come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
I was sitting on a wooden chair
next to a wide balcony window
through which sunlight like
golden desert sand beamed softly
basking in the light I read a book
and across the table was my mom
reading her book in silence
I don’t know why
but it was the warmest moment.
5.2.2022
I almost died first time I rode ski
tired of baby blue diamond tracks
I jumped hoops into black diamond
perhaps my youthful pride veiled steepness
soon I’d learn alacrity turned despair
as speed picked up, and tears shed from eyes
because of speed or the fear I did not know
as others watched me forlornly
I realized this pair of ski were without mercy
it would not spare a chance to stop,
the luxury of all crawling things.
thankfully, I pocketed into a parking lot
with trembling hands, I pulled out
loose cigarettes (I was still smoking then)
and puffed a few white clouds of relief
which stopped the shaking of hands
and I returned to the baby blue diamonds
with a fairly good amount of relief
5.1.2022
it was late at night in a quiet parking lot
near a hotel where friends cheered victories
Walking into the dark to cool my head a little
the coldness of night sobered my head
or rather soaked my head in a strange thing
I walked a tight yellow rope between
falling in a deathly cold pit of loneliness
or falling head over hills into the unknown
When I opened my eyes again
as gracious morning sun shown upon me
as piercing pain squeezed my head
I knew what I had to do.
I took the step into the unknown.
4.28.2022
it was under the hot scorching summer sun
I rowed my kayak through the middle of river
wide as suburban shopping mall
although I couldn’t tell whether it flowed
I rowed and rowed, belching out youthful songs
river kept revealing more and more of itself
until I reached the mouth of a city
and dragged out my kayak into concrete
I remember the river that gave itself to me
4.28.2022
it was the longest train ride I had in a decade
as I sat a bit awkwardly, with discomfort
into cushioned chair by the window
the train moved slowly, smoothly, like
butter on a hot pan, an ice-cream on asphalt
flying two hundred miles an hour
sceneries were a constant blur of images
unkempt green bushes, swamps, mountains
as if in a carrousel, the world spun so fast
I felt I finally found a refuge from it all
I remember the train and its otherworldly respite
4.26.2022
I walked through a dark empty silent road
as heavy snow fell from dark winter night sky
I remember the seething anger I bore
but not what I was angry for
too proud to make a scene, I walked in silence
hoping the road has long enough distance
to walk the talk in my head
listening to white snow crunching under the feet
4.25.2022
I walked along the lake of emerald color
out of a jungle of tall grey cement buildings
on street so long that seemed to have no end
but I finally arrived at a flat aquarium
passing by taxidermy of mammoths
that reminded me of American beef
hamburgers I had beforehand
to the plastic wall of pool of emerald color
where white beluga whales swam solemnly
I remember the whales
because I was expecting giant blue whales instead
4.24.2022
4.24.2022
I was sitting by the window in the bakery
soaking in the chamomile-gold sunset
perhaps I smelled freshly baked breads
perhaps I had a half-emptied cup of ice coffee
but the promise I made, I remember
one that turned out I would keep only half
but one that was worthwhile nonetheless
4.23.2022
I was sitting in a large old library
High ceiling, large space with cubicles,
had windows viewing out into the riverside
I often walked down the stairs
to buy chewing candy from a shop below
It was not too long after I had quit smoking
I spent uncountable hours in the library
perhaps that’s where I fell into the rabbit hole
the desperate race that never seems to end
4.22.2022
I was at church in darkness in the middle of night
I held a cup of hot black coffee in my hand
staring into white circular stained glass
shining high above the cross
I wondered what I could say at this holy site
but only the solemn silence heard my plight
I remember the silence that meant more than most words.
4.21.2022
Ralph with Coffee 
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