come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
like an amoeba staring at a bird,
like a dog running after a car,
I chase after a beaten path.
yes, I know I am ashamed
and part of my drive to ignore this shame
moves me when I am the most tired.
a sun shined once, very briefly.
and I learned in that priceless moment
that you must choose to live for yourself.
and the rest of the world will follow.
9.24.2023
hold on to your dream
it will come true.
it may be tough now
all will prevail somehow.
let go of your past
and face the world with your best
tomorrow will come
so will your hope to become.
9.16.2023
instinctively,
my jaws tighten,
my fists clench,
my thoughts start racing.
as if to push a racing train to a halt,
I tell myself:
I am not the one to judge.
yet the screeching animosity does not stop,
rather slowly pressurize for an explosion.
if humans are not perfect,
why strive for such perfection?
I’d like to know I did the right thing
and live and love without regret.
9.2.2023
let there be light, warmth, and love.
let us dream, understand, and embrace.
regardless of what we have gone through,
let us smile and greet each other.
let us breath freely and rejoice in shades.
let us move onwards with our heads held high.
7.1.2023
I remember the four seasons in that house.
in the summer, I can see the dark blue sky
through a sun window tilted diagonally.
I’d lay on the bed, reading William Matthews.
in the fall, I can pick a dried brown leaf
of a chestnut tree & make a wish
for a magical season to begin.
in the winter, I can see the back yard,
now piling up with thick, soft snow,
through kitchen window
as I wash bowls that had dumpling soups.
in the spring, I would stare at sunset,
glistening in a silent glorious opera
through budding green tree leaves
as I finish packing boxes.
the squeaking sound of wooden floors,
the table of vynil record player,
and the bottle of wine.
I remember the scent of the moment.
5.12.2023
I don’t know what to call it.
Memory? Shadow? Spirit?
One moment you see a person,
the next, you don’t see them.
Your friend, your mom or dad, your teacher,
one moment you see them with your eyes.
the next, you don’t.
So you believe.
You believe they are there with you.
just out of sight,
but they are there with you.
When I walk on the street,
or sit in an empty room,
I feel their presence.
And I remember/sense/imagine:
The way they talk,
the way they gesture,
the way they tell you
that they love you.
it is unmistakable.
I want to tell them:
“I remember all of you”
so I try leaving such tenderness
in the hearts of those dear to me.
As they have done for me.
5.4.2023
who would’ve known
the brewing history beneath
friendly facade shown
makes onerous headache
judge wisely
your friends and foe
they lie at the doorsteps
4.28.2022
I wanted to let the tears flow.
I bit the tip of my tongue with my teeth,
yet I did not cry.
then I remembered how unfair it was
that what I know now is unknown to my past
I stared at my youthful, naive self crumbling
as the inevitable lances fell from above
I spoke, out of pain, but no voice let out
instead, thick drops of tears fell down.
4.13.2023
it’s silly to be serious,
but let’s get serious about being silly.
let us explore the world without prejudice
let us roll around and jump around
exploring the world as it is.
let us find happiness in our story
and rejoice in small delights
one by one, it will make the world brighter.
4.10.2023
life is short, in retrospect.
everything changes too,
contrary to expectations & wishes.
as people and places ebbs and webs,
sensing when is the time to let go
and when is the time to get a grip
is a serene balance.
may there be a courage to move forward
with faith in heart
hopefully leading to a peaceful night.
4.3.2023
Ralph with Coffee 
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