Sunday, December 4, 2011

Another Night

The night bears the silence
The night outshines the city lights.

The lyric flows
The past sinks deep into my heart
The past self has turned out to be false.

People party at night
I sense silence out of the bundle of noise.
Among the infinite space of silence
I try to look for a torch
And then a wall to touch.

When there is a touch of liquid on my hands
I was never quite sure what it was.
Could it be tears?
Tears from myself?
Or tears from the above?

The night always raises questions.
The night is always colder.

When I found a torch
I expected something warm.
Instead, I am lowered by the coldest truth.
A wall was only at the end of it.
I did manage to touch it.

Tonight is another night after another.
Tomorrow will be another night after this night.

The night gradually swallows up everything,
But the whiteness of snow.
Snow falls upon me,
I fall
Into another night.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011


I respect very greatly
Of what you have for yourself.
Your high ego and pride,
I am sure they deserve so much.

Take a look at an actual Mona Lisa,
I’ve heard its fame to be quite big
But its frame turned out to be too small.

Take a walk to MOMA,
My favorite piece there is L.H.O.O.Q.
It proves the small frame to be even smaller.
A mustache and five letters were all it took.

The great inner thing you keep
I know they serve for grave purposes.
The frames you’ve built
To define your world, your thoughts, your principles
They were shocking enough to chase me away
And the distance grow great between you and me
But I know they are really
Just some stubborn lines that stand
To mark your ridiculous boundaries.

What would take to make you realize
That it only took a mustache and five letters
For the great Mona Lisa to all of a sudden go horny.

The famous smile in the small picture –
Experts add all kinds of adjectives to describe it.
At least Mona Lisa smiles for the sake of Renaissance.

You, who don’t even represent anything for this century,
Your pride stays firm for the sake of nothing –
Perhaps for a lonely end.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Blind, Blind Not

The mass of that light I see
Rather light or grave,
That is not exactly a matter to me.

In the infinite darkness
I could make a use of it -
It becomes a very delightful thing, in that case.

Oh, man, you see the inside
Of her topless naked body.
You are striving to see
And be pleased to see it
And be thanking god for giving you the sight.
But, no.
You don’t even have the light I’d have used
In the infinite darkness of the fearing echos.

Is it so simple to come across
The one thing your wife should have told you.
Humans are too stupid to remember
Anything they heard what not to do.

But see that shameless blind.
His hands always searching for the right path;
Trying harder than any of the blessed who can see
That is how he lives a life.

Away from the world’s sins.
That one dreadful stick,
One onerous cry of a prostitute,
An early smoke from a funeral place.
He touches by and walks through.
I gather my hands for a prayer.

Monday, August 29, 2011

A Castle You Wrote On Paper

Sometimes, the written letters can be less than nothing.

When I write a 'castle'
You can see most anything that goes with it
Including the mountains, river, people, soldiers and so forth.
But really, it's just a word
That never existed, or exists, or will exist
In ways I've dreamed of it.
Too great, too beautiful
That is how it shall be described
But never have reality.

If I erased the word I wrote,
In a few months along with my limits of memory
The castle shall be gone for good
Just like before-
Gone as if it was never part of anyone's memory.

That is what makes letters sad.
When I do not destroy them
They stay there for good
But only upon the papers.
Then, my tears hang -
One by one they will make the slides -
But only for something
That never really was true.

You see, you wouldn't have meant it this way
But now see how much it takes me back
And then brings me back to these trivial waves of emotions
That will soon be erased
Even from my side of memories.

As if it was unreal
As if it was just a part of a novel.
Regretful remnants of sweet sorrows flowing within me
Should finally impress you,
Don't they?

Thursday, August 25, 2011

A Question For You To Answer

I am afraid that I may lose it.

The speed that the rain falls from the above

Accelerated by the number 9.8

I could clash and burn

But what would be next?

The feather I once sensed

The moment the touch lingered upon my finger tips

I could just smell it all right.

I keep scratching and scratching

Until a bit of blood focuses on my skin.

I see the red, I block it with a piece of tissue.

It seems to stop for few seconds

Then start coming out again.

Why do I scratch, I do not remember.

Something about the rain,

Something about the feather.

I could start reaching for a million subjects.

Something about searching.

And then again,

I was fearful of losing it,

Of the possibility of losing it,

But then again,

Mainly, of losing it.

A little too sad,

A little too fast,


A little too scared.

I am losing it.

At least

That is what it seems to be.

Am I still scratching

Am I still searching

Let me ask that to you

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

He Proved God True

When it rains too hard, you feel too low.

Your sac is too heavy, you can barely keep it up.

The world goes in and then it goes back out.

People come, and then they go for sure.

The air becomes too tight, you can barely breathe.

You settle a boat and then it goes wrong.

You sing a song and then start sounding shaky.

The Bible taught me that

While there are so many creations of God

That make you breathe harder and deeper

There are also creations from God

That make everything much smoother.

I asked God

God why do all that I am living for

Make me ache all the more.

God simply answered

Wait, my dear, you will see the Bible through.

And then God elaborated.

Shall it rain too hard, he will offer you an umbrella.

Shall your sac be too heavy, he will keep it up for you.

Shall the world go in and out, he will stay in for good.

Shall people come and go, he will attach himself to you.

Shall the air become too tight, he will blow more air for your breath.

Shall you settle a boat and it breaks, he will fix for it to float.

Shall you sing a song and sound weird,

He will know the notes that you can work on.

I was simply living my life

And one day, somewhere in between

I found a person who proved God true.

My Home

I feel blessed to have a comfortable home

Where I have my bed, my music, my family.

I know there always will be the same smell

That I long to smell for the whole day:

I know the same laziness will be hanging

That I long to feel when the days are hectic:

I know the unchanging sleepiness will be drooping

That I long to be kept in when I have to be intense.

My home is always there, at the end of the day

To hug me in, hug me tight, and hug me still

No matter what.

The street I know,

The address I write without a single pause,

The building I know with my most uncared senses-

That is where I belong,

That is where I long to belong.

I could give anything to you

I could be anything for you.

The question lies only upon the wonder

If you could be, all that my home is to me,

If you could be, all that my home shall ever be for me.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Mother, Mother

Mother, mother
I am in this world and you see me.
Mother, mother
I wonder when my heart beats
Does the world care about it.
Mother, mother
I have tried making friends, making lovers,
Making out, making for my living.
All I got back from my makings
Was that nothing was as warm as you.
Mother, mother
I cry to you tonight
Because all I ever – all I ever really – gave you
Was nothing but complaints,
Nothing but sorrows.
Mother, mother
I cry to myself tonight
Because all I ever – all I ever really – tried
Was nothing but going against your words,
Nothing but crying out for the wrong loves.
Mother, mother
I have finally seen
The bitter that you never let me taste.
All you ever wanted me to know
Was what was sweet, what was best.
All I ever tried to give you
Was what was hurtful, what was worriful.
One thing I made for you, the sac,
Could never pay back for your creations
I know, I know.
Nevertheless, you would still give me
My life, my well being, my wealth, my senses.
Mother, mother
I would like to give you a hug
If it is not too belated to do so.
Mother, mother
I would like to take the sac back
Because I know it’s been all too onerous for you.

Friday, August 19, 2011

The Queen

The queen had a white face

With red lips, drawing the attention

Of the millions that cried out there.

The queen never let a drop of tear erase

Her dignified powder off her face.

The queen sat on the golden chair

And her beauty were coined with diamonds.

She had them on her body

To poke her heart through the invisible blood.

The queen stood there, silent

As if the cries of the people were reflected back.

She had the crown, she had the diamond-

She had the utmost freeze upon her aura.

The queen was always straight up

She had abundant diamonds, to twine her beauty

As to bruise her inside endlessly without mercy.

The queen dutifully wore the crown

In a way that no one could dare to touch

With absolute dignity and sorrowful nostalgia

Of the once peaceful heart, that she had in her youth.

When the queen went down

She felt the endless pain

But she never cried it out

For that was all that she ever knew.

And that - that silent tear finally fell

When she finally let her bear face be shown

As she took the last breath to say

“I am the queen to never fade”

Then her diamonds broke opened

For the final writhe, that even the queen had to struggle for.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Requiem Mass in D minor (K. 626) by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

I heard it.
I heard Requiem Mass in D minor (K. 626) by Mozart.
The deathly melodies flew around the room
And took over the last bit of a desperate soul.
It was tormenting, shall I make a guess;
Only could I hear the sound of a coffin.
What is it about human death,
I hope not to make it too personal.
When it becomes personal,
There is the mourning, the crying, the grief,
And the obsession we cling onto
That ruin us inside and out.
We all knew it to come.
Mozart composed a requiem, almost for himself.
I wonder if he had been imagining
Of his own death for the piece of music.
He was requested by the unknown.
With the extravagant passion and talents
He composed it and let the song cry loud
In the funeral of the very wife of his.
It was the great Mozart
That the God had sent to us
To create one magnificent piece of death.

My Cry Now

My simplest thought of being a human
Was utterly destroyed
When the leaves went deep down the road,
And when the city finally went quiet and dark.
The city lights at night reminded me
Of all the humane achievements I had attained.
Blinking at the spotlight of attentions,
My glory was shinning
As if it cared about humanity.
Those are only left in my blank eyes
Now to remind me of the contradictions within myself.
I remembered my happy self
When I was crying for diapers and foods.
All I can hear now
Is my silent cry for a human being.

Universe, rose, and diamond

Rose shines in the blue
Diamond shines in the blur
After a taste of sour and sweet
More than this more than that
No more waging, please no more waging.
Because you would appreciate a rose
Simply by it's red,
More among the blue
And you would fall for a diamond
Simply for it's clarity,
More among the blur.
Care more care less care equally
Stop that measuring, please stop that measuring.
What we have is what we have
When it vanishes among the calculated measures
That is it, we wouldn't even
Have any more of it left
To even sense or notice.
Let it flow, please let it flow
For the rose would be red and diamond clear
Even in the blue and even in the blur.