Running against asphalt,
Itself ablaze, it keeps on running
Turning in circles, spinning to the beginning
Reaching for somewhere, thirst drives the tire
Where would it go?
6.27.2019
come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
When the day is over,
Bittersweet and peaceful is the walk back home
Green brushes of tree leaves gracefully wave,
sparkling against sunlight
Gentle breeze caresses on an exhausted shoulders,
softening a tightened heart
As the sun warmly retires over horizon,
lanky shadows lay on this lonely street
A whiff of soft, fresh air of life
lifts up a spirit to delight.
6.26.2019
Lips of green tree leaves touch
On a peacefully quiet summer evening
Smooth sliver of wind loftily engulfs both
Holding each other softly close caressing
In darkness, their shapes dissolve
Wholly together, throbbing halves evolve
Into stream of movements, rumbling,
Rolling, and spinning together twinkling
A morning comes, a clear drew rests on
Each of their forehead, cooling off, or
Shedding tears, unexpected, unpracticed
Smiling into each other, satisfied.
6.25.2019
It’s a throw grain of salt into an ocean
Watch where it flows into a scene
Lightly dancing on a twinkling snaps of splashes,
it grooves along the waves
Swirling slowly, loftily into the sea.
From the white emerald, to dark and darker sapphire it sinks.
Letting its body pulled by sole gravity.
It alone journeys towards its destiny.
In the pitch bottom,
It’s said to be singing.
Singing a song of a dream.
Not of its glorious and lush past,
Not of its twinkling future,
But of its journey.
A journey that has not yet ended.
6.24.2019
No word escapes the fate of becoming a riddle
Azure blue sky cool as a slush of emerald ocean, puffs of white clouds gracefully slide by, silky breeze waltz around freely
Grasping vignette with my fist, slips away the time. Golden sunset comes, and then the dusk, and then the darkness.
In darkness, it’s forgotten. The beauty and the warmth. It is the place that iron and hammer work its way through time.
When the day and light comes back, the iron will continue its dance with hammer, whistling away sweats and singing hoorah
Another day, another fight, another dance.
6.23.209
No word escapes the fate of becoming a riddle
Azure blue sky cool as a slush of emerald ocean, puffs of white clouds gracefully slide by, silky breeze waltz around freely
Grasping vignette with my fist, slips away the time. Golden sunset comes, and then the dusk, and then the darkness.
In darkness, it’s forgotten. The beauty and the warmth. It is the place that iron and hammer work its way through time.
When the day and light comes back, the iron will continue its dance with hammer, whistling away sweats and singing hoorah
Another day, another fight, another dance.
6.23.209
Thrown into a frying pan,
A seed of rice danced tip-toeing on hot iron.
Strange neighbors joined in
A long crooked red paprika laid lazily
Highlight green bok choy laughed hysterically
Sluggish egg yolk turned into cute shrubby flowers
Strange place is a world on top of a frying pan, strangers dancing together, racing towards the end that is both the mystery and the miracle.
6.21.2019
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