Me

The reflection made it clear

the mirror perfectly resembled me

could it be this simple, this easy

to define me?

Time

As if time stood still

they were too scared to move, to lose the moment

but the clock did not hesitate

they lost it, the moment, with little effort

No chance of going back

Boxes

Take me out of this box you made for me!

“You don’t look like a terrorist” she says to me.

As I take a sip of my drink, I smile, for she thought she complimented me.

I get lost in the ignorance… or maybe it’s innocence that puts me in such a box.

Should I change my name? Maybe dye my hair blond just so you can relate to me?

 

 

Trees

The dead trees cried to me once
It is cold here
Help me—too big to have a shelter, too attached to my roots to move
The cold winters took away my loyal leaves
Left me with naked branches, lonely
Cover me…help me
But I didn’t hear them; I was too cold to pay attention

(By me, written March 2010)

The Pond, Part 1

A hesitant kiss on the cheek, close to her mouth,

He doesn’t know what to do, can’t stop the train.

Soon she’ll be gone.

The frogs in the pond, he yelled, they are begging you to stay… it’s not just me!

These trees! They cried all night while you laid between the sheets.

And you know the cricket, that one that you asked me to take outside, he sung by our window all day long…it’s not just me dear, it’s not just me!

She couldn’t look him in the eye. One way ticket is all she can afford. Is all she wanted– secretly.

The vibrations of the ground told him that the train is near.

There’s nothing he can do

He looked at her, with a sad smile: “look at me darling!”

“You know, the mountains won’t meet the flat ground you’re going to…the smell of hot concrete will make you miss the pond’s stench. The stars! They won’t be visible dear! Won’t you miss the stars?”

Her cold hands that he held on to were so warm once.

She wasn’t in love anymore. The pond was a thing of the past…she’s ready for the next train.

She didn’t even pack her cloths

A hand bag is all she took, filled with papers and colored pens… and a dried old flower that he couldn’t remember giving to her.

She hasn’t stopped loving him; she just needed a new muse.

Her fuel was inspiration and the pond has run out.

(By me, written Feb 2012)

A Thanks to Earth Poem

A thanks to Earth,

Immigrant I thought I had left my home

Here to a new place where I did not belong

But as I saw the moon I did not feel so alone

 

Comforted by what I knew, I stared into space

The clouds looked familiar

And between the cracks of grey sky I found my place

The stars knew me and the sun could relate

Then I understood

The earth is vast and it does not discriminate

(By me, July 2016)