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| My Poems |
| Cry a face, I dare not look disfigured with despair too shocking and image like a mighty rock stabbed bleeding from a wound that no one sees warm, salty water like a stream running down my face expelling poison for all the times I didn't or couldn't or wouldn't burying a sobbing face in the cold comfort of my hand but it's little solace New York City Sounds vibrate through the busy background a buzzing, a humming that does not feel Boom! CRASH! sound effects that always peal but no one hears that eternal sound Bees buzz in unison failing to notice their complement too busy to care or show sentiment until a collision Too many lives and so many sounds an invisible army, marching as one but down different paths, none into different grounds. Running You're not good enough, they say "Walk home now, you loser. You're just a poser in $100 running shoes." All the cars chuckle, and all the houses taunt. But my feet do not listen. Because fear is just a whisper compared to the mighty crash of my sole pounding the pavement. Rain Storm An insignificant drop not much when falling all alone but all its fellows won't stop revitalizing land, dry as a bone Systematically, but spontaneously drenching land within one's eye's view fulfilling thirst that is quenching no one knows if madness will ensue One by one, the tears of the sky fail to fall down to earth clouds, not needing to cry no one knows when will the next rebirth |
| A Solemn Haiku a chorus of moans and cries faded in the past good-byes belated Haikus of Early Spring The first blossom of spring Tiny buds emerge Forgetting winter's long frost Dots against the sky Wind Its might feared by all Forcing tree branches to dance A cruel master of spring Squirrels Little spring creatures Acrobats climbing through trees Leaving winter rest Bare skin Bare against the sun Absorbing heat as it comes A sure sign of spring The Line Where is the line between illusion and what is real? Where is the guard rail before the cliff of madness? Where is the safety line on life? The breaking point or the line of reasoning? Senioritis Useless like a rag-doll but not as pretty mind turning to mush future to the damned Infernal injustice hellish endeavors the mind dips low but plunges fast. |