Silver, jade, emerald,
life is the most valuable.
Light it up to the utmost,
in the dark the secret holds.

Summer evening, cricket choring,
high alert for the mosquitoes.
Bothering the flesh as the eyes roam.
Field of grass just turned gold.

All I feel like is to cry.
Maybe I’m already dead
which is why I can’t draw a breath.
Or have I been running all this time?
Oh why, oh why?
Can’t keep my eyes dry?
Can’t keep my heart alive?
Still needing a place to hide.

Guilt & fear had their fun with me,
as I had my fun with them.
I push away from that shore
to explore,
the ranges, the desert, the glacier,
the transient joys & encounters,
the answers & the sights.
A light-footed traveler.

I want them to see what I see
all that was meant to be
if I can just make myself believe
there’s no such thing as gravity

I want them to hear what I hear
melodies & symphonies just for my ear
if I can just make the voices quiet
that cry out from hunger & fear

I want them to know what I know
then we can do away with war
we can all just chat & share
while the fires are still warm

I want them to dream what I dream
with colors & leaves & waterfalls
secret gardens are open to all
no more suspicions who sells out

I want them to travel where I travel
on the ground in time & cosmos
not a word when we come back
building a world of spiritual delight

I want them to feel what I feel
ladled with self-pity & -hatred
not deserving of love & the lucky breaks
I don’t want to be diminished any more.

I see something’s shadow
and the shadow sees me.
I’m tired & have nothing left to give.
Haven’t I always been like this?

I hear the rustle of the leaves,
I don’t know what it means.
Give me another thousand years
I may know that peace.

My brain’s hurting, being alive.
Don’t know what I’m feeling,
in the depth of the streetlight.
Seems always running, chasing a rest.

You sing it the best, versions of good night.
Since we’re still here, make it a goodbye.
Or just forget, sometimes it comes back, another life,
nothing changes, death blind, drinking in time.

You say the line, I know it sounds right.
It’s a celebration, the guests never left.
Baby, don’t you know? The desperation’s too real?
Give oblivion another time capsule.

I think I might be smart.
I know the big Os of sorts.
Facebook, big G asking me out.
On the shortlist, I must be hot.

A female professional, heads-down workahoe.
Don’t tell me what to do though.
Designed it, implemented it, tested it, you say oh.
What’s that? No raise, no promo?

Skills solid, let me send you the receipts.
Served you right, recruiting me,
asking me where I’d like to live.
Seattle, NY, bay area, wherever you need.

You thought I could just be,
you could guess it on my race,
or maybe it’s just the resume.
You got your process, I have my vaca.

Travel’s tiring, I have 45 minutes
to show you what I got,
plenty others waiting their turns, no rush.
It’s the result that talks.

It’s binary, it’s emotional.
End of day, make it compilable.
Are you machine enough to be one of us?
Come back when your systems have stickers on top.

Candy or tea,
one bitter, one sweet.
One tells you’re awesome,
the other tells you’re weak.

Plenty of medicine nobody wants
when you can have syrup for breakfast.
Forget the suffering & the malice
long as there’s elixir in the chalice.

Cut the debate,
have some cake.
Nothing to say,
since we all agree:

“It’s so good.”
“It’s so fluff.”
“What’s the receipt?”
“Let me take a shot!”

Sweetness is good,
artificially assured,
to satisfy your cravings.
Some tea for cleansing.

Good & bad in one saucer,
nothing much else matters.
Have another spoonful of sugar,
let me fill in more hot water.

Nothing like the teatime,
to get the weekend started.
Thinking on the civilized,
all planning & strategize.

Big time, choose a side,
whoever wins, on the sideline.
It’s OK, we’re doing great.
Let’s all clink for teatime.

I trace the lines forth and back,
seeing a life from the mind’s eyes.
Getting clearer now this winding sketch,
and how it may go under my own hands.

The ink spills now and then,
smudges the cloth a thousand threads.
Tear it apart again and again,
looking for a perfection until I can’t.

Stained my arms, stained my face,
still something’s out of place.
Won’t stand still, afraid of being overtaken
by a desperation that has no name.

Something inside tells me not to trust
a crazy little thing they call love.
Steadying my hands as I draw the lines,
throw away passion for some peace and quiet.

A hopeless quest, a deranged mind,
bursting with love, don’t know how to express.
“You can come with me now, I know the way.”
Finally a voice says, “Don’t be afraid.”

Empty streets, full of crowds,
restaurant lines, strangers’ smiles.
Fast history who am I gonna be?
Safest route, not liking where it leads.

Success belongs to everyone,
failures belong to me.
I hoard them like a motherfucker,
so just leave me be.

I revel in them like nothing else,
draw me back to some place else.
Cozy enough with the cold & the trials.
Don’t mind me when I wonder off.

It’s not about myself or the hoops I made.
It’s all about myself, is there anything else?
Part of a disease, part of something to prevail.
Always something else in the middle of this wild.