come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
Sun is beaming outside,
Sweats dripping down the armpit,
Back and neck are aching as if in outrage,
Couldn’t be happier with a cold drink in this heat,
Shouting like a sailer, running a round like a happy dog,
Wouldn’t it be a wonderful day to be around.
Wouldn’t it be a wonderful day to be alive.
9.11.2021
In the darkness so deep:
What felt like an eternity — wait perhaps it was a blink of an eye — at the end was the light — a Big Bang — of a world unfathomable, yet so familiar.
Should thousands of hours of preparation be traded for a millisecond of change so precious, I would jump into the lightening.
Stare squarely into the darkness. And pray that this will work.
9.10.2021
The oddly courageous eyes stared into mine unflinchingly. Knowingly, confidently, but also secretly, we play this Russian roulette with numbers, shooting at each other with guesses. I got her numbers first, then she, mine.
Walking along the river, she said — “I like fish”. I talked about the world collapsing, imploding into its own. She said — “I like fish”. I talked about the nutrition and what best way to survive. She said — “I like fish”.
As we walked under the bridge, she said — “water”. It is funny how it sounds —“water” — like it is waving at you. I noticed her white shoes’ tip point soaked in mud. Her right calf covered in dark black blots. Even onto tip of her white dress. I feel sweat dripping over my forehead but I cannot say anything for too long. I march on, marching on this path that has gotten cruelly too long.
Awkward bug turns into a handshake — and you know the drill — turn around and walk away with as neutral fade as possible and restrain that urge to mutter “shit!” to yourself. Yes, she has a work — laundry — exam to do and she won’t call back. Yes, it was a headshot and clean one at that.
It will heal, and yes, she likes fish. So let these eyes rest and best serve for another day.
9.9.2021
I saw the clouds gathering from the distance, but chose to walk into the fray, mingling with thundering clouds
Some roared, some meekly passed by, some were quite solemn. Yet, the mission was the same: ride the moment and leave no prisoners behind.
Quite apparently, they were quick to leave those who fell behind. Jumping and running, screaming and unapologetically happy, the clouds shook the city, leaving all to wonder what has gotten into them.
I played along, clapping and laughing, wowing and hollering. And in the end, I was buzzed, a bit of wind knocked out of me, I treaded back to my sanctuary, hammering the seams steady.
Yes, it was fun and all. Yes, they were lovely. Now, let me just continue the path that I walked and finish my story.
9.8.2021
A flower blossomed in between a crevasse in a concrete sidewalk. Blue-purple smiled at me and I smiled back at its petite petals. The wind was clear, and the sky was cool. I was thankful for this happenchance to meet her.
A pair of mysterious stones were walking by, have a serious conversation in whispers amongst themselves. I respectfully circumvented around their path, letting them go on with their journey. They stopped and curiously stared at me. I paid them no mind; I rushed onto the path that I was called to.
Three dogs were strolling by. One was barking and following the other two. They all seemed to be in a genial mood. A group of lamb just stared curiously at me as they waited for the dogs to pass by. I felt proud one moment, then ashamed. Such vainglory is such a chagrin. I once again leap onto the unknown.
Spiegel im spiegel.
9.7.2021
The last one to leave is the one that bears the responsibility of the memory
You are the last shift at night cleaning up and closing the store for the next day
And when that next day comes, people will come to you asking, so how did it end? How did it go?
You might try your best to let them relive the moment, or you might not.
But don’t blame the ones who leave.
I am sure they had a good, honest, sincere reason to leave. Perhaps it was a serene calling.
And perhaps there is someone staring at your back, as you get up to leave this place too.
And I am sure, you will be remembered.
9.6.2021
I watched a pair of left feet rising,
And then a pair of right feet rising over the paddles
Slowly, but steadily, the pair matches on, solemnly, through occasional joggers and racing bikers.
Calm, steady, and unquestionably moving, the pair almost seemed to be lost in themselves, oblivious to presence of others.
I work my legs to catch up to them, but mysteriously they squeeze by in front of me.
A pair of varicose legs are as steady as the chopstick-thin pair of legs, not yielding nor excusing
Not pushing not dragging, just simultaneously meditative in their repetitive motion
These old pair of legs cycled away among the sea of legs.
9.5.2021
When I woke up in the morning,
At the core of a petite bulb of candle light,
I reminisced the last day I saw you smile.
When I rode my bike,
I thought I saw a familiar figure swiftly brushing by in my periphery
that I mistook the Autumn air as your scent breezing by my face
When I read your essay scribbled on my tablet,
I felt my face warmly smiling,
A cozy sunset seemed to be taking a repose in my chest
How glad am I to have found you again.
9.4.2021
Throw me to where the flames are arising
For this is the moment I’ve been practicing
In carousel of groundhog days
Grinding teeth as I bolster the boulder uphill ready to be pulverized at any moment
Throw me to the darkness
For the last be of candlewick’s been said to ignite the brightest
Oh, throw me where there is a need.
8.30.2021
You point your fingers at those who wave the flag at the topic of the mountain for all to see.
Poignantly, and supposedly wisely, you mutter yourself, “a real man wouldn’t waver their glory for all to see”
But that acerbic teeth clenching tells me there’s an acrimonious shadow brewing
Just for a moment to peak to strike at the chance to gain it all for yourself
So have you ever cared to notice
That the man’s mind is filled with nothing but remnants of what he dreamed for?
Empty your mind, and get busy working.
8.29.2021
You must be logged in to post a comment.