two-realities 

  

The fading boundaryBetween my two realities 

Lies the the edge of my sleep

On the stitches of the sleeves:
I stood on the steepest tip 

Of the antique clock

On the wall 

It said nine but it is pronounced seven
Early in the morning 

With the murmuring 

Of my brother and father

And the buzzing sound from the worn out radio,

Waking me up but it is not time yet 

Give me more rest before you regret 

見てるよ、夢より。

また…
Written on 12 March 2016

From the two realities

story-of-romance

Release my soul,
While murder most foul;
My blood has spilled
on the wall, dark and dull:

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves”
My death is nothing but
But the motif of i am beloved.

Release my mind
and keep me blind,
Leave me alone in the paradise
dark and dull.

Written on 13 January 2015
on linkedin group “Poetry and Literature”: A Poetry game

a-return

a return
from the hell of fire
from the heart of darkness
from the cave of silence
from the sea of despair

a place with hope and light
sometimes a heavy shower
or maybe a sip of breeze
or with the burning sun
and always twenty one

for decades or so
it is always twenty one
the mercy the play the craze the youth the fun

stupidity and innocence
where we believe we are old enough for choices and chances
shameless and fearless

a place of memory
a spot in the memory
a return

that can never ever return

 

Written on 25 November 2014
At HKBU — a place of memory after 3 years of studying

nightmare-on-and-on

every day and night
is hopelessly filled with flight
and nightmare silent air whitening hair dropping tears
contribute to the darkness in the room of despair that cannot bear

but who does care
for who is sewing every single thread
onto the cloth of bloody red
and what is not fair left unfair

 

 

Written on 28 October 2014

 

 

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rain

naughty little rain drops
falling, popping like an army of frogs
quick and secret and feared and stuck
in the absence of hope and luck

tears of the midnight sky
mourning for the little bird that could not fly
feeling lost and confused and lonely and sad
the magic spell is left unsaid.

 

 

Written on 15 October 2014.

 

 

 

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little-bunny-asleep

sweet sleep, long night, silent air —
a little bunny curled around the soft blanket
a tiny treat, dreaming sweet
nothing can compare with the warmth of the feet

good night, sweet dreams.

 

 

Written on 5 november 2014.

 

 

 

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nerves

lovely little birds from the north
pick up the messy lines of nerves
in the woods inside the skull
the thicker one is picked by a gull
and the thinner ones by crows
all but one of the warblers stayed and the room is stuffed full

crumpled nerves make a nest in the head
scratching
stretch
aching
squeezing
evacuating

the last warbler go with the robin into the woods
here they fly
heretheyfly

to the edge of sanity
to the border in front of melancholy

and they stopped
and they stopped

on the fragile branch of a tree
emptied wholly.

 

 

Written on 28 October 2014.

 

 

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