A Mini Poetry Blog
I once saw a galaxy of grass knitting the mountain top, strongly, steadily, expanding and claiming territories. From there grew new suns, moons and fresh constellations. They reminded me of you. Your face and your smiles, I only vaguely remember, But Dear, I need not see you to know you are here. Your breath of…
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How the time of youth is to be spent? One day in despair and another in dreaming, One step to heaven and another to the cliff. Yet no spring beauty nor summer passion has such grace in the harsh face of your pestilence, for these wrinkles tell a story of fever wishes, and our righteousness…
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I was born by the river in the caress of snow mountains, in the season of dead lotus that had driven out most saints, Seagulls lamenting the icy cold and the angels sliding away. while the aged oak trees loyally stood in the rage of winds, The dusky of liquor blent in wintry rainfall and…
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When the great fear came, I grew muted- When the great sorrow came, I grew muted- When the great success came, I was muted- When the great love came, I was again, muted- Oh yes, I lived in a muted marble castle, with only the language of wind and the melody of rain. And the…
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She could be in my dreams or a yellow-paged painting, the smallest girl staring from afar with her freckled cheeks, her sun-burned face red as ripe tropical lychees, her hands always hide behind blue chiffon curtains for she never tells you what she thinks, but her heart pounding hard in rhythmic sonata On Christmas,cold and…
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Love is in your eyes, sitting silent by my side Going on, holding hands, walking through the night Hold me up, hold me tight, lift me up to touch the sky Teaching me to love with heart, helping me open my mind I can fly, I’m proud that I can fly To give the best…
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With me, life is bitter sweet, I’ve been a stranger to myself, and I’ve been to deceptive hell. Yet I still believe the songs of childhood, that innocent tears rolling down my cheeks following me through the kettles of ages, echoing arrowheads of words in silent hours. I believe that one day goodness will come…
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It is true that every time I write, I want you to be near. So close and so near, I’d drop two poppyseeds in both of your eyes, one is lilac-purple, another be Christmas-red, See they grow and bloom, pollinated by my gaze, showered first in morning rain then evening breeze, Next summer, I’ll come…
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In synchronicity, We found one another. In escaping, We were encircled by Shadows. When the dark ships move through melting shores, When storms surge tenfold flung up endless cyclones, I see again my bright ironical names in capital letters. In this shimmering, ever glowing and peace-finding voyage, Which wave on her way will stitch my…
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In sweet gardens each lily bright and shine, How they did spring, bud, bloom, wither and die? oftentimes, the past is just a breath away, what has named invisible is a floating sonata, persisting softly on trotting a memory awaiting, as if we’d live to all Eternity with all becoming. Yet there’s no words found…
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December is an aged nostalgic song, with ancient accents in delicate monotone, Aglow and behold weary souls with happy tears, And each note leads to cadence of mystical visions. Can you feel the beauty of heaven’s stars shine upon, with millions of velvet dreams flowing within you? Such is the grace of a tender prayer,…
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The twilight of your face, the unseen meadow in your voice, drew me to your eyes’spring solace. When we hear the din of our aloneness, When we risk the change that creates and destroys, Is this the last incarnation of a sacred living breath? I grieve the deleted passage, I regret the untold truth, It…
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Your hands hold roses always in a way that reaching Far to me, when I hide, doubt, and fail to believing. And when I rise, trembling under lunar and her verdant veil, the effervescent and rainless wind blows off the ancient well, awakes my flaccid face and tears up those terrifying speeches, I feel my…
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I started committing various suicides in my various dreams as a 1st grader. what kind of child was only allowed To keep tears and bruise to herself.. I started jumping down from agitated skyscrapers in my agitated dreams as a relentless crusader. what kind of crusader pursued virtual death with such unwavering passion and obsession..…
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The Modern Etiquette 