May 25

Doing the dishes

May 18

Brickwall with ivy

Has the ivy inhabited the brickwall?
Has the brickwall inhabited the ivy?

Whatever the case
Why?

In the summers it is hot
In the winters it is cool

Is it because red and green
are complementary colors?

Is it because their textures 
are similar because they are so rough?

Is it because they smell
like a car that’s in park?

Is it because they taste
like sawdust?

Well at least that’s what I think it tastes like
I don’t even want to put my tongue near them
Nobody wants to go near them
Not even the sparrows or the crows want to go near them

And now that I think about it
You all want to be together
because nobody wants you

If the brick ivy wall is being knocked down
not one of them goes down,
they both go down 

As the sun sets on to them
It doesn’t blind me

I’m seeing them blend
May 02

sky dazzling star

new stars and old stars are like fine wine
the older it is in the cellar of space
the more divine

when you look into a star
you are looking into the eyes of a dog
blackness and nothingness surrounding the special brownness in the iris
fading into the vicinity 
appearing a shade of a hershey’s chocolate bar

if a fallen star appeared at my doorstep 
it would shimmer and shine
forcing me to put on my sunglasses and hands up high

it would taste like the scrumptious lemon tart my sister makes
with all of its lemony heavenly desires in the middle
the crust tasting like cupcake batter

smelling like the lavender oil in the shower
the sunflowers in the plug-in air freshener
the vanilla candle in the sunroom
the yellowness

touching it has the feel of a smooth glossy samsung
gripping it has the texture of a green beanbag cushion
sensing its energy 

Apr 06

RELIEVED

The last 48 hours have been the most stressful of my life. Today, I have realised how thankful I should be towards my family, my friends, and, most importantly, my teachers and my principal. Anyways, I'm coming back to YWP and going to be sharing my poems again. This photograph was taken by my brother after all of the chaos subsided and it all ended. Relieved.

 
Feb 15

I'm here for you

I immediately got sucked into his world
and found an open world
a world with purple sky and lightning flashing every few seconds over a dark, cloudy ground

The world stretched out for miles 
I could see a circle of airy figures surrounding one person 
In the circle I saw the people he loved and disappointed and lost

I saw him with his knees to the floor bent down, crying into his palm
I saw that he was scared
scared to carry on with life 
Because the mistakes he made haunted him, mistakes he could not uncorrect himself 

I’m sorry I let you all down. I’m sorry I’m sorry

I walked over to him, took my hands with his and we stood as I gazed at him as his sobbing face stared at the ground 

I said

Hey

Don’t cry because it's over

Smile because it happened

Because we’re not perfect and we make mistakes.
Dec 08

I can't stop and it's driving me crazy

When I first heard you
I fell in love with
your laugh

When I first saw you
I fell in love with
your smile

When I first smelled you
I fell in love with
your scent 

When I first touched you
I fell in love with
your warmth

When I first kissed you
I fell in love with
your lips

Man I feel like I want to 
stop writing about you because 

When I first thought about having you
I felt so stupid

Here I am writing poems about you
yet you still haven’t noticed me
Nov 03

To stanzas

my stanzas
my precious stanzas

how miserable I felt two poems ago
writing in single lines

I felt frustrated
what is going wrong?

I felt confused
what am I writing about?

I felt nothing
why can I not have that feeling
that joy
that excitement
that freedom
that every poet feels?

I realized 
that I had lost myself
that you were lost
that I was alone
that you were alone
my stanzas 
my beloved stanzas

every poet
starts with the individual lines

it’s their first time after all
learning the craft of poetry
but once you find her
find my stanzas
you start feeling an emotion
this extinct effervescent emotion which floods your body
feeling bursts of joy throughout the day

you feel the hugs
you feel the smiles
you feel the night sky kisses
Audio download:
stanzas audio.m4a
Oct 05

In this world we are all finches

in this world we are all finches

we all line up on the branch like soldiers side by side

ready to sing our hearts out for the hummingbird sitting by herself on the branch above

sing, she says to us

we sing, hesitating not once to speak our feelings

dance, she says to us  

so we dance, conveying our emotions through our movements

love, she says to us

and so we love, expressing our affection for her   

the dashing finches have worked so hard to win her love

but she must choose one

only one

but you see it is not fair to choose

how do you choose the one even though we are all equally eloquent?

you can’t 

for the finch who is the strongest

who has the voice which can reach all to hear

who has the ability to sing the loudest and the longest and the hardest
Aug 30

YOU ALWAYS TREAT ME LIKE GARBAGE

WELL HOW COME YOU'RE ALWAYS TOXIC WITH ME?!

OHOHOHOHOHO I’M TOXIC?! HOW ABO- 

-AND LET'S TALK ABOUT THE TIME YOU CHEATED WITH THAT DY-


*releases the deepest sigh you have ever heard*

right on cue 

this happens every few months

and it seems something out of a tv show

two people have a fight that lasts at least two episodes and then they miraculously never fight again  

but in this case it gets louder and extremer after the last time
 
at first the bubble is small

but as time races on getting bigger and bigger 

one day it goes POP!

and all hell breaks loose
 
what do you mean last time? how many ‘last times’ have there been? which last time is it?

i don’t know or care

for every time it happens

the little eight year old girl cries with no one to console her 
Jul 13

The sky and, oh my!

My eyes lit up in wonder
as I saw the sky ta-day.

It possessed a special shade of deep blue,
with these delicate soft cloudy strokes of white.

They were all over the place!

Some were in pairs of lines
while others continued beyond the hori-
zon we could not see.

I imagine this vivid canvas was painted by God
or perhaps by God’s angels.

They seemed to be written in a 
language only we knew.

We walk under the sky,
following this sheet of music.

As the strokes are fading faster,
we discover the meaning.

So we run hard in hand
chasing after these strokes 
to see how this piece ends.

We don’t know how long 
it will take to unravel this piece,

but we do know
we will do it together.

And here we are
back to where we have started,

and I realize how
small this world is,

Pages