Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving.A day for loss. Acute awareness of what isn'tTo be grateful for what there isWith the ever delicate balance sheetAny moment liable to switchI'm not toasting to tomorrowNot singing songs of the pastOnly this moment I'm standing onA dinner-plate sized platformAlready slipping fastSome years the whole gangs hereTrading wine for melancholy in my cupWhen other …

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Double-Edged Sword

Sorry for the long hiatus, but new poetry this week!

Ghosts

幽霊 Spotlight in the skyA perfect sphere of illuminationMaking the streetlamps look deadin comparisonYou don't need darkness to hide inThe mountains happily stand in your wakeAs you ooze between their fingers Steadily advancing into the silent village belowwho welcomes youwith not a soulYou don't need them to be visibleWhen you can taste the sound of …

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Every Day With You In It Becomes An Event

You move like liquid smokein and out of my daysWhere sunrise and sunset marked the division of timeNow I organize life's passingby the appearance of your nameI welcome you like a disease into my bodyA foreign presence, jostling me for spaceWhat is this mind gone lazy in its wanderings? Like an addictfeeding itself on its …

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Hanabi

Explosions interspersed between raindropssplattering dark canvas in a palette of precious metals, like God Herself walked by Below, a chorus of vowelsChasing each other in a call and response Oou's melt into Aah's, slips into Eee'sCircles so smoothly orchestratedAn end can't separate itself from a beginningAre we celebrating, or in mourning?Beneath the upturned gazesreflecting artificial …

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To Not See Is Not Blindness

Mist, white as patiencedevours the mountains slowlyProud cedars, resigned to their fateaccept what they have comingEven as their comrades disappearEven as they swim,up to their necks,in the pale unknowingEquanimity, they breathe, into the silent surroundingMy body is glued into this momentif I peel away now I will forever be less like a sticker worn down …

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The Break Up

It has been done.A long time coming,weeks of pondering,                                                                                of thoughts ever-changing,but I have seen it through …

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The Muse

If writing is holy ground,come walk with me through the fodder of your imagination. Come bear with me through the pins and needles that dig in to your sleeping confidence. Come smile at me even if your resolve is dissolving into pieces, even while the joy in your eyes melts and slides down your face, …

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