Daily, a Poem

The temperature is still, RISING up here, translated…

With the Steps Light

I’d, Walked on Those Memories Which Were Speeding Up

In a Dumb Daze, I’d Walked, Parallel to the Bicycle, Across that Street

Turned, into that Brick-Cornered, World, Filled with

The Blooming Flowers, and the Shady Trees

it’s, a global thing, not my photo…

Rousing Up the Borderline of Reality & Make-Believe

The Aromatic Coffee Took You to that Slow Intoxication

The Sugar, the Temperatures, and the Lights, Just Right

Providing that Sense of Safety

In the Cracks

The Current Life is always, Slowly, Eating Away, Sinking Down

this used to do the trick, but NOT naymore…not my photo…

When You’re, Most Unaware

You’d Already Predicted

The Moment You Would, Lose Your Foothold

Everything Fell

Light as Feathers, Yet, So Heavy Like Lead

The Weightiness Rubbed and Ate Away at Your Skin

The Blood Started Flowing Out, Scabbing

still heating UP!  Not my phoot…

What’s Lost, Will Always, be Returned, Back to the Origins

Like that, Never Ending, Karmic Cycle

Every Morning, with that, Sensitive, Dried, Clean Body

So, this, is after you’d slept, through a heated night, the night got hotter and hotter, and, you can’t have the air-conditioning on, because it’s going to cost you a LOT, as the price of electricity too, is on the rise, and so, you’d set the timer for a few hours, then, after the air-conditioning stopped running, you’re left, with this, extreme heat, and high humidity (b/c that is how the weather is here???), and you’d, waken up, covered in sweat, and, the day began, again…

 

On the Tracks, to Finding My Self…

I have conquered my metaphorical mountain. I kept telling myself I can do it. It was hard. It felt emotionally, spiritually and physically excruciating at times, and I did it. I asked myself, when I conquer this mountain, have a congruent past and the tools to live with PTSD, is that when I will feel […]

via I Seek to Feel Content — Untangled

Doubts of the Self…

I have broken my own bones, splintered them and placed them into bags, dozens of bags of me, and I have thrown them from the windows of speeding cars in hope that you will find me after the crash, somewhere where the good girls would never go, littered between back alleys in the dark parts, […]

via The Good Girls Are Always Found — The Lithium Chronicles

The Side of You, that Nobody Sees…

There’s, that side of you, that nobody sees, but me, but WHY me, huh?  Why do I have to be the one, who deals with that ugliest side of you, that you’d, not shown, to anybody ELSE?  And, where was it written, that I must, take everything that’s BAD, that you’d, thrown at me, huh?

not my artwork…

The side of you, that nobody sees, because you were, too afraid, to show that ugly side of you self, to anybody else, but, you’d, shown it, to me!  The side of you, that nobody sees, it’s, yearning, to get noticed, by others, but, each and every single time it tries to take over, you’d, suppressed it down, deeper, deeper, deeper, into the abyss of your minds.  You’d, refused, to give that side of you, that nobody sees, any “face time”, because, you’re, afraid…of what?  I’d, wondered………

The side of you, that nobody sees, I see him, and, strangely enough, I’d, accepted him as is, damaged, broken, incomplete, and still, loved that side of you, that nobody sees just the same, and because of my kindness, you’d, abused me with it!

Now, that side of you, that nobody sees, will, always, live in the darkness, it will, NEVER show itself, as I’d, stopped myself, DEAD in my TRACKS.  Gotten THAT much-needed wake-up call now, don’t you know…

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Broken Tree, a Poem

A Section from the Broken Off Limbs of a Dead Tree

Broken Through by a New Bud

What Did it Tell Me?

Like a Bookmark, Hidden in a Book

despite it being broken, it’s still, very much alive!  Photo from online…

At a Page I Had, Yet to, Get to

This is about, the origins of things, because papers are, made from the trees, and, the trees are, chopped down, while it’s still, growing…

The Night Train Home, a Poem

There’s that hint of, wanting to come home, and yet, there’s also, that I want to get away in this, translated…

Those Wandering Faces Looked Up at the Time Tables in the Train Stations

Those Tramping Shoes, Carried the Bodies, Entered

Into that Final Train

like this???  Picture from online…

At This Time, the Heart Can, Finally Rest

I am, the Moonlight, on the Return

Shivering, Against the Glass Windows of the Moving Trains

Peeping at the Shadows, Taking Over the Seats

How Were There, Two

Two Stiffened Bodies

I am the Light-Yellow Moonlight

Speaking to the Shadows, “I am a Classmate

From Your Middle School Years (the Instructor Spoke in a Combination of Taiwanese & Chinese, His Descent Was China, Can You Understand It?)

“The Big Guy Was Also, a Classmate of Your Middle School Class”

One of the Bodies, Was Me

the only one moving is you…photo from online…

“Meeting Someone I Knew on a Train to Elsewhere”,

That, Was How It’d, Felt, Seated at, the Two Seat in the Trains

“The Instructor Always Started the Class by Stating How He Originated from China, Can You All Understand Me?”

He’d Tried, His Hardest, to Speak in a Language that We Can Understand

As His Successor, You’d Worked, Even Harder

As the Train Passed Through the Cold Nights

The Moonlight & the Hatred All Turned into Frost

You are My Very Best Friend Back in Middle School

So, You’d, Shown Up, at the End of My Journey

You and I, Leaned Against Each Other

Shoulder to Shoulder, Becoming Wings

like this???night train animation 的圖片結果animation from online…

You and I, Returned with One Body, Back Home

The Frost-Bitten, Cracked Web on the Windows of the Trains

Became Like a Map We Traveled Together by

At the Terminal Station

Becoming that Stained Wet Moonlight onto the Seats

So, there’s, that strong sense of solitude, riding on this train toward home, and, maybe, the narrator knew what’s waiting for him back home, that, was why, he was, lingering on in the trains…