come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
followed a white bunny down a hole
came out into world unknown at all
wallowed around to find respite
hollowed candle I found at night
running in dark worried through an arc
brushing doubts aside reminiscing the past
wondering impassive, expansive thoughts
thundering punishments, imminent fraught
ticking of clock, won’t it stop
ticking of clock, don’t you stop
1.6.2022
slowly crawls like a shadow
gnarly smell infuse the air
hoping it’ll be better tomorrow
in the end, it will all be fair
headache, you are not to be feared
I know it’s only pain that matters
better healthy and pain all over
rather than lying in bed all the years
won’t it shine like sweet bees in the air
won’t it rise like what Spring brings to here
1.5.2022
slowly arises the sun
towering over a dune
surely with a mighty fun
towards the falling moon
open your eyes
and drum your heart
now is time to rise
and hum your part
slow, slowly, rise
slowly, surely, rise
1.3.2022
it’s a good movie, they said
sure, I’ll watch it on Netflix
will it be a documentary instead?
no, surely it’ll be one of those funny flicks
I watched, all but one question remains:
were those movie makers on crack cocaine?
how cruelly honestly showed their passion;
I wonder whether they’re geniuses or madmen
1.2.2021
in awe, I stared upward
remotely familiar memories
long-gone, but I wondered,
remembering veiled stories:
a flash of smile, a gentle touch;
popping balloons at climax,
awashed shame and such;
a lonesome requiem at flashback
in silence, I stared up high;
white, misty cloud filled the sky
calmly, I counted the dreams
reluctantly, letting tears stream.
1.1.2022
running towards the sky
I sprint, and the void flows.
yes, all things that live must flow.
and I imbue what I know to be truest.
10.24.2021
keep your head held high
even as your fellow men blame you
keep striking that red hot iron ore
of your dream and your ambition
even if it dissipates like a sandcastle
no matter how dearly you loved that woman
who turned you down like a squashed bug
believe that there will be one who see you as you are.
no matter how many woman reject you
believe that there will be the one who accepts your hand.
no matter how foolish your actions of the past were
forgive yourself and accept yourself
learn and rise. never forget to rise again.
12.30.2021
In a lazy summer of 2015, I picked up on a book in a yard sale in front of a house where I lived. It was not my house, but it was one that I loved. Feeling somewhat directionless, I picked up the book, The Double, written by Dostoevsky.
In the book, I found an old piece of paper, hand-written by two writers, strangers to each other, addressing to the other. A writer asked, should their lives be consumed by love so important, yet so ephemeral.
A note shared by two strangers wrought with passionate attraction to each other. This, all the more, made the book more interesting subject to read. Has this book by Dostoevsky been the catalyst between these individuals? Intrigued, instead of procrastinating reading this one along with the rest of the books, I made a resolution to read at least one of the novels in the book to see what drew these two strangers together.
have you no fear of loneliness?
then perhaps, people shedding is your thing.
shedding away people who don’t
see you as you are,
or do see you as you are,
and choose to severe ties anyways
like a meteor shedding away
impure addendums in stratosphere
gliding ever faster, with an ease,
exploding every second with peace
live your life the way you can
let the stars collide
be that as it may turn into a star
or a black hole engulfing all
12.29.2021
feeling numb in a plastic bubble
staring out into the world
one pinched the wall
peeling away the shield
rushed in were emotions:
love, passion, and freedom;
city lights and the aurora;
magic filled the air
as one held reins to affair
but also came in fatigue and pain
from battles cries and sacrifices of attrition
beauties missed and promises broken
daggers in heart, tears in shadows
sweat soaked neck, dried blood on hand
but all in all,
one lived
and one died many times.
had one not jumped,
one would not have known.
12.28.2021
Ralph with Coffee 
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