Snow, don't melt away

Coating nature like a divine blanket,
chilled to the bone, can mask all our footsteps,
twos’ and four’s spread out vanishing far away,
the feathers cling on to anything, everything,
a steady fall defying time,
a milky awe in winters chime.
Only that fiery orange can make them fade,
yet in that cool blue night they sleep briskly,
igloos reflecting youthful splendor,
everywhere that pure white stays the same,
a seasonal tingle with a euphoric twist,
a lasting mingle of yesterdays’ kiss.

Home

You can call it that,

that brick foundation in Chicago's womb,
that sixth floor complex under the red sun,
that quaint nook on the north side of the city,
that silent night stepping through Michigan Ave,
that resting place on the shore under a hallow summer moon,
that classroom filled with people who recall my name,
that apartment where those familiar faces became jocularly alive,
that old home within Pilsen back when nothing was broken,
that secluded fort my father built to keep monsters away,
that night driving while music blasted down western,
that Metra ride to Naperville nostalgic at what's there,
that midnight showing where our eyes met without care,
that warmth as the brittle midnight sank outside into dawn,
that comfort knowing nothing means everything as our hands fawned,

Home.
Yes, you can call it that,
and they are places I revisit again and again.

Cleanse

Hands cleansed of that ruby past, sliding into themselves,
rubbed on my damp forehead wiping those memories off like sweat,
eyes blink twice, first to recall all, second to repel,
body whispers, nerves wonder,
heart weightlessly pulls back like a swing at it's peak,
back aligns with all the momentum collapsing forward,
breathe reaching the clouds,
eyelids introduces that emptiness,
whole self lifting off into space,
counting not minutes, not hours, but days, months,
then...it all crashes like waves onto concrete.
I stare back at what's there, smiling,
nothing left.

Ode to Youth

That luster that shines with open eyes,

so wide they encompass mountains and emerald plains,

can’t hide their contagious laughter in the face of life,

nor the tears billowing like angelic fountains,

endless is just as possible as eternity,

space reaches their fingers and tickles them,

rosy cheeked and fawning over real love,

stricken by the sinuous roads at every turn,

yearning for that prince or princess to call their own,

the past is as bright as the future like a divine light-bulb,

never changing, nothing changes, everything is moving to something,

oh, those heartfelt movements sew up the deeps cut,

their surgeons who mend life’s empty shell,

we’ll try to force their heads into our narrow blinds,

confine them to chairs to stare at boards,

but some will still cling to that pink sunlight,

‘spite the carnage time brings.

Our War

Oh, that familiar gale pounding the window pane like a marching drum!

I thought I left the war, but its vigor never ceases,

pieces of dynamite puncture charred doors,

scores of soldiers lying waist deep in mud,

creases in the sky from low-flying bombers,

I imagine that battlefield funneling with artillery and gunfire,

trumpets blasting limps with their D-major scale,

pale faces roped by cymbals clashing the skull,

dull-eyed lunatics strapped with flutes ready to blow,

I conjure a parachute to float aimlessly among the barrage of bullets,

machines rattling like a broken jalopy trundling down the block,

stocked full of mercenaries drowned in thoughtless drive,

like a hive alive cause’ someone wants a taste,

paste those billboards and salute,

cause’ these days ain’t ending

till people’s voices tip the pot.

Flamingo Dancer

Dolled up in pink frill,

will the dancers please take their places?

Step her dear and don’t fear that first dip

since there are a lot more to come,

It’s your first time I know, I can see

You plea and beg for more, twirl,

You sweat and sing on four, swirl,

You smirk and kick and adore, furl,

allow my hands to rope your slim sides,

apply that leg at my waist to taste my skin,

that warmth on your neck is just my soul,

that feeling between your thighs my toll,

eye’s recede into darkness, a trance,

high lifting that body into space, a lance,

duo dance dangling doubts like exposed wire,

fire dies as the bass lulls, I bow and take my leave,

opening my palm to new pale hands,

won’t you take a seat fair lass?

I’m afraid your time has passed.

I’m sure that familiar song will play once again.

Aloneliness

I must confess,
surrounded by peaks poking like javelins,
drifting unfamiliar wafts of whooshing eastern winds,
spouting tongues that are foreign like I'm foreign from speakers,
motorbikes treading hear and there eying me suspiciously,
that ambiguous crack of the lips and slight wave,
these meals that have a common theme,
stepping into classrooms with eager minds,
following some unintended line tugging at my chest,
breathing in that thick white fog,
spinning in the countless city escapes barely able to mouth words,
it's nothing,

I revel in these times and don't regret,

but when I peek up at that same star blinking helplessly at night,
always waxing and waning begging for attention,
the moon offers it no home,
that fading light is being beaten by that purple nothingness,
being devoured into the creases of the sky,
I offer the star my mind,
to find what it yearns for,
that hand to hold,
that bonfire when cold,
those words that have been told,
cause I remember
the pain that loneliness unfolds.

Glue

Holding steady, ready
you are the unintended dart on the bar floor,
that golden pool being licked by all those strangers soles,
waiting there to be picked up, up, up,
between the ceiling and the floor,
a cellar door and a corridor,
mindlessly kissing,
then throwing up all that remains,
from the third floor,
vodka and rum doesn't mix well,
hell, hold tight to this joint and let your head spin,
that circle of smiles half-cocked and slanted,
planted like a shrub, rub, rub, rub,
blam!
It find's itself somewhere between here and there,
that bullseye, but I don't win,
instead stagger down Xi'an streets,
on cloud ten, when all the sheets rip,
heart thumps in the throat, imagining
what number one feels like,
dancing three steps hazily,
stomach lurching on to tomorrow's cares,
da, da, da, dandy handy dandy handy
enough said,
let's go to bed,
maybe pillows can comfort
my heavy head.

Walkin' and Talkin' Under the Red Sun part 5

Li’shan was where a friend and I ventured to last weekend. We got driven there by a car; the ride being two hours long, and the view during was well worth it. China’s countryside is simply stunning. It being such a marvelous day did help as the landscape was preen, shinning, and fluorescent. We passed a large lake that gleamed with a pale glow, stretched out endlessly with mountain tops and canyons and town etched silently under them. The road there was pretty barren which was good since our driver didn’t seem to be keen on the rules of the road, nor are any drivers here, which I will discuss later. We passed many tiny villages, saw boats docked awaiting the morning catch, and pedestrians wandering in the streets not going anywhere in particular. We then took a curving road that hugged mountain after mountain, going higher with no guardrail at the edges, nothing but a long dive into the ground. The mountains all were an ocher, shrouded by a light mist, with a bit of algae crumbling off the sides. Some of their peeks were sharp like javelins, while others sloped off like gentle waves. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene of treading through the twists and turns, sometimes having to stop to move displaced rocks that damper the road. The air was crisp, a cold gale sung as it whipped around the mountain tops, and some birds played catch overhead. We then got there.

It was more of a walk than a climb, but we didn’t mind—me especially since my ankle still ached. We started on planks down a prairie path, the thick grass grabbing our feet as we walked, and a few large boulders rested in particular points around us. We were high, noticing valleys receding below us, and more mountains obliquely, looming and sharp. We stopped now and again to just be engulfed by warbles of nature that peppers the ambiance; crows cawing, trees brushing, rocks sliding, and wings flapping. We kept walking, at first still in the open, climbing on rocks, letting our eyes vanish into this and that, then we got encompassed by trees, low at first, but then growing tall, so tall they covered the light coming in, with it cascading down like cool beams. We decided to traverse off the trail into the thicket and find a place to rest and eat. Brushing off the branches, brushing our knees on the dirt, and keeping our eyes forward we found an open spot to rest. I ate first, munching on a large piece of bread I brought and drinking some water while he slumbered behind me, I then slanted oblique on the grassy patch.

I didn’t think I slept, or, well I was in that stasis between consciousness and subconscious with my mind floating into the in-between while the noises surrounding me painted my mind. There were many nice colors, endless blues that sailed through the sky, jade greens that flowed forever at your feet, and the purple nothingness that is sprinkled with sparks that last for eternity. It’s nice being in such place alone with your thoughts since those thoughts are only beautiful, why live in the scorn and the hate, since what’s beautiful is what really matters.

We got up after an hour and kept on the trail. We reached a path that featured jagged trees curving like witch fingers and their branches spindly reach out every way. It looked like an old haunted forest with soft thin leaves that we ran down as the path lead. Our last monument was a gap between two mountains that was bridged by millions of large rocks and a rock path that lead you to the other side. And of course we jumped from rock to rock instead of taking the path. Some Chinese people met us on eventually on the other side, staring at us like all do, and began asking us the common questions are lives here have been filled with. The way back was treacherous, us not realizing how far we have gone and how far up we had to go back. When we got back we decided to walk a bit to the other peak nearby just to look out. He started to climb a boulder in the background. I merely collapsed on a rock lying below it, recollecting, admiring, and enjoying everything that has brought me to this point in my life.

Judge and Execution

The murky and damp courtroom is big enough to seat four, the judge rustles his gown awaiting for the plaintive to began, her lawyer is a polished rationalist in a suit and tie, slick back hair, and pacing confidently in front of the podium. She is teary-eyed, doubt rings on her primrose cheeks, as her brown eyes scan the nothingness in the air. "She was left alone your honor," the lawyer begins, manically raising his hand at the empty seat where the guilty party is suppose to reside, "She wept and lamented in his arms on their final day and was heart broken to the brink of insanity, and he did nothing to help her," she starts to cry as the memory attacks her, forcing her to cringe, "And then, after a month of being separated, he has the gall to attempt to get back with her," the lawyers voice rings through the barren courtroom stirring the judge, "Why, all of a sudden does he state he loves her, I will tell you why, it's because he is alone, afraid, and affected by the sudden change in his life, not really caring for my clients sympathies," the judge nods his head as the lawyer offers him documents, "If you would kindly read these notes, here it clearly states my clients constant attempts at yielding a response from him telling him she loved him, which he neglected to respond to till they parted ways," she wipes away the tears as the heat from the room builds like a bonfire, her skin starts to harden, "If you look at the next page you can see that he wasn't the best boyfriend, when they were together, constantly making her do things, arguing with her, putting her down, poking fun at the things she did, he has nothing to say to himself, obviously, since he is not present," she shakes her head at the thoughts, they must be true she says, they must be, if he loved me, he would have been there, suddenly a loud banging from the wooden doors in the back, he busts through as the judge brings down his gavel like a snare, he is out of breath and crying, "What is going on!?" he shouts, spotting his love who stunned but not flinching, "Your honor I would like to strike anything he says from the record," the lawyer quickly fumbles, "Bullshit! How can you talk about us without me here? Shouldn't I get a say? Shouldn't you hear my side?" he states in a gasp, "Your side is meaningless, the only important matter at hand is to relieve my client of the pain you caused her," the judge again nods absently, she is fiddling with her finger, glancing down, not able to look at him, "I didn't mean to do that, it...it was just what happened, I needed time to know, to really know how I felt, is that wrong, is that wrong!?" he attempts to speak to her directly but the lawyer shrouds him, guards him from her, "Not knowing makes us question whether what you say is true or not, since if you did love her you would have stood with her, been with her, done all you can to not let her go, but you left her alone, in pain, dwelling by herself thinking about you everyday," he staggers, but gets his footing once again, "What do you think I have been going through, it isn't as though this has been easy for me, I'm in a new world, new place, with new people, I didn't know if I would be able to commit to her, to you, I had to be sure, I had to stop thinking with my mind and listen to my heart, you have to believe me," he keeps trying to speak around the lawyer, but the lawyer is to encompassing, he can't speak to her directly, "With your heart! My client has been speaking with only that for so long, she is now fed up, she is done, she doesn't believe a word of this dribble, it's all over, you have to move on," he falls again to his knees, weakly, his stomach churns and aches, a deep pang is felt, he is exhausted, he grabs on to a nearby table for support, "See your honor, he isn't able to stand the truth, my client is through, she has tried and tried to be with him, love him, cherish him, and all he has done is spit in her face, she deserves--" he punches the lawyer, knocking him out of the way, running to her, holding her hand, her eyes are sharp but staring away from him, "I love you, I do, and I want to be with you, that is the honest truth, all the things that have happened to us will only make us stronger, yeah we had our troubles, but so does everyone, can't you look passed that? I remember the last time we spoke you said you loved me, we listened to each other breathe, wasn't that real? I know you still love me, but were hurt by what I did, more than I can imagine, and I'm sorry, that is all I can say, I'm sorry, you wanted to be with me before, so I don't know what changed, please, tell me, what changed, what has happened, I will do everything, anything to be with you, just let me in," he ululates but his words have met a brick wall, not chipping it, she is stone-faced, nothing but hate is seen in her reflection, "You are only looking at the good things, you are living in the past, you are alone and scared, you don't really love me, you love the idea of me," she spouts still not giving him her eyes, her words cut him, "What were the bad? Where you not happy!?Tell me, so I know. I'm not in love with an idea, I'm in love with you and only you, you for who you are, not who you were, what can I say to prove that to you? Look at me" she keeps her eyes on the lawyer as if speaking with his mouth, "All this is just fantasy, you didn't treat me right, we had so many deeper issues that grew and grew, nothing but resentment," "I don't resent you and never have, and all these issues are unknown to me, what are they, what?" he keeps trying to glance into her eyes, but they are not hers anymore, she has been beguiled, too many jackals whispering in her ears, he sees that she has morphed into them, into those cold emotionless beings that soothe the pain, "You creep me out, you have to move on," she burns, still not peering at him, he is stunted, taken-back, halted in his tracks, his mouth gaped like a bass, two officers grab him by the arms and carry him away forcefully, the lawyer smiles cynically, brushing his hair back, she doesn't offer him one last look, shuttering, gazing down at the immense nothingness at her feet.

Anger/Hate/Love

It can nullify all that pain seeping into your pores,
even though it brings others pain,
It can make sense all the mysterious and illnesses,
even though it isn't a lasting remedy,
It can force hate upon something you truly love,
even though you honestly care for them,
It's easier than living within the doubt,
even though it's beguiling,
It's only a step away from losing all that you hold dear,
even though you fear the outcome,
It's what they say is the best way to deal with the game,
even though they themselves were put to shame,
It's appealing, yes, but lest we forget,
how intense it is,
since you must have some great feelings,
in order to be able to bestow
such great pain.

Phantoms

Mountains swing by like waves, drifting carelessly on the road,
eye's fixated on the dimming twilight,
mirages that touch skin cold but real,
peel back clouds to reveal emptiness,
or infinity.

Hand is clenched to mimic that love that soothed to sleep,
parallel in body, but folded into each soul,
divided by space, but united by mind,
held breathe paints landscapes in gold,
or black.

Endless bubbles float helplessly with different scenes,
pestered and assaulted by time,
gripped at the throat by one's self,
fall back into your own heart where it is warm
and smile.

Sleepwaking

Awakened by the custard glow across the way,
wearyingly wiping sleepy tears,
lying supine on a frozen couch,
darkness looming like a cape,
air soothingly massages my feet,
hands guard me from haunting dreams,
imagining those fireworks bursting gaily like pinwheels
cycling the sky,
telling time,
reds, oranges, and blues chime,
lofting promises at empty facades,
voyeur of the strangers living next-door,
speaking foreign tongues and ancient ways,
tip-toeing ghosts echo outside,

tick-tick-ticking,
beat-beat-beating,
breath-breath-breathing,

a zeppelin soaring freely skyward,
clouds brush by with minimal affect,
twinkling twos,
smiling moons,
holding hands off the banister,
motor humming like a river,
lips fresh like cool milk,
light as hair,
we keep telling ourselves,
I want to be there.

2 Doors

1.

Painted with a primrose pastel, resembling that rosy dawn, frond,

sealed shut for month, beguiling hardness, rash, decisive, definitive,

knob collecting dust, chipped, blanched, shifting away from his grip,

his lips garble, parched, bridging the empty nothingness sprawled at

his feet lunge but furl suddenly as it floats shyly further into another—

he can’t hold the stern veering in the opposite direction, magnetized,

eye’s absorbed by the heat radiating off the door, warmly flickering, each

section remembers his touch, impasto hand prints, two, only one is his own,

on his hip, the key taps wearily, he glances at it, the keyhole shots moonlight,

he tries to peek in but only a faint image of beauty and croon whimpers, the

key singeing his palm, he gasps, tremendous, forcing him to the ground, with

ease, he attempts to place his fingers around it, but no, he can’t move, frost

creeps across, cracking, tightening, no, not yet, he can’t, he hasn’t the power—

***

That subspace is colder than any winter he has seen. Those looming greys lurk

like umbrellas plastered to hide the sun.

No voices here, only the distinct silence that eerily chimes due to one’s own move—

meant to waver only minutes here not days.

Shifting weather in cyclones, globular fluorescents, he stands not on ground but—

what difference since his heavy eyes weep.

His arms are yanked both ways by forces not his own, attempting to contract that—

completeness of absolute self-mastery.

It all looks so glorious when the light pierces confusions like fresh butter whether

you or I will sign that biography to settle down.

***

2.

Midnight with infinite specks bursting with aura like a bomb,

can’t see the handle at first, engraved deep, must reach your

hand as far as it will go and feel. That bite stings at first but

it will subside, like the unfurling of a storm, massive eyes wink

nonchalantly as you peek through, coquetry, those lucid reds,

he can’t remember what the appeal was. It’s heavy, broad,

a burden perched on his back, but, upright, high, peering into

thousand lanes of possibilities. It’s easier here, they harangue,

he takes a few steps in, his feet denting the cement, permanent,

glancing back at that old, is it still old? Can it still bring him that

smile that he wants? They grab at him, saying this is right, but

he shakes them off and shuts the door tight. He would rather wait.