sweet – Page 2 – Portrait of Em.

conversation

In response to Octavio Paz’s “A Tree within”.

no i cannot,
i think i cannot,
and i found i cannot.

blind eyes,
deaf ears,

for the world has long become ignorant and arrogant
and the fire of passion
is put off —
dim and dark
and the blood is stagnant
and cold and bold and dead

for the gap between us
is too far to be skipped

the tree within is a tree within,
without branches to touch and to stay in touch with
without being noticed

come closer, can you hear mine?

no you cannot.

Written on 24 Jul 2014.

aeruophobia

i cannot help with the sense of fear,
what if it is the last time i see you,
who knows what would happen in the air,
or if it is the nature’s rule?

if it is the last time
i hold you and kiss you and declare my love;
if our love is a crime
and i am to be engulfed,

i wish to say
for the last time that i love
you and never want to stay away
from you, for true;

one last time to realize that life is too fragile,
too short, yet quick and fast
to be held, be grabbed for a while,
we got but a blast.

things are, for sure, unpredictable,
this is the fate
whether affordable,
too serious to love, to live and to hate.

Written on 7 August 2014,
the very first business trip.

to-our-world

Veiled is the world,
Sugar-coated, flower wrapped, covered smoothly with a thin piece of silk:
Pretty petit pity world.

Tangled Art,
Shadow beneath,
Raveled knots,
Opened locks,
Hidden gems retrieved.

Blurred amid the smoke emit,
Lights evoked, for one can never
Look at the real face of hers, like
A soon-to-be married bride,
Young girl,
Shy and sweet.

Written on 7-8 March 2014.

Love is miraculous, it is
A magic casted on us at a special
Moment in time,
Happily ever after, i pray, merrily going
Over and over and over, for
I am falling in love and knowing
You are feeling the same,
A little wish i make will
Never ever fade.

Written on 11 Jan 2014,
spells my name.

love

For love, as said, is like a shooting star,
Way up high and goes so far,
Cannot be kept in a crystal jar,
But it does grow,
Like the very unique flower:

No restriction,
No ropes,
No locks,
No knots,
With patience,
With water,
With the heart to love and the heart to be loved.

Believe in true love,
Because the love needs love to love.

Written on 3 July 2014.

thinking-together

Sloth leads to laziness in thinking and
Living keeps us staying awake.

“Thinking makes you a philosopher?”
— Thinking makes me a dreamer, I say.

“I am living in a dream
Dreams are existing in my life

When, am I awake?
When, am I dreaming?

Walk, Dream, Sleep, Dream, Live.”

You are existing in the dream and
Living in the dream.
For dreams become your reality and you are sleeping within.
So am I.

“I like how our words make a book together.”
Our book is made up of poems,
And our poems paint our dream.
We are the only two dreamy monsters
In this sweet lovely dream.

Written on 31 December 2013, co-poet is Cheron T.
Writing a poem together is fun.

home-coming

Home-coming,

Home-coming,
Right, my home, I am coming.

Here it is,
Quiet and high,
There it is,
Where I sigh,
Yes, I see,
Tides and waterfalls sometimes.

What was blue is now in pink,
What can be seen has all changed (“changed utterly”),
People once loved,
All disappeared and —
(Broken part lies in the deepest point at heart)
I am the only one who came.

The mind is drowning,
My soul is screaming,
Look at me, am I laughing?

Yes it is, it is,
Home-coming.

Written on 7 December 2013,
When I went back to my High-school.

twinkle-twinkle

Dear Twinkle Shooting Stars,
Where you hearts are?
For why have you gone up so far
And jump down like flashes and thunders?

Eyes.
Right, eyes —
Where are your eyes looking at?
Look so distorted and cold,
But sweet like sugar
Bitter like poison
And sour like the juice of a lemon;
Look so warm,
Yet feel so cold.

Dear Twinkle Shooting Star,
In love you are?
For love is like you, Shooting Star,
Once fell,
Can never go back at all.

Written on 24 November 2013.

va-len-tine

“Call me but love”,
Call me but love:
The path may be rough,
The road may be tough,

Yet having you with me, it is enough.

Make little wish to the dancing shooting star,
Heal the old wounds, and
Forget the old scars;
And the moment will last forever, and ever,
The tiny seed of our love will blossom into a miraculous flower, and
Give us the power.

Written on 14 February 2014,
To mine,
A little love poem
For the celebration of Valentine’s Day.

Happy Valentine’s Day 🙂

good-old-days

Good Old Days —
Sweet memories,
Great time,
Captured moments,
passed years.

Laughter,
Cry,
Hunger, and
Anger,
Nothing left but mourn,
Nothing lasts but change.

Screams,
Screams,
More S-cream-sss,

In the sea of time,
In the tide of growth,
Tired of the present,
Sick of thinking about future,

And therefore, wishing for the passed, again!

Merrily, merrily, merry;
Hopelessly, hopelessly, HOPELESS.

Good Old Days,
Slipped Old Days,
The always-perfect-old-days.

Written on 29 October 2013,
When everyone is talking about the good old days.

Stay awake to dream.

Tag: sweet