Two Poppyseeds

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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Effulgence

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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To A Friend

In vain I flaunted the poetic names of Byron sort, And cited those Shelleys we now worship no more, for Fate has her own say and God must have his way, So dearest, hold tight and see my truths interplay: Of all examples by the shallow world I’d confess, I know pearls, heavenly stars, and…

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December Passacaglia

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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Unnamed Selfie

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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Secret Garden 🪴

When the summer comes we shall meet again, my friend, For the woods are brimming in blooms and blowing fresh roses, And love is burning diamonds hanging around chestnut trees. A maiden sits along riverbanks combing her hair, it’s where I will sing to you without moment despair, And lay my aching weariness upon you…

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Simple Pride

Do you know the land, where the lemon-trees grow, Among darkened leaves crimson-lychees glow, A mellow wind swings from the pale blue sky, The myrtle stands mute and the oak tree high? Do you know the house, It has columns and beams, There are the hallway gleams and glittering rooms, Are those marble figures looking…

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Who Writes The Poem

Who would write the poem? I urged earnestly . Heart can’t write Weak patient She can’t even hold the pen . Thoughts can’t write Suspicious fellow She can’t even prove her sanity . Mind can’t write Conscious shamer She better deny . Memories can’t write Fragile child She better hide . At last Blood answers…

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The Blue Jay

All the towers of irony are crumbling All the palaces of mirage are sinking Gone are the days of rainbows Gone are the days of swinging from stars She is tried of being told how lucky she was Lucky you, my daring blue jay . And there is a light, from the higher window Shinning…

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The Trophy Child

There was a time I dreamed of walking under the rain, With sweet tenderness by my side; There was a time I dreamed of running through the mountain, With wild strikes catching up behind; I dreamed of a dream, That my smile makes me enough; I dreamed of a dream, That my tears make me…

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The Three Remedies

First, it’s best not to see. The mind will not be captivated; Second, it’s best not to adore. The heart will not be enslaved; Third, in the last resort, It’s best not to read her poems. The blood will not wage a war in her honor. More Poems : Meet Me When.. Read Next: To…

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