I’m a speck on the floor trampled by almost all. I’m a ding in a car door waiting to be buffed out. I’m nobody, nothing viable, no value, no meaning. Just a modern day slave and flunky. Just a means to an end for some…

You’re Chinese! You’re Chinese! You’re Chinese! The words stung Even though They were true I’m Chinese I cried to My mother She said yes You are and That boy’s not I ran back Boasted I’m Chinese, you’re not The boy cried And ran to His…

I grew up feasting my eyes on the hypocrites Their speeches heightened And they grew grey hairs feeding from the swamp, stomach wars and woes, shame void The swamp had been a haven where harvests of deceit heaped up for years long The hypocritic rises…

“This way, beautiful,” he whispered, not there. Hands imagined intertwined as pines mist our morning air. Glories still asleep lead a pleasant dream into cosmic light – a fire hiding beyond our sphere unseen. Kisses! Oh, kisses as we laugh and play in busy days…

We are no longer flying the flag of our country, we are picking bodies, dead bodies of innocent brothers and sisters; protesters. The land that grew us is now thirsty, it’s drinking our blood- those who died of malaria: 100 those who died of hunger…

The art of empty walls, blank pages Intimidating, enticing, the artist, poet What colors, lines, words, beauty will honor the sacrifices made to create this place? What a blessing, a curse, it is to wield such power through brush, pen  

  banished for burning creator of the islands mischievous goddess   has Pele flowed on lava to play with fire in Maui  

I made a tiny fairy garden beneath a willow tree. Baubles, beads and tiny bells graced its fronds of green. I tied a button to a string and it became a fairy swing. Little flowers small and sweet, their fragrance filled the air I set…

You are nothing and nowhere compared to where I thought we would be, but that does not disappoint me. I think even without you realizing it, you’ve managed to let go of the expectations of the world and you found yourself. You stopped following the…

Back when the pants she wore were called dungarees the tomboy and I roughhoused in the backyard at Bradley’s house where a trellis produced white roses you could eat, so I was told I had suspected a trick but they tasted sweet Amid the grappling…