nothing has ever

You once asked me what is it that i see when i'm looking out, with my mouth hung open and all these words that don’t come out. I don't know where to start,to tell of the multiple stories that palpitates my heart from the bulletproof current that keeps my body curled up and my head cocked up. Everything about the brilliant blue renders me speechless, eek.

I was raised with the east river 500 ft away, i’ll turn over from bed to tilt my head over the pier, awaiting the sun to twirl my body into reflective diamonds chasing shadows over and under, hugging the wooden poles, gliding my hands as close to the ripple water that my little fingers will allow while dreaming of the earth underneath my feet.

And then the stories begun, what happened happens. A wild child, I was already too afraid to love too madly. The sea speaks and I’ll listen to the grumbling stomachs of a rainstorm, the pitter patters of a snowday, the vast lonliness that continued after and before the happiness was to begin and cease, repeatedly I saw the world drown slowly by this wrath. And there was never enough of a good moment for me to express all I saw, there was no one to share with, no one that I could relate with. So i always admired from afar from such close distance. And my mind rambled on and on as my heart crumbled and crumbled. Then the war....

of spoonfed sugar melting into disgust,broken gin bottle shards lit up into nightly bon fires, scraping the callowness out of our smoky skin, and what you see inside a world of star dusts and strawberry fields ages you quickly. The foul taste never left my mouth from the outpour of blood dripping down the wooden planks ,maybe perhap cuz i couldn’t ever stop licking the pain from my lips, falling angels that swims forever in the blue and becomes of it. I cannot turn my head away from the tragedy that still beckons its beauty, so i stare on.....

til i get here again, no matter at which point of the world’s end, i’m still here again. And what i see when I”m looking out, all the same, all the casualities gargling in my mouth as i breathe in and out, heavy from the exhausation of hustling in a torturous city, surviving with too little folks to love and too many too far...when you make it, in life that is, the baggage creases the heart. You learn to love all the same like you’re learning to walk agaain, misguided baby steps of lost wonder years. Hah hah the good old sickened grief ...

Oh, the fucking accumulated heartbreaks and meltdowns all withdrawals once i’m here again, the sweet sound of the gentle blue beast dancing from an open womb, again and again. And again. And again. And again. And again.
Who are you to ridicule me from my flapping arms if you never attempted to set yourself free, come.....come....

Nothing
Nothing

Nothing
Nothing

Nothing has ever been this beautiful. Shh.



DEDICATED TO MAKEEBA BROWNE

runnning tracks

yesterday i dreamt i was on the run from the city's slick,
crossed the river, up the ladder towards the tunnel's snake.
how long can you ride on these busy tracks,
as long as forever in astoria, it'll always turn back.

hey, hey santa fe.

from city to desert: "You can no more separate one life from another than you can separate a breeze from the wind..." so hey, hey santa fe.

(Video Playlist: 1. Sting-Desert Rose 2.Coldplay-Beautiful World 3.Gnarls Barkley-A little better (To Gid.), 4.Cachao-The Journey 5. Israel Kamakawiwo-Somewhere over the rainbow 6. Weezer-Island in the Sun, 7. Kill Bill-Good Night)

hey hey santa fe,
i shall let go of this madness
that has become of me,
bye bye roaring new york city.

hey hey santa fe,
i can begin to breathe the desert skies
and awake by 6am, just to chase the
breath of the mountain's kiss.

hey hey santa fe.
hey hey santa fe.

32,000 feet high

when i was a child, i always had my face against windows....i just.
i just couldn't adjust to the stale spaces in between
the walls that laid out isolation like standing corners waiting to turn corners,phew.
i grew up squinting heavily, stunned by the sun that pushes the endless breeze array like an unspeakable madness. i've always knew I wanted to run. run on sentences, run.

i couldn't fall easily for the stigmatization but too easy,
the dirty lower east's gritty,pretty sloppy city.
how could this be, me?
i needed bare feet on dirt, needed my fingers to claw through the clouds,
wanted my skin against golden blades of weeping willows,
i weeped as a child begging to run. run smack into the sun.

and shatter into star dusts..

smirking,

how dope it is, to wake up with my face against windows

grabbing the sky by the handful.

'So the darkness shall be the light and the stillness the dancing'

"you do not really understand something unless you can explain it to your grandmother."

grandpa still awakes startled at night howling past the kwanyin goddess and towards the moon. he can no longer hear your spirit come but he can still feel you as he longs for your hands to rub his back, back to calm.....

i use to see you in my sleep, lost you since but now through meditation,your spirit breathes......and through a gentle breeze at the monastery, i can just taste the childhood memories of burnt rice chips and your fon saw dumplings...唵嘛呢叭咪吽

"I love you when you bow in your mosque, kneel in your temple, pray in your church. For you and I are daughters of one religion, and it is the spirit. "

he knows.

on saturday mornings as I am
still curled up under his covers,
he wakes me up with music.
he knows.

a love poem.

i never forgotten how to dance in between the night time gun fires, shooting in between shooting you and shooting up, shooting stars-we're all always looking up...
but then...
love comes along. (what does love got to do with this?)
and you realize when one falls, we all crumble.
i, walked away wounded hearted-
i, ricochet off toward the wind; in crutches.

we fast foward,

i still sleep with my hands under the pillow,
a familiar last stance. grip. a veteran.
fire still reminds me of the way bumble bees move,
deadly and pretty.
like roses laid silently in cemeteries.