cricket chirps in the dark of my city room
as yet another tower grows
one floor per month,
twelve more to go
before boarding up
my empire state view
in the twilight of night
i wake up to
trees reclaiming their ground
vegetation overtaking population
air free
here too, gray birds walk
only they wear
a curious, forward-drooping plume
not a fearless, insistent head-bob
i wake up
in the bright of the light
things to do and get done
abandoned piles to upturn
address, assign and leave behind
soon the sun will rise in the west
with orange love and colors of dream
smells of a eucalyptus-jasmine alliance
crickets chirping in lush of brush
in the humid heat of a shared night
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
the everything
the everything
is the deep of your beautiful voice
that speaks to me
of the love that we share
that is sometimes,
the air we need to breathe,
the air we need to just be
you, yourself
me, myself
alone and together
here and there
and like the air
the everywhere
the always
the everything
is the deep of your beautiful voice
that speaks to me
of the love that we share
that is sometimes,
the air we need to breathe,
the air we need to just be
you, yourself
me, myself
alone and together
here and there
and like the air
the everywhere
the always
the everything
Monday, November 28, 2011
The Golden Birdcage
The golden birdcage dangles. No bird in sight.
She sits in seating assigned by sibling hierarchy. The youngest never get to choose.
That middle bump on the back seat though does have its advantages.
Not only did her littleness allow for easy rear view reflection,
it allows her equal access to her
father there on the left, her
mother's angular profile
dangling earrings, one
sister to the right, another
sister to the left.
What it also allowed her, was an unobstructed view of the road ahead.
She sits in seating assigned by sibling hierarchy. The youngest never get to choose.
That middle bump on the back seat though does have its advantages.
Not only did her littleness allow for easy rear view reflection,
it allows her equal access to her
father there on the left, her
mother's angular profile
dangling earrings, one
sister to the right, another
sister to the left.
What it also allowed her, was an unobstructed view of the road ahead.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
a vast blue
today my love is a vast blue
inviting as the sky
that holds
always
in a smiling knowing
that the truth about fogs
is that once they come,
they withdraw
and reveal bright
at a greater speed,
than they envelop and encroach
that the torrential rains
will storm and gust and uproot and dismantle
but then they will simmer and slow and stop
today from behind the sky
peeks and gleams a yellow radiance
today my love is a vast blue
inviting as the sky
that holds
always
in a smiling knowing
that the truth about fogs
is that once they come,
they withdraw
and reveal bright
at a greater speed,
than they envelop and encroach
that the torrential rains
will storm and gust and uproot and dismantle
but then they will simmer and slow and stop
today from behind the sky
peeks and gleams a yellow radiance
today my love is a vast blue
Saturday, October 29, 2011
re-written
once
an enlarging O
of a mouth intruded
in unallowed participation
disintegrating the intricate fibers,
sinews, tissues and tubules
that hold my precious heart in functional tact
at slicing, exacting, disorienting, disarraying
speeeeeeeed
down-dropping
m
y
h
e
a
r
t
into the welcoming embraces
of cunning sands
that break the fall
only to swallow
alarming! how resilient
these throbbing parts are
using the tracheal dark to
opiate, dissociate
to calm
and soothe me into illusions
moon-drop delusions
that awaken reveries,
augur self-made salves
and finger-paste into my mind's sky
a round milky cooling light-filled vision
allowing me to see
the frayed pieces of cord,
threads of tendons I hold
in my own hand
i pull at the deeply rooted grass
extracting, gathering, collecting
to secure, strap, tie,
together a bridge
being built and built upon
everyday
an enlarging O
of a mouth intruded
in unallowed participation
disintegrating the intricate fibers,
sinews, tissues and tubules
that hold my precious heart in functional tact
at slicing, exacting, disorienting, disarraying
speeeeeeeed
down-dropping
m
y
h
e
a
r
t
into the welcoming embraces
of cunning sands
that break the fall
only to swallow
alarming! how resilient
these throbbing parts are
using the tracheal dark to
opiate, dissociate
to calm
and soothe me into illusions
moon-drop delusions
that awaken reveries,
augur self-made salves
and finger-paste into my mind's sky
a round milky cooling light-filled vision
allowing me to see
the frayed pieces of cord,
threads of tendons I hold
in my own hand
i pull at the deeply rooted grass
extracting, gathering, collecting
to secure, strap, tie,
together a bridge
being built and built upon
everyday
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
a quiet moment
the quiet moments
are as invisible
as the spaces between buildings
from this side of the river
from here it is all
a continuing scape
with peaks, blocks, dips and caves
to be looked at, felt
a convenient escape?
a much needed break?
everyday i cross over
through lit tunnels
peopled
by the momentum of morning
a bustle filled ascension into
a highly currented, choppy river with
the rare old woman, the everyday korean, the hip-hop dancer boys, the above everyone victoria secret girls, scuttling office workers, window cleaners with their sticks that jut out into the middle of the streets, helping slick city-walkers improve their maneuvering skills, those who just stop. and get stuck staring high into the sky, the brisk cold, breakfast, coffee, traffic lights, cars...
and i arrive
at my particular
space in between all the buildings
now from this side of the river
with no scape, or escape
from the doings i choose
that at times don't allow,
at times insist
that i take a moment
a quiet moment
are as invisible
as the spaces between buildings
from this side of the river
from here it is all
a continuing scape
with peaks, blocks, dips and caves
to be looked at, felt
a convenient escape?
a much needed break?
everyday i cross over
through lit tunnels
peopled
by the momentum of morning
a bustle filled ascension into
a highly currented, choppy river with
the rare old woman, the everyday korean, the hip-hop dancer boys, the above everyone victoria secret girls, scuttling office workers, window cleaners with their sticks that jut out into the middle of the streets, helping slick city-walkers improve their maneuvering skills, those who just stop. and get stuck staring high into the sky, the brisk cold, breakfast, coffee, traffic lights, cars...
and i arrive
at my particular
space in between all the buildings
now from this side of the river
with no scape, or escape
from the doings i choose
that at times don't allow,
at times insist
that i take a moment
a quiet moment
Sunday, August 21, 2011
shine eternally
the quality of my light
shines through blinds
marks like scars and stripes
my partly-clothed morning body
within THIS light
my magic is still meek
poetry only peeks
eternally seeking
illumination
no audre, there has been
no lack of scrutiny.
the nameless, the formless
are often felt.
distillation
Is a slow process
And I am still learning
To bear the intimacies of scrutiny
shines through blinds
marks like scars and stripes
my partly-clothed morning body
within THIS light
my magic is still meek
poetry only peeks
eternally seeking
illumination
no audre, there has been
no lack of scrutiny.
the nameless, the formless
are often felt.
distillation
Is a slow process
And I am still learning
To bear the intimacies of scrutiny
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