Poems


Untitled

March 21,1997

The jittery pause
unsettled
till
soften heart
holding
it
anguish blood
distill
you
crystallized
flaming
me


White Night

Feb.6,1998

Sun, crispy icy one, bordering cozy sleepless Swedish night,
upon the restless candle, millennium of transparent spirit fry.


Dozed eyes flicking velvet dream in the well of blue sky,
breath, lips blooming petal of pigeon blood.


Light, the passing one, come thus earlier for spring yet thus far from summer.
why the blue gaze thus clear in the white night?


Home

March 16,1998

Cozy flame sitting upon the creek
Kissing wind flirting sun
Air of love rambling under the giant dome
Intimacy in the open blue sky
And here you are,
The net of the naughty sun shine!

 

9,15,1998

Disk of ancient mirror slipping slowly, upon
The surface of early muddy spring creek 
By drowsy decay
The color of weakening tender green, hidden  
Under a shadow of distanced spectator
 
Moist early full-moon, warmth 
Chips in dusk obscure horizon
Mystical lemon at shattering sky
Mermaid of the summer night
Stare steadily upon
The prisoner of ardent soul

 

A Forgiven Dream

2,21, 1999

 
If the darkness can suffocate the whispering hope
If the breath can be perished 
As a piece of tender leave socking in such a cold air
what does keep us to tie
A tiny join on the endless thread of kite?
 
Rat is rambling on its own course, diligently
Through the tracks, Subway
Bum slept in his own comfort
 
If the light can pierce the soul
If the spaces can alter the mind
what does keep us to fly 
Away from the thread of kits?
 
 
Trembling Heart...
Feb.22.01
 
Tangible brush of syrup 
Draws millions of fine lines, steadily 
Upon the trembling chest
The tip of angle's wing touches, nervously 
Upon the electron of bliss, suspended 
On the brittle string, heart
Quivering in the layers of neurotic lustre
The sickness prevail the limps
Whether the tremor is from love or fever
The liquid of ardor erect very cells of the body to cry
Whether the shiver is from brush or heart
 
Embrace of soul immerses
In the endless sleepless bright night
Through very corner of the veins in comfort
There is a flat whistle from sky: 
You are--- mine
There is a yell in the silky acoustic arch
Silent
 
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