come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
I remember the ocean in my childhood
the sky filled with rumbling grey clouds
waves pushed me as if to reject me
waves brought so much water my feet couldn’t touch the sand
as if to tell me I need to grow up more
I cried a rebellious cry against the waves
against the ocean, against the sky above
promising that I will conquer it one day
4.29.2022
it was late at night in a quiet parking lot
near a hotel where friends cheered victories
Walking into the dark to cool my head a little
the coldness of night sobered my head
or rather soaked my head in a strange thing
I walked a tight yellow rope between
falling in a deathly cold pit of loneliness
or falling head over hills into the unknown
When I opened my eyes again
as gracious morning sun shown upon me
as piercing pain squeezed my head
I knew what I had to do.
I took the step into the unknown.
4.28.2022
it was under the hot scorching summer sun
I rowed my kayak through the middle of river
wide as suburban shopping mall
although I couldn’t tell whether it flowed
I rowed and rowed, belching out youthful songs
river kept revealing more and more of itself
until I reached the mouth of a city
and dragged out my kayak into concrete
I remember the river that gave itself to me
4.28.2022
it was the longest train ride I had in a decade
as I sat a bit awkwardly, with discomfort
into cushioned chair by the window
the train moved slowly, smoothly, like
butter on a hot pan, an ice-cream on asphalt
flying two hundred miles an hour
sceneries were a constant blur of images
unkempt green bushes, swamps, mountains
as if in a carrousel, the world spun so fast
I felt I finally found a refuge from it all
I remember the train and its otherworldly respite
4.26.2022
I walked through a dark empty silent road
as heavy snow fell from dark winter night sky
I remember the seething anger I bore
but not what I was angry for
too proud to make a scene, I walked in silence
hoping the road has long enough distance
to walk the talk in my head
listening to white snow crunching under the feet
4.25.2022
I walked along the lake of emerald color
out of a jungle of tall grey cement buildings
on street so long that seemed to have no end
but I finally arrived at a flat aquarium
passing by taxidermy of mammoths
that reminded me of American beef
hamburgers I had beforehand
to the plastic wall of pool of emerald color
where white beluga whales swam solemnly
I remember the whales
because I was expecting giant blue whales instead
4.24.2022
4.24.2022
I was sitting by the window in the bakery
soaking in the chamomile-gold sunset
perhaps I smelled freshly baked breads
perhaps I had a half-emptied cup of ice coffee
but the promise I made, I remember
one that turned out I would keep only half
but one that was worthwhile nonetheless
4.23.2022
I was sitting in a large old library
High ceiling, large space with cubicles,
had windows viewing out into the riverside
I often walked down the stairs
to buy chewing candy from a shop below
It was not too long after I had quit smoking
I spent uncountable hours in the library
perhaps that’s where I fell into the rabbit hole
the desperate race that never seems to end
4.22.2022
I was at church in darkness in the middle of night
I held a cup of hot black coffee in my hand
staring into white circular stained glass
shining high above the cross
I wondered what I could say at this holy site
but only the solemn silence heard my plight
I remember the silence that meant more than most words.
4.21.2022
it was raining in the winter at the ocean
white waves roared and crashed ceaselessly
I took a walk by the beach
shivering in coldness seeping into the bones
as the rain soaked my duck down
I walked until I was angry
angry at the coldness, mad at the foolish walk
now, the madness of the walk is what I recall
the unreasonable, foolish, and reckless walk
is what I remember
4.20.2022
Ralph with Coffee 
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