Posts

Note #1

​Your eyes remind me of summer; A little dance at the beach, Street carnival full of confetti They remind me of a good friend; Hours of phone of conversation, Finishing each other’s sentences They are layers of impressions; Maelstrom of battles and celebrations, Tesserae of unfinished mosaic art I wish i could catch a reflection on them The exact angle they took from across the table But you wouldn’t let me get a careful look

Fake Stars

​ ​ Cold beer, night fireworks at the fair. Strangers’ faces were illuminated by yellow and purple light of the flare. I read them a poem, and they said they ’ve never heard something like it anywhere. We all learned how well giggles could conceal all our nightmares. But did they ever see me when i laid me bare? Cold beer, night fireworks at the fair. I heard myself mouthing hopeful words like it’s a prayer. Ignoring the high altitude where i breathed the thin air. I thought i was levitating, i guess i just felt light-headed and pretended not to care. And i would go telling myself a hundred times that my heart couldn’t go despair. Cold beer, night fireworks at the fair. In all honesty, i despised these fake lights thrown to the open air. Whose sparks died within seconds like short love affair. So i fixated my eyes on those stars that shined bright beyond compare. I tried to hold  tight this alexandrite for it was rare. -k

Enneagram #2

​A trail of puzzle pieces on the road Getting full picture of oneself I used to be the wordsmith you adored Picking only pretty vocabs from the shelf They say, give only lovely thoughts Cause they keep souls away from the grave So I sang for you some major chords About how you love sunsets and the ocean waves Through the night though the air felt cold I was so lost in you till i forgot to save myself -k

Dance Practice

“Watch and learn my dance”, the shapeshifter said. My eyes never missed his littlest moves, i couldn’t stop grinning at his twirls and turns. I began  to circle him, still with my curious face. I asked him where he learned his glissade from, but he didn’t answer. His purple spirit was all over my skin like feather dust, tickling my senses. Before i knew it, his melody enticed me and i mirrored every single step he made. In every turn he changed into something different like waves crashing down the seashore, it looked so fascinating. When the music finally stopped he said, “Many of my layers sheded off. Can you tell me who i am now?” as if i have forgotten the man who walked into this room a while ago. Then I imitated his beautiful little glissade move once again. I waited for his surprised look that never surfaced, and i told him; “How can i not know who you are? It is all i ever see and care about. Do you think i care about your metalic vest full of embellishment? Not a seco

Iridescence

Little bird, little bird, how exquisite is your color Ultraviolet metallic from one angle, Caribbean blue from another angle No painter in the world can mix colors on their palette to portray you precisely You pluck your own feathers and leave them all over your path purposely Inexperienced observers will always misunderstand the pattern and think you are crazy But you learn to be okay with it, you have always been okay with it Little bird, little bird, if your flock was anything like you, You must have felt sorry for them cause it wouldn't be a simple ABC Under your right wing is a giant pool of impressions- most of them sink too quickly as the new ones surface. Others have been trying to ride at your tempo, only to see themselves making a baffled face in the mirror It's not their fault, and let me tell you that it's never your fault too Little bird, little bird, all you've ever wanted was to fly and sing freely But sometimes you were trapped inside thes

Ghost

His trace inhabits every fraction of my mind, lingering like a thousand dollar perfume, lurking quietly  in the shadow of anticipations. What would i sing, if he's every song? How could i speak, if he's my language? What would i dream, if he's my only imagination? Now that he ghosts and i am on my knees, i've been counting days in the loudest silence, wishing upon the pouring rain to cleanse away his stain.  But deep down, i know he will never leave me completely. And i hope someday somehow he will know, that everytime i didn't reach out to him, i almost did.         he's never really gone / k.u. 

One-Sided Expectations

You built a castle out of innocent souls  and your throne was carved from optimistic hearts, but you long for loyalty and honor. Your kingdom reigned under contradictory ordinance, yet you wonder why it all collapsed so easily. You created a playground full of tricks and traps that would only work for the naives, but you wish you could stumble the brilliants. You decided to level up the tricks,  yet you wonder why it trapped yourself down instead. You arranged a chess tournament along with its rules that changed everyday, but you expect a fair and fun game. You forced non-players to compete while intervening their maneuvers all the time, yet you wonder why they all left the table. You made people to involuntarily read confusing script  of a play you have written  and assigned them ambiguous roles, but you blamed them for misinterpreting the characters. You adjusted the plots too many times, yet you wonder why the actors decided to create their own final revelation scene. You sailed on