Posts
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Headache
Wine and aspirin
Post hoc ergo propter hoc:
A phrase I learned watching The West Wing,
My prize for tolerating incessant mansplaining.
Each night, a bath water baptism.
Soft jazz, a cluttered desk swept clean. -
Round stones
This afternoon I step delicately, avoiding the cairns peppered precariously down the undulating edge. I fondle the many colors of smooth granite, noting the short distance between green and pink.
Almost grey, -
Roots
Tradition transcends history;
genocidal feasts
have become something lovely.
But what right do we have to ignore our roots,
while we give thanks for life?
Ritual:
turkey -
Jewels
I lost my pomegranate passion,
when I found my stained lips.
Standing naked under the rain,
Is too whole to satisfy.
I ache to tear myself open
and hide in the cracks. -
The Always Edge
The unconvertible have closed themselves to spring,
to dying.
I watch the cornflowers.
Wind and gull cries
pull the flowers from themselves,
until they are only blue. -
Music and Me
Music trembles as it carries me. I am brittle, my many pieces buzzing. The friction of the universe contained in me. Silence and sound, grating against each other. Time and space, laughing in their cruel dance. Their song is gone. I am only whole.
Loves
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Hing Ze
My mother immigrated from Hong Kong to America during her high school years, and continued to live here for college, through early adulthood, till now.
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Hood Rats: A collection of Poetry- About 5 PM
5 pm
Is a time of day where it's not quite night yet.
Some would say, The day is young.
Others would argue, the day is over.
They will get in their cars and drive home to their families.
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The Silence Market
In a world where every digital breakthrough to age-old traditions stood as symbols of our progression, it wasn’t the advancements themselves that captivated us, but the revolution of our words.
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1st day of school
"Tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it yet." ~ L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables
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The Stories in Lines
In each person, there’s a story,
one you may or may not know,
but in every person,
there are hints of their long story,
such as in their beauty.
Around their mouth,
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cardiac
last week, my brother dropped his heart
on the pavement and we both
watched as it cracked right open,
spilling in red ribbons and golden gears