#24 The river I called home

on my moon I sit by the river I dip my fingers in the water introduce my ancestors, four times until my grandmothers come upon the edge of my tears the cemetery has been around for 150 years I can’t read on the gravestones buried…

#23 Fermentation scientist

I talk to fungi in the yeast and sanitize the moist environment where they bud and split die and mate I call it sexy some calls it gross how many generation it takes to form a bacteria colony how many fungus kingdoms exist in one…

#22 A photographer’s confession

he freezes motions in time manipulates colours by seamless calculations how many seconds light should come in the structure is an interpretation of memories like poets choose vocabulary to mimic ambiguity or craft cinematic sentiments that travel between seasons or a social statement fake from…

#21 The secret of phobias

they told me to overcome my fear I chose to ask my angst out to dinner doctors offered to cut the nerve I objected to his rationale to triumph my therapist taught me to let it out I decided to let it in fullly penetrate…

#19 We are walking paradox

a specialist of connection but good at self-isolation converted to the concept of community but allergic to relationships she professed her passion to lovers but ran away to a new country I teach seven generation principle but scared of children he fixes every broken things…

elephant odyssey

The elephant stood in the centre of the room steadfast like your father’s determination heavy like green mountains in the midst of earthquake ruins You forgot who you used to be You fell like you step out the spaceship without wearing a bullet-proof jacket into…

Son

Poem 24 Son He is his father’s son I look at him so many times Stealing glances And it always makes me smile He might not always know it but he is his father’s son His walk, his lips, his mannerisms, his tastes But he…

#16

Cancer of the mind had murdered him long before he passed away from the physical realm a whole circus used to live inside his belly that his noble soul found it unbearably entertaining unfitting for any hypocritical undertakings but his phallic muscle had been fueled…

Windows of My Soul

I look out and see the possibilities of my life.  A vast terrain that I’ve yet to explore.  It is growing and beautiful, ripe to be tilled.  There overhead flies an eagle showing me the heights that I can reach.  I hear the song. I…

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