come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
there is a bored sleeping pill by the lamp stand.
he can’t stand the silence of an empty room
there is a forgetful knife
by the olive wooden cutting board
she can’t recall what she’d cut off an hour ago
there is a mug cup with a silver teaspoon inside
is she waiting to be filled with warmth again?
or is she sighing at the memory of warmth?
there is a blank inked pen on a bare desk
faithfully waiting to be of use,
to spill his guts for the glory
that will be remembered in the history.
11.9.2021
when you accept the death,
the life starts.
11.8.2021
when you see your death is close
it gives you a reason to focus
everything you have on now.
11.7.2021
sitting alone at a round table desk,
emails are answered, schedules are checked,
and apologies and promises are made
on a metal bodied laptop monitor.
business as usual, the only noise in the air
is one from left corner where two people
snickers at something uneavesdropped.
someone coughs, someone shakes their leg.
Tears dropped from yawning.
As if to brush aside the tears,
I scroll down my iPhone mini
to find a single red dot of a notification.
it was the long waited message.
long waited, it had become a hope,
a dream and a legend, and then
a disappointing reality eventually.
So: “oh.”
the moments we dream seem always wetter
than the arid reality we actually meet.
11.6.2021
white luminescent light
brightens this lonely bar stool I occupy
aqua-blue plastic bottle quietly stands
its liquid not wavering a bit
scratching the forehead,
a yellow subcutaneous fat tidbit ticks out
time seems a bit slower in a deafening silence
air circulation of this building just hums
waiting for your turn,
I open my door and walk into darkness.
11.5.2021
there is something sticky in my feet
it drags along the sidestreet
it’s not the smudges of dog feces
it’s not the dried skin leather of mice
it’s like a second layer of skin on my face
like a large red paint on my countenance
that I cannot see for myself
like a fermented smell that permeates
but did you know,
like a sticky gum in your hair,
there’s a trick to rid of its gloominess
either cut the hair for a new look
or get the ice and freeze it for awhile
bright sunny day isn’t too far away
just look up,
it’s right there.
11.4.2021
I stopped smoking five years ago
but it’s creeping back into my memory
iron-rust like taste of cigarette tars
lung piercing acidity
is a luring trap against this pain
started chewing on colorful starbursts
it’s saccharine strawberry lemon
that soothes acrid pulses of this pain
but it’s a cookie trail to a slow diabetes
staring out the window of fall sky,
I wonder when this pain will be over.
11.3.2021
I’ve come to embrace the silence.
Like a silent book on a top shelf
observing the world repeat in
dully peaceful pace,
I watched fireworks
of laughter, anxiety, and confusion.
Is youth a sin?
I saw youthful ones gnawing
at the rice bag sagged like
an old man’s belly, spitting at the sick,
lying through their teeth,
laughing at the ones crying for life.
who is wise anymore?
running from the shadows of pain
of loneliness, of criticisms, of judgment,
are we still making a fool out of ourselves?
11.2.2021
when staring at the mirror,
try not to avert your eyes
from the eyes that implore you.
be honest.
speak the words that are
as real as the pain of living each day
there are just too many fools
who are drunk on easiness & cheapness
of empty words
but words that are as real as the pain
will remember you.
11.1.2021
Ralph with Coffee 