Author: Ralph

life. coffee. stories.

Prickly Hair

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It’s a perverted yet irresistible habit: pulling the root of your own beard hair out from the hypodermic layer with pinched nails.

I dare you do it now. Just one tiny little beard hair. Do it. Just do it.

See? It ain’t too bad doesn’t it? It hurts a little but doesn’t it feel a bit cathartic?

Have you caught yourself yet reaching for another thread of hair? A scandalous thing that others will find out if you do it too much

But you know you want it. Just do it. Do it!

5.4.2020

Grip

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It’s the gut wrenching feeling that gloomingly sits inside the top part of the heart that croaks:

“But I’ve what it takes. No one understands yet. You wait and see”

It’s a miasma that pulls your thigh, your lower back, your neck, into a tiny rectangular box:

“This is my magical being. It shall do all the things that no one will know about”

It’s the jaw muscles clenched together, wouldn’t let go of the teeth in between its bones:

“I won’t end like this. I will get somewhere. Surely there’s a better place”

Ah, but may I ask: what’s the point of it all? What’s the point of the glory and the warm and the victory?

For there shall be a downfall that lurks behind your back, a bubbly days after the dark night.

But keep on at it. Keep on.

5.3.2020

Ocean Crystal

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Deep, deep into the ocean, as you swim, digging yourself further,

You may hold your breath, pushing yourself, counting each new seconds

But perhaps, it might you’d need to set a measuring stick, an invisible one made of crystal

That never changes no matter how strong the wave hits, no matter what animal swims by

So that your lungs will continue to grow before you even know about it.

Perhaps that’s where all the jewelries lie.

5.1.2020

Lotus

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my head is dizzy, busy spinning and sprinting away from nauseating words, those sand dusts, buzzing with unctuous stickiness, dazzle my vision into twirls.

perhaps here is where we let things drop. Flopping the wet wings, rather, shedding them feathers away in swings, either, glide through the falling air hither, or cling onto tenuous roots of a heather.

 

3.27.2020

Crystals

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Sun’s brightly shining high in the stratosphere,

whitening atmosphere all around the horizon.

 

bent over, towards the dirt and dust where I stand,

I found buddings, peculiar buddings.

 

I kneeled, crouched, and pushing my face an inch away from the

wholesome dirt, that fresh grocery smelly dirt,

and screened a pebble-like dirt that looked like a mountain.

 

I then saw a white crystals, shining like glaciers of nowhere,

shining as gloriously as the world’s theirs.

 

I marveled.

I blinked.

It was still there.

 

I stretched my trunk,

pushed the dirty-earth away from myself,

and got on my feet,

the earth-dirt-crystal safely far away from myself.

 

I took a breath in,

squinted at the sharp white sun above,

and then a dotted point on a horizon.

 

I let out my breath,

dragged my feet towards an endlessness,

leaving trails of white crystals.

 

3.23.2020

Runner

Ralph5 Comments

Keep on running,

do not look back. It is the life that we have been born to live,

do not turn, just run.

it will swallow the whole thing and then everything will be over in a second

run

 

run

just keep on running

when the sunrise,

we can catch a breath

life resumes at the sunrise

we will live on

so now,

just run

run.

3.2.2020