 

So

Toss and Slam and Shove

The Truth

To me,

Blinding and caustic

It might

Presently be,

 

But spared I will be

From eternal

Sorrows—

 

Invoked by the

Fleeting, empty smile

And the briefly comforting

Lies

You wear

And tell

So well.

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May 28, 2015

Talking to A Cloaked Saint

I speak to Her
On occasions;

The exchange of
Recreational
Words—

It seems as if
We could babble
All day
And nothing
Would be
Of consequence.

Unaware, I would
Ramble on and on,
Not knowing

She is inwardly
All amber-colored
Kindness:

A silent,
Elusive Saint—

And that I am,
Despite
Mere, scattered desires,
Nothing
But
A mortal
Cottonmouth.

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May 24, 2015

20 Something Days of Rain

The Brooding

The Brooding

Premonition

Premonition

Post-Deluge Bliss

Post-Deluge Bliss

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