Share |

Apr 17, 2014

The Usual Non-Plain We Had

It feels more, but it is less.
It looks bright with a dim light.
It is frozen with a heat.
It keeps going on, but it doesn't go anywhere.

It feels heavy to open, but I stay awake.
It tastes sweet on the lips, turns sour on the tongue, and it goes bitter on the throat.
It brings laughter in the beginning, smiles in the journey, but tears at the end.

It flies like a butterfly, but landed on the ground as a snail.
Moving... moving... it will take the whole week to get to the end of the road.
Until the heavy rain falls, without thunder, without sunlight, black and wet.
It is too hard to cope with the situation. 

But at least it doesn't look plain, it doesn't feel flat, it doesn't mean empty.
It has volume, it has texture, it has taste.
It leaves a memory to remember, that I was there, that you were there, that we were there.
It is love I guess, that I can no longer join in a quest.

Apr 13, 2014


Stutter, Suffocate, Surrender.

Feel slender after a slaughter, feel smarter before the soldier.
Staring at the shiny stars, sounds scary for even a spark of the light sheds.
Shrieking selfishly, speaking that sophisticated wisdom softly.
The sky starts giving spatter, but then it goes shattered. Shall I continue or shall I leave?
As I try to spray this secret spice, what I smell is a smear.
See through this smoky horizon, I'm still singing the same old melody; sniffing, swinging, solving a series of stuff.
Sting is what I feel along with a shiver, I suspect that I will seize the summer with a sinner.

Soothe my shoulder, will you? I'm sinking.
I said sorry that I spilled something out.
Something that brings sinister to this Spartan universe, something far from smiley faces on your screen, something that sets the stage silent, something that the sun never wants to shadow. Something sleek by a sneaky swindler.

Stop it! I'm screaming. Serendipity spins, would you still fancy to win?
Six o' clock stretches to seven, and I still have no soul to shut this stupid silly story.
Sentence serenades into a song, slowly... slowly... sober I still.

Sleep tight in that spacious shelter, survive will come later, but sadness will sacrifice this solitude greater.
Severe sorrow I sense, yet I don't want to spend, this will soar to an end.
Swim swiftly, Sweetheart, and set to sail soon. Someday...