Red Moon

I can feel the heavens opening
they’re wrenching through my mind
shafts of light piercing
throughout my insides
The earth telling me I’m Sister
Mother whispered on my bones
Smothering my linings
The eternal story
forever told

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(YOU)NIVERSE

I SEE NOW
WE FEEL YOUR RIPPLES
PULSING THROUGH OUR
FLESH FEELING BODIES
BUT WE DONT KNOW
HARDLY CAN KNOW
BUT ALWAYS TRY TO KNOW

ITS GENESIS

AH SO DO YOU
ONLY FEEL THE WAVES
AFTER THE FACT
LIKE US LIKE
MORTALS FROM DUST
TO DUST?

I CANT TRUST INSTINCT
I CANT TRUST WHAT HAS BEEN
LEARNED
BUT TRUTH
LIES IN BOTH

WAIT

MAYBE YOU NEVER KNEW EITHER
OR
YOU DID NOT KNOW YOU KNEW
LIKE I NEVER KNEW I KNEW
A THOUSAND EPIPHANIES
AFTER LOOKING IN THE
NIGHT SKY
OR YOUR EYES

I ALWAYS ASKED: WHO?
BUT IT WAS ALWAYS IN
YOU YOU YOU
A THOUSAND WORLDS
A THOUSAND YEARS
GRAINS OF SAND COULD NEVER
AMOUNT TO

BUT I BREATHE THEM IN
YOU BREATHE THEM OUT
WE BREATHE WE BREATHE
WE
BE
WE
BE

I SEE

The peace and quiet of the free world

The peace and quiet of the free world,
Bathed in obscurity–faces
Which pass like blank slates
For our own imagination’s sake
Imagine
Your world colored with your own pallet; a world of white noise
Interlaced with
Stark grey lines
Smudged like a  water-stain;
Disruptions in strange purity,
In strained piety,
In sustained propriety of
An upper class dowsed in
An eon’s worth of bleach–
Scrub out the stains, but
It left the soft lines more blurred,
Leaks between pictured life.

The vanity of an ideal world.

Nobody

I think of a million lives

A million lives I could’ve had

Each breath the intake

Of a different universe

An infinity of ways

Of journeys

Of roads

Of bodies

Of anything you could imagine

And what you couldn’t!

Then a moan and a gasp and

Why this one?

Each day I awaken in a new dawn

Of the same old universe

Particles recycling till the end of

Not even time, what isn’t made up?

But I keep gasping to life

In one life that a million

Could have took

And shivers run up every spine

At some point

Couldn’t my hands have too if Tao was any other tao?

Then a turn and a sigh

Why this one.

A Guava in Summertime

In the summertime
I found a guava
split open
on the ground, soft
pink insides spilling
out hot.
Sick sweetness,
opened fruit–squishy and ripe.
Seeds encased in tender,
frail water membranes float
in the warm, flushed fruit flesh.
Rosy and blushing–the candied tissue
would feel slick and stick
like honey on my tongue.

Khimaira & The Mirror

Khimaira

Floundering,
I struggle for consciousness,
grasping
for anything,
anything,
tangible to hold–
I slip
and the whole
of the sopping slope
falls down with me,
ungraspable slime,
the sludge of
half-attempts at
dichotomous chimeras;
experiments in the fusion
of human emotion
and reality–
only water and
dirt remain.
Perhaps, fission is to blame:
the split in the
human brain,
so while I gasp,
I drown in rain.

The Mirror

When will we know the meaning of it?

This paradoxical buoyancy,

At once we are sunk in

The depths

And suddenly gasping on top–and

The mirror we face

Is our ceiling,

But it reveals the sky.

Loud – a poem for you and I and Seattle Pacific

I wrote this today after overhearing a woman say “Columbine” in the street of my suburbia in Seattle. I am a student at SPU. I am confused–about how to think and to feel about the events that transpired on a campus that has been my home and haven for the past 3 years, as things have been altered forever after Thursday. 

It was whispered
In the street
But just as loud as
The image of reds and blue
On screen
For hours
And we watched from safety
A place too familiar
Defamiliarized
I didn’t know it anymore
We don’t know it
Anymore
Your bright colors changed it
You must have known
How loud taking a soul
Is–energy has to go
Somewhere–
And you rang it out in quiet halls
And now even whispers
Of the past brought to present
On a busy street
In a big city echo like
The sirens you brought
And are too loud

 

But “Heaven couldn’t wait for you”. 

 

Like Scales

Your scales brandish brightly
brandish in light in water
slightly slight movements
with wings for flight might be
like scales balance light and
me and scales balance dark
to be or not banish sight
to see to see out dark eyes
light reflecting weighing the bright
each scale slips and shrugs
shrug on and off the light
shrug up and down like my birthright
brandish beam and close with night

A New Poem and A Revision

This first poem, “Untitled”, is a revision of the same poem, which was posted in an earlier post titled A Taste of That Angst. I cut out lines that I thought were awkward or too personal–a problem that is often cited by critics. Let me know what you think. Does it enhance the feeling of the poem? Does it damage it? Which version do you prefer?

Untitled 

my body is a vessel for misery
i hold sadness in my bones
and pain in my lower back;
i search for balance
like the scales that are my birthright,
or the push and pull
of the ocean tides
listen
to the saddest notes
the natural world has to offer

my body is the basin of the
deepest sea,
where darkness and
ugliness lie,
intricacy and complication
and things that should not exist,
like thorns and spikes and spires
that protect matter of such a
fragile beauty
like a thin skeleton
or a soft, pulsing heart

my body is heavy like a rain cloud
full of dark, crackling tension
and sparks
so unpredictable
when
will
I
strike
or where will my rain fall
in heavy droplets
covering barren and parched ground,
too much,
so that it saturates and drowns
all innocence, all living
but what is innocent on this
darkening plain
from up in the sky
all looks so small
but
I am you
and so I weep
and ache from feeling all too much

my body is a vessel for misery
I hold sadness deep in my bones
and anguish in my lower back

 

Womanhood

Swollen,
tender,
I feel my
own womanhood
rise and
fall–
an influx and
outflow
I cling to
the differing labors,
the biweekly seasons:
flowers and
peaches and
rot,
which run through
my tree–
each season I feel
and give it
my own
infinity,
and then the leaves
fall
or the trunk
swells
and winds feel both
too swift
and
too soon.