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The Photo Album

for Venie and Emma

 

II

 

This picture is Venie and Emma,

asleep, face to face, bond of their bond,

the bonds of growth, the bond

of a mother liberating her daughter,

the lines that needles through

life unseen, unwordable.

 

 

 

III

 

In this picture Emma blows bubbles

into the clear blue air with a coat

hanger loop, watches them

neatly wrap the skin of air, drift up,

become one with the wind.

 

 

III

 

The uncountable

are starched photos,

 

mending

the broken walls

 

is an art

of the heart,

 

where memories

grows.

 

 

 

X

 

The past needle's eye

who has gone through it?

 

Look at this photo

taken many years ago,

 

imagination reborn,

feeling ignited.

 

The fly is befuddled

by the spider web.

 

 

 

 

 

XII

 

Every moment captured

in time, mystifies life,

pin down at flight,

 

all that seem is stripped

to its element,

ships anchor to bedrocks

 

stay afloat in storm,

the photograph keeps one

from drifting into forgetfulness.

 

 

 

XIII

 

The Mahogany knows their root

by root, mirror has defects,

mirror has no memory of all seen,

history intuits life.

 

Bring all the photos

from the bookshelf, from old boxes,

sit, brush away the dust

on years' reflection.









Half way

 

In the path’s corner,

small insects

scurry into leaf’s hide out.

 

Same outlook

on light, or who else has

a transparent roof?

 

Even those who live

in glass houses

have curtains.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rhythm

 

On the beach,

people write on sands,

 

delight in words,

transient as smoke.

 

The rock pealing’s

impossible.

 

Still the tides thrust,

as a mason's mallet.

 

Rhythm makes sense

of every things.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Afric

 

III

 

Dear Afric,

it’s 4:43 am, I sit long,

and observe

the coming of dawn,

 

sole listener

to the morning birds,

sing their parts,

clear note on air,

 

lightly, staccato's tune,

thin on ear,

as squeaking hinges

of un-oiled door.

 

 

IX

 

Dear Afric, it’s 5:5 am

I live in an apartment on my own

by the roadside of an obscure street.

My windows are full open.

The sound of my fridge and clocks

feint over the calmness of the world.

Breeze falls on my skin

light as fluff, light as breath on skin.

Sleep unifies symmetries.

Take down the scaffolding,

take down silence,

Everything loose and drift apart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friends Dart

 

II

 

Slant the words

of mind's blinding thoughts.

 

In the street, strangers talk,

nice on summer's heat.

 

So safe in their company.

What's unknown is unknown.

 

Friend's arrow is sharpest,

pierce deep the heart,

 

hurt’s broken rib. Delicate

molluscs tent in carapace.


 

 

 

 



Vindication

 

Late night hang out spots on the rise,

chatting is convenient,

it is easier to follow than to dream.

 

Laughter's necessary as a good turn,

as air we pour into our lungs,

sweet as coconut, sweet as wine.

 

Phrases weave in conversation,

listening's ingenious, patience on a letter’s rule,

mirror reflects light, soundless, heatless,

 

clouds drink to swell, give rain,

right words are scarce,

the first right is to remain silent.

 

  




 

Motion

 

Chew sweet gum,

swallow bitter pill,

word's target as dart's

as game of golf's,

wonder how it will be

to fly and never perch, 

shoot and never miss,

sink as deep as the root

of shepard's Tree,

as the challenger Deep

in the Mariana Trench.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Timelessness

 

II

 

Happiness

sought by all,

 

queue unseen, unmentioned,

unwordable.

 

Heart's healing

comes to those in broken places,

 

the river forget

the tides

 

that never reaches

the shore.

 

 

III

 

Who's has never been tinged

with emotion?

 

Bones, flesh

have their own craving.

 

One quick flash

of surprise pop

 

open the minds

as wine bottles,

 

to the unmentionable, 

the unbelievable.

 

 

 

XII

 

When lost

at crossroad,

 

sides

doesn't matter,

 

either way

leads to an end,

 

a beginning,

something better.

 

 

 

 

XIII

 

hunters with hats

meditate through the forest,

 

days come and go

on moth's wing.

 

Sailors navigate

in wild waters.

 

Sinking is an art

into the self.

 

 

XV

 

Shine your eyes,

people say in the Delta,

keeps oneself

in vigilance. 

 

Who knows

what the heart

imagines?

 

Flutter quickly,

bumble bees

get the body off

the ground,

 

overlook gravity,

one falls.

 

Friend's thought

revealed

in need,

 

the river moves

away slow

as worm.

 

Firm hand shake,

shields

not the back.

 

 

 

Freeing Fish

 

1

 

In Delta

swamp,

 

fish swallows

worm

 

knitted

in hook.

 

 

 

 

 

 

2

 

Fish ties

the hook’s rope

 

to grass

underwater.

 

barnacles

itself

 

to grass

underwater.