come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
Hummingbird, what’s her sense of time?
If she can flutter her wings in a millisecond,
Can she feel each flap of her wings in the wind?
When a glorious, or tragic, moment approaches her,
How quickly can she feel it in the air?
Will she flee or grit through the dare?
Hummingbird, what’s her sense of time?
I wonder, if chance be that she’ll be around
To show a dash of a sunshine in her crown.
6.10.2020
Staring into the room across the street from mine in the middle of the night was one of my habits for the past few weeks
Tonight, I realized that the room was empty. I could no longer see the person back of her head staring into her wide screen monitor as she consoled her loneliness throughout the night.
Tonight, I stared into the empty room lit with a warm yolk color light, beaming as if to welcome the lonely eyes that had become a regular to this space.
Staring into the room across the street from mine in the middle of the night, I wondered where the previous occupant will be staring into her blue monitor tonight.
6.9.2020
Plunge into the legions of wave crashing forward.
There’s nothing to worry afterward.
Yes, a fate is to be gambled as always,
Yet that’s where the fun is at anyways.
Whisper of Death is always nigh,
Not a single wave will deny
Such delicious chance to swallow
A soul dancing such as a swallow.
Spare me your contemplation ’til my funeral
Ripe is the time; alight is my resolution;
Surfing through a narrow path, for the path is ephemeral
Ride through the legions in blitz like a blind man in indignation
6.8.2020
Open your eyelids wide,
Don’t forget what is true and what is fake,
Baiting on your mind so fragile (yet you do not know)
Silent orcas looms underneath dark shadows of the blue ocean.
Stare up into the sky, ponder upon the nets of constellation,
True north is where you’re bound,
Open your eyes wide and stay vigilant.
The end will be already here.
6.7.2020
Blind though I may be
I see the granular peak of the mountain
Forests of mountain tops waver around closing in.
Times are closing in. Now is the time to jump or cry
Run, or, stay with them.
6.6.2020
6.7.2020
T
Fists suspended in thick air,
Flags of grass in different shades fare,
Flaring sun ever sincerely brightens the world transparent
Flames of raging disparities glaringly prevalent
Fists held high in the air
Flint of spirits kneeling on a crosshair
Fight in silence will persevere.
6.5.2020
Another tide will come, carrying the fate along with it as well.
We’ve fought the fights, we’ve endured the inévitables.
Longing for the land that seems like an illusion so far, where do we go from here now?
Hold on; you say. Yes, gravity seems heavier than usual.
Liberation? Yes, hopefully it shall come.
6.4.2020
‘Life’s for a gambler,’ you say,
Gamble for what, though?
Vainglorious attention, lust, or obsession?
I’d say, for survival; for freedom; for life.
Focus. What’s happening now? Who’s been hit, robbed, or deceived? Why?
Think. What’s going to happen now? What are you going to do?
Execute. What’s time, before the deadline, till the weights drop dead? hold your ground.
Pray.
6.3.2020
This is a carnival of poor souls
Seeking to win the game we worked hard to work
This is a raging race
Bidding each other towards a dream that will change everything afterwards.
Let us roll our dice
6.2.2020
Please, look after yourself.
Let your heart bloom into beautiful vignettes of your memory
Let your fluttering wings spread beyond the horizon of sky and wield gusts for wind vortex larger than the abyss of a black hole
Let your body move with passion and freedom.
But please, look after yourself.
6.1.2020
Ralph with Coffee 
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