Category Archives: Poetry

I Don’t Wonder How You Are…

Call this, a “limerick” with some, cuss words if you will…

I Don’t Wonder How You Are

‘Cuz I Really Don’t (or is it Can’t???) Give a Flying FUCK!

I Don’t Wonder How You Are

‘Cuz I Already Know the Answer to That

I Don’t Wonder How You Are

photo from online

Now that I’m, Way, Way, W-A-Y, Better Off, without You

I Don’t Wonder How You Are

And There Ain’t No Way in Hell (Heaven, or on Earth)

You Can Make Me Care

And that is, T-H-A-T!

This “open mic” session is now, O-V-E-R…

And note: I still did NOT just get DUMPED either, ‘k???  Yeah, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh…hmmmmmmmmm, and how does that make you feel?  And I’m currently “charging” at the “jacked up” rate of, FOUR CENTS, instead of the two from………how long ago did I “hike up” my “cost of operations” again???  Oh gosh, oh golee, oh, gee, can’t remember now!

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Filed under Because of Love, Humor/Sarcasm, Poetry, Properties of Life

Gazing into the Distance, a Poem

Regrets over what’s been, lost through time already, and, ain’t NO chance anyone will EVER, get what’s already lost, B-A-C-K!  Translated…

A Painting

Turned All that’s in Your Sight into, Yours Now

A Car Broke Down Because of This

For the Sake of, the Lingering Sights of the Backside

They All Contained, that Segment of, the Desperate Longing for Time to Stay

The Journey Always

Flashes by Second-by-Second

Like that Name

what do you see, what do you, hope to, see??? Photo from online

The Strokes to Writing it

Became Things of the, Past

The Mountains Started, Showing Themselves

Allowing the Wind to Clear Them Off

Of Last Night’s, Rain

Deeper Inward to the Sorrows Which are, Way Beneath

Like the Lake, or a

Sea with No More Raging Waves

All Became, Smoothed Over Like the Crystal Clear

Surface of that, Mirror

Showing the, Chapters of, the Ripples

On the Cliff, You’d Desperately

Tried, Melting Down All that You See

Into, the Sun, Setting

So, there’s not just, the desperation, but also, that intense sense of, longing in this, maybe, you’d lost something or someone, that you wanted back desperately, but, that can’t happen, because, the past is, the past and once something is the past, that’s, where it would, S-T-A-Y!

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Filed under Awareness, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, Unrequited Love

Beneath the, Rubbles

A poem on the despair, the desolation of the aftermath of an, earthquake, translated…

“I Woke This Morning/and Realised/there were/no birds/left”~~Charlotte Trevella

The Light & Dark, Clock

Matter-of-Fact

The Feathers, Light in Sorrows

The Murmurs of Dusts & Sands

Breathing Became an Unharmonized Music

The Moon Swelled Up More

the aftermath…with the world all around, broken into, bits, and, pieces, yet, people’s lives still, go, on…photo from online

The Skeletal Abandon of Tires

The Puss of the Tar.  At a Quarter Past, Midnight

The Bright Light that Came Out of No Way

Whose Face is This?

The Rusted Iron, the Tulips, the Windowsills

Broken Glass, the Mandibles

Fate is Heavy Like the Buddha

Under the Angry Gazes of the Roof

Girl & Boy, the Rubbles

With the Purple & Yellow Flowers, the Search Dogs Went Seeking

Seven on the Scale, Another Seven

Above the Rest of the World

In the Pupils of the Moss

The Clouds, the Geese, Underneath that Scorching Sun

The Jets Still Shot Through the Skies

The Skies Cracked Wide Open Like the Chest Cavity

With the Broken Bones that Fell Out, All Over the, Places

with the rescue missions, ongoing…photo from online

And this, is what, despair looked, like, after a massive scale disaster, an earthquake, everything is broken down to bits and pieces, and, there may be someone who’s, buried deep, beneath the rubbles, and, nobody knows, if the individuals who were buried alive, will be, saved, or if they are, going to die, or if they’re, already, dead.  That is, how, unpredictable, life, is…

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Filed under Cost of Living, Life, Observations, On Death & Dying, Perspectives, Poetry, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life, The Observer Effect, Tragedies in the World, White Picket Fence

Not an Inkling of Loss Or Sorrow Inside

A poem by Makoto Ooka, translated to Chinese by someone, then to English, by me, on how innocence can be, and is, lost…

The Heartless Man

Passed through the Sumida River in Winter

Facing the Loveless, the Birdless

Universe

The Man without the Least Bits of Courage

Stuffed His Lungs with Tar

In the Sunset Desperation of the Sumida River

Washing the Young Child’s Hair

I’d Gone Through the Long Journey

That Can’t be Calculated Even if I Spent Thirty Years

Alone

With Women Who Had, Fallen Left, and, Right

With that Kindness that Belonged to the Conqueror Which I Cannot Believe to be Truth

Nor Believe with the Levels of Deceit

The Maliciousness that Came from Within

Please At Least

Everybody, Don’t Touch

The Untouched, the Clean

That’s Coming into, Being from it all

Because everything else had been, tainted, this, is what you do, to try and preserve, that untainted innocence, and yet, you won’t be able to, as the world is, filled with a ton of badness, how can you, possibly, prevent something that’s newborn, that’s innocent, to not get, contaminated, you simply, can’t.

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Filed under Creative Writing, Innocence Lost, Life, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life

Lost Your Foothold, a Poem

As springtime comes, flowers are, all in, bloom now…translated…

To Get Closer to Warmth

You’d Hiked, Higher Up.  And Yet

Every Piece of You, Did Not Take Off in Flight, Successfully

withering, and falling, like this…photo from online

That is, how it goes, isn’t it, sometimes, no matter how you put your hearts, minds, souls into something, it just, doesn’t work out, and that’s just a part of life, and there’s NOTHING any of us can do ‘bout it!

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Filed under Expectations, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, STUCK in a Cookie Jar

Can’t Rise Above

Can’t Rise Above

No Matter How Hard I’d Tried

No Matter if I Work So Hard in My Studies

Still Can’t Rise Above

the circumstances we’d been born, into…

photo from online

Because I was Born to Poor Parents

Can’t Rise Above

No Matter How Hard I Worked

No Matter that I’m Working Triple-Overtime at the Office

Making My Ends Meet

Still isn’t Quite Enough

Chased by Money Every Day

Can’t Rise Above

Can’t See Beyond These Barb Wired Fences

Can’t See What’s on the Other Side

Is there Another Way of Life

Yes, but It’s Too Far Out of My Reach

I Just Can’t, Rise Above

this is, how it’d, ended up as…

photo from online

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Filed under Issues of the Society, Life, Observations, Perspectives, Poetry, Properties of Life, Social Awareness, Social Issues, STUCK in a Cookie Jar, Vicious Cycle

Birds of, Faces

On how we are, trapped, by our own, fates, destined, to repeat that same, cycle, again, and again, and again, day after day, after day, after day, after, day…translated…

I.

The Birds, not Measured by the Flocks or Singularly, but a Singular, a, Bundle of, the Mountains, the Lakes, or even, a Day.————The Birds, They No Longer Wanted to Live in the Measurements of, Humans Again.

A Bird, it May Not be a, Bird, But that Heart.  A Heart that Falls Downward…………All Things that Came to Fall, Will Be Mistaken as being able to Fly, Especially for Birds.

Birds, When They’re in Flight, Lose the Quantitative Measurement, Along with Their Forms of, Being Assigned as, Birds

So, what you see, isn’t, what actually, is, things aren’t what they appeared to be, and yet, we often get too caught up in the forms of things, without realizing, that there could be, the possibilities, of what we perceive being, something else.

II.

illustration by the writer, off of UDN.com

The Eggs of Birds, Fitting to Use in the Poetry, or the, Cooking of, Dishes, as Well as, for the, Working Class.

The Circular, Slouching into Work, Getting Sat on, Hatching Out.  The Time Waited for it to Incubate, the Space Incubating it too, coming into form and being, for the Sake of a Brand New, Beautiful, World

Finally, Broken Out of that Shell, Ahhh, that Round, that Round Face of, a, Clown.

The Ears are the Wings on the Face, Flying Upward, Higher, Higher, Higher Up in the Air, Leaving Everything Behind, Yet, Falling Back, into, the Karmic, Cycles.

And so, this is on being, STUCK, as what we are, our roles that we play in the world, we can’t, escape that, no matter how we try, and, we can’t fight it, because, we got, PUT in our, places here.

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Filed under Awareness, Perspectives, Poetry, STUCK in a Cookie Jar, Vicious Cycle

Groomed

To NEVER question the authorities of an adult

To NEVER doubt that they have the best interests of our wellbeing in their minds

To NEVER disobey them

To NOT listen to the HURT in our bodies, WHAT our bodies tells us

To NEVER be allowed to feel anything

To OBEY and HONOR the man we are, serving

That, was how they’d all, groomed us, CUTTING off our rights

And we were all made, slaves

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Filed under Abuser/Enabler Interaction Style, Basic Human Rights, Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, Socialization, STUCK in a Cookie Jar, Vicious Cycle, Wake Up Calls, White Picket Fence

Chased Down by Time

Tick-tock, tick—tock…I hear it, nonstop!

Chased Down by Time

No Time to Lose

Gotta Go, Gotta Hurry Up

racing to cross that finish line, with TIME on our, backs!

and we can’t, lose it! Illustration from online

To What?

Dunno, just Need to Hasten Up

Quick, You Hear that Alarm

Knowing You’re, Already Behind Before You Start

Chased Down by Time You Are

In This Race Against Time

You’re Gonna Lose in Time

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Filed under Awareness, Life, Perspectives, Poetry, Properties of Life, Wake Up Calls

The Tears for, Ukraine

The Tears for, Ukraine

Fell from the Heavens Above

Drip, Drip, Drip

As They’d Fallen Out of Heaven

They’d Turned Red

Seeped into the Soils

Dyeing the Earth to Crimson

The Tears for, Ukraine

looking up to heaven…photo from online

It’d Fallen For, More than Six Months Now

Yet it’d Felt Like, It’d Been Going on for an Eternity Already

When oh When, Will God See, and Put an End to the Deaths?

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Filed under Abuse, Abuse of Power, Interactions Shared with the World, Life, Poetry, Right to Life, the Finality of Life, Tragedies in the World, White Picket Fence