Category Archives: Poetry

The Confessions of Fresh Flowers, a Poem

What’s left behind, after death???  Translated…

As the Skies Darkened, the Water Grew, Quieter

The Moon Hid Behind the Clouds, the Hardhacks, the Frisee

Not Leaving the Reins, from the Other End of the Ancient Trek

Life is Being Passed Around, the Roots, the Flowers, Parting with the Pains & Sorrows of Breaking

Jade, Fallen & Cracked, Worthless

The Jade Will be Naught in the Owner’s Memories

like this, withered away, and died…photo from online

The Jade Will Keep Filling the Lives, but the Lives

Already, Gone-Away

The Fresh Flowers Confessing Now

All the Kisses are Now, Memories

Those Bundled Up Tears

Lay on the Riverbeds, the Leaves

Blocking the Light Away

The Horse, Chewed on the Flowers

As the Skies, Darkened Down

And so, this is, how everything ends, becoming, nothing, because that, is how it goes, we came here with nothing, and we don’t take anything with us when we go…

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Filed under Life, On Death & Dying, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life

Setting Down into the West, a Poem

What is left, after life is, over, and death, settles in???  Translated…

Lined Up in the Distance, Like Those

Wandering Souls, without Any Gender Specifications Anymore

The Exchanges of Words, with the Unified Pronunciations, Grammar

The Weather’s Exactly Like So, the Setting Sun Too

Fermenting the Wines in the Brain Cells

If I’d Known Earlier, that This Was How Time Works

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where we all, eventually, end up! Photo from online

A Lot of Tears, a Lot of My Sorrows

The Past Can be Birthed Out without Pains

At the End of the Sunset, Reproducing Another Sun-Shining Bright

Version of My, Brand New Self

Many Years Later I’d Turned Back Once More

The Eyes, No Longer Burned Me

Those Unsaid, and Those, Missed-Out-on, Flowed

Along, Away, Like the Waters

The Springtime Too, Only Lowered its Head to Inquire

Of that Year’s, Willow that’s, Bent by the Wind

Waiting Until the Wind Gently Grazed Across the Shores

That Slowly Covered, Vanishing Name & Reputation

The Echoes No Longer Heard from the Distance

Only that Rising Smoke Now, the Chants that Came & Went

Soaring Through the Night Skies Like that Star

And so, this, is what life became, after death, absolutely, NOTHING, we don’t take anything, not even our skins and bones when we depart, so, it makes us wonder what is it that we’re, fighting for, and what sort of a legacy we want to leave behind???

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Filed under Awareness, Life, On Death & Dying, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life

These Copied-Over Nights, a Poem

This may, feel like love, but trust me, it’s, NOT, not when you’d, allowed someone, to have so much control over you, like you’re the dog, and, the other person is, holding that L-E-A-S-H, this is, totally, B-A-D, and yet, you’re, still, trapped by this sort of an abuser/enabler interaction style, too foolish, to note it!  Translated…

I Don’t Care if This Night is an Original

Or if it Was, a Copy

Don’t Want to Get into if the Tremble from it Was from the Wind that Snuck I or

Casually, the Water Overflowing with You

————You and the Night

Overflowed Together, in the Instant

The Moon Grew Full, Making that Chiming Noise

Were both Embraced

I only Cared for the Wonders

That Already Got, Hugged Tightly by the Air that’s Worn

Not Caring for the Validities Thereof

Or Maybe, it’s just the Night in Form

With the Snow, Stitched on the Wrists, the Slimness Found

Within, the Lace of the Night Gowns

The Thin White Fingers with the Snow White Pipes

The Smokes Puffed out are the Fires from the Flesh

and, here’s, what this, supposed love of yours, look, like…

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and, does this, look like, love to you??? Photo from online

And Yet, Covered the Self Compliantly

Allowing Me to See the Crystal Clearness of Love

Through the Ashes———

Maybe it’s this, Post-Modern Sort of Night

Put Together by the Various Broken Bits, Pieces, the Missing Corners of the Starry Skies

A Puzzle of the Moon

Swaying that Blue Floral Print Bandana

With Your Style of Tattoo of Anesthesia

The Gray Colored, Lights

Rain Came from Your Fingers.  Closing Those, Tired Eyes

Hearing the Rain Drenching Down, the Night is, Deepened———

Are You, Drawn in, within the Water, or

The White, within, the White?

The Copied Nights

The Endless Divisions of the Fuller Night Colors

Copied You Over

The Overflown You

——————the Eye that Survived, of the Color of Blue

I Cared not For if the Mixed & the Mismatched

Because if One Rock is Dark

Then, All Wouldn’t, Illuminate————

Modeling, Catching Me, Right Before I Shattered from My Fall

The Mode Made Me Comfortable Like Salsa

I Could Care Less if This Was the Original Night, Careless If It Were You

Or You, the Images of What’s Been, Copied———

I Don’t Care for the Alphabets of the Trees, Rustling Like the

Leaves of the Palm Trees

Extending, So Beautifully Toward the Horizon

Only, for the Land

P.S. “In all the trees of the alphabets, palms are the most beautiful.  Writing, like the leaves of the palms, thickly grown in, spread out, with the effects of: hanging downward~~Roland Barthes

And so, this is on the effects of someone over you, even though, you don’t like to admit it, to your self, that you’d, allowed the other person, to exert such a huge affect over you, but, s/he does, and you’re being, led by her/his, behaviors…

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Filed under Abuser/Enabler Interaction Style, Poetry, Properties of Life, Story-Telling, Stupidity, Unrequited Love

In the Crease of a Book, a Poem

It’s NEVER good, being, THIS, passive in a relationship here, because you leave your selves, at, someone else’s mercies…translated…

The Thinned Back-Ridge of the Book was Stopped, Your Sight

Came in from the Pages……with that Moisture

——————Passing through the Preface, the Table of Contents

Disregarded My Copyright

As Well as the Recommendations of the Experts

Like an Inchworm

With Light Fingertips, Flipping Through

Measured Those Fresh Green Words

Broken Holes in the Pages with Your Repeated Criticisms

Shocked, I saw the Rotted Away, Autograph that Resembled a Masterpiece

and the TINY folded upward corner is all you get!!!

all you’re allowed, is this, tiny little, corner, opposed to, the rest of, this volume of, book here…photo from online

You’d Covered Up the Pages Lightly, Used Your Breaths, to Turn the Pages

With the Majesty of Sniffing the Richness of Life

Knowing that the Warmth of Your Palm was Once on the Pages

Surely, the Eyes that Stayed Turning, and Longing

Couldn’t Contain Your Self in Front of Some Words of Love

The Butterfly Wings Trembled at the Folded Crease of a Book

The Roses Don’t Need to Bloom Fully, There were the Holes Then

Yet the Skies Disallowed You to Cocoon Yourself in

How Do You Explain to that Sharpened Beak———

The Page Numbers that’d Fallen Down, How You’d, Cherished

Those Lies that Tangled You, Up

Nobody Know How Far the Skies Extends

How Far Down, is Your, Bottomline?

We Looked Toward Each Other—in the, Farthest, Distance

About to Miss Out, Like How the Axle Tilted

Avoiding that Returned Light, a Enormous Question

Was about to Get, Solved, Resolved, by You…………

So, this, is on waiting for someone, to love, to notice you, you’re now, the objective, because you’d, allowed the other individual to take control of the initiatives to reach out to you, and that’s not good, because, you will be at the person’s mercy, hanging on her/his every last word, and when s/he loses interests, you’ll be, left alone, with, nothing, not even, your self!

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Filed under Abuser/Enabler Interaction Style, Because of Love, Codependence, Life, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, Unrequited Love

I See, a Poem

As we’re, about to, die…translated…

Death, Should be a Healthy & Joyous, Journey Away,

Without the Physical Forms, Playing on Time Lightly.  But, Would You be, Willing to, Go?

The Soul Arrives First at a Place Called Dreaming

Waiting

The Body Walked Closer, on that Forked Road

Hesitant.  Whatever Came to Mind, Appeared; Whatever was Call Aloud Echoed Back

As You Wake, You Found Yourself, Still, Lying on the Hospital Bed

Sunken, in Your Own, Illnesses, Hearing the Conversation of Blood & Resting, in Peace

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shadowing, over our lives…sketch from online

The Sudden Cough Blocked Out the Phlegm, I Saw

The Bones, Broken by the Coughs, Piercing Through the Flesh

The Voice that Signified Anger Toward the Pains Came Out

Slowly, Vanishing in-Between What You Can’t Lost

There’s a Smear of Blood in the Lighting of the Hallways of the Hospital

A Thin, Naked Man, Held Himself Tightly, as He is, Wheeled, Out of the Treatment Room

A Few Male Nurses Hovered All that’s Remained, the Clothes,

And I See

The Moaning of Time Following Outside, with Tears Streaming Down its, Face

And so, this, is what old age, the ill, the hospital, the terminal wards looked like, there’s always the shadows of death, lurking around, each and every hospital room, and staying in the hospital is that feel of unease, because we don’t know, when death is, coming to, claim us…

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Filed under Life, On Death & Dying, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life

A Brighter, Ordinary, Day, a Poem

What’s, left, behind, translated…

The Wavelength that Passed Through the Collar of the Asteroid Belt of the Aging Dog of the Astronomer

The Blue Whale’s Lowered Whispers with the Trashed Submarine

Gave the Bay a Glow

I Lifted My Head up to the Darkness

Who Was it

That Forgot, to Turn the Lights within Our Bodies, Off

On the Shoulders of the General

That Invisible Kitty, Pounced on the Firing Squad from Before He Was, Still, Living

(The Songs of Sorrows from the Beginning

The Assets Immaterial in the Very End)

These Stanzas of the Poems, Shall Get Beyond What’s Been Destroyed Between You & Me, Sailing, All the Way, into, the, Skies

And so, this is on what’s left, after everything go, BOOM!  What remained, of the love, of the life that’s, gone, what is taken from the examples of these lives, lived………

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Filed under Creative Writing, Lessons, Letting Go, Life, On Death & Dying, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, Translated Work, Writing

Stars…

Here, we have an essay, written, in poetry form, translated…

  1.  

As I’d lifted open the ceiling, a small patch of starry skies fell down, a few twinkling stars became fish without water, bounced around on the floors.

You hurriedly, collected that scattered around night, placed it in the wash basin, and those dying stars, came back, to life once more, and, as you turned off the light switch, they all started, glowing again.

So, something may seem like dying, but, if you give it what it was lacking, and in need of, then, it might well be, “regenerated”, back to life again.

animals in a shelter, waiting, for someone to love, and to take them home, to call them “their own”…photo from online

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  •  

All the Stars that Got Adopted Had Their Ears Clipped, Like Having that Ticket Punched, Losing a Corner of its, Light

The Stars Were Named, Some Were Called “Lucky”, Some, “Happy”; the Others that Were Abandoned, Thrown, into the Oceans, No More Reasons, for Them, to Glow

How being abandoned hurt, it can turn those, originally bright and shiny stars in the skies, twinkling, to darkness, in almost, an instant…

  •  

The Star Loving Groups Advocated, “Do Adopt, Rather, than Catch!”

Those Stars Still in the Halfway Houses, are Fearful of the Dark, Some are Even, More Fearful of Man, Shivered Away, in the Corners of the Nights, Becoming a Universe, All Their, Own.

Like what you would encounter, in an animal shelter, or those, orphanages, with too many lives there, cramped up too tight, bad living conditions, and they all longed, desperately, for a permanent home, with the love, and care they deserved, and yet still, NOT all would have the luck.

and we also have, children in orphanages, waiting for a loving home

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photo found online
  •  

You Can’t Help, But Lifted Off that Roof of Yours, and All of a Sudden

You Were, Drowned, in the, Ocean of, Stars.  You’d, Become One Too, Turned Your Belly Over, Begging for that Belly-Rub from Your Own, Shadow, and You’d, Fallen, into, the Deep, Dark, Abyss Then

The Stars are Coming on Now, Causing the Night to, Turn into Day, Eating Up, Everybody’s, Dreams

And so, this showed, how the unclaimed children in orphanages, and those unadopted dogs and cats, along with other animals longed for shows of affection from the society, and sometimes, when we see the stories of orphans, or stray animals, we may feel, “oh, how very sad”, but that, was that, we don’t do ANYTHING, to help out, maybe because, we can’t, after all, we can all each, only, take on, so much in our own, separate, lives.

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Filed under Abandonment of Children, Life, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, Right to Life

Lost in Thought, a Poem

On trying and finally accepting, the inevitable: DEATH, translated…

On the Day I Dreamt of My Mother

I’d Not Checked the Albums on My Phone to See

If the Buddha Had His Eyes Lowered

If the Background was the Mountains or the Cliffside

Don’t Lie to Me, Just, Come All Out

The Lenses, Too Worldly

Can’t Switch to that Boundary

The Mothers of Others Kept Aging

Becoming Those, Old Yams, Old Taros with the Bearded Roots

Walking Slower, No Need to Rush

Take Your Children & Grandchildren, Dragging Yourself Along that Stroller

In the Early Evenings, the Swallows Returned Back to Springtime

That Stumbling Shadow with the Back Turned Had Always Been Mistaken by Me

That It Shall Be, Returned, to that Familiar Address

The Storyline Shattered, and Crumbled Multiple Times

Slowly I Knew to Hide, so I Can Accompany This One Dream

No Need to Argue, No Need to Tell the News

God Shall Come by, the Eggshell Broken

It’s Best that You’re, Taken Hostage

And Get Hatched and Become Anything Else

What’s Meant to Come in Eventuality, the Crowds Appeared in Black-and-White, Silent in the Freeze Frames

There’s Too Much Logic Underneath the Sun

Circling Oneself, Enveloping Oneself

Using a Lock, to Escape

I am, Out

Walked in a Straight Line with My Own Mother

Don’t Clench My Hands Too Tight, Don’t Rest

And, Don’t Blink

So this is, a man’s, coping with his own mother’s, death, because, of how his mother is, almost dead, and he is finally, allowing the fact of what’s, inevitable, sink into his mind…coping with this, loss that simply can’t be, avoided.

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Filed under Awareness, Because of Love, On Death & Dying, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life

Shadows

Translated…

The soul that came out of the body

Of another world

And so, that, is what shadows are, NOT a mere extension of the self in the dim light at all, a brand new way of seeing things here…

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Filed under Awareness, Creative Writing, Perspectives, Poetry

The Ears, a Two-Lined Poem

Translated…

Sneaking into an unknown tunnel

Steal the secrets

And so, that would be a very clear way of describing the organ: ears, wouldn’t it?  And the person was able to express the purpose and the formation of the ear, using just THOSE two simple lines too.

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Filed under Creative Writing, Poetry, Writing