For Your Eyes (but They’re Not my Missing Destiny)

I don’t know why but I missed your eyes.
The way they’re kind is too hard to find.
But we’re too far like two skies.
There’s no way to see twice.
Until today, the world conspired.
I opened door, it was you behind.

I wonder why nothing’s in my memory,
Except your eyes, I recognized immediately.
It’s not my heart but you touched closely,
Sliced that part deeply, carefully.
I don’t like you. It’s just your eyes (and maybe smile), obviously.
More than certain, this’s what you do to everybody.

I don’t want to cross danger line but my poetry
Keeps whispering the missing word is destiny.

*****-

# My fiftieth. For your eyes. Surprisingly

Unloved Apology

I’m sorry to smile
Without any replies.
I turn off our Line
And every noti signs.
I know you are caring
But it’s suffocating.
The world seems running
Out of air for breathing.
Forgive me for
Don’t walk into your open door.
Rushing to the far shore,
I fear when your feelings pour.
I’m absolutely sad
And feel I’m very bad.
How much guilt one has had,
When you go and I’m glad.
This’s my formal apology
For not being mannerly.
However, I’m not sorry
To never return yours evenly.

****-*

Daily Prompt: Apology

When Breath Becomes Air

When last breath becomes air approaches,
The priorities of things are declared
And beauties of simple surroundings
Are too intense to bare.

When last breath becomes air’s diagnosed,
Why meaning of life could be chosen
And pursued what is needed most
When bodies are going to loss?

The day that last breath becomes air
Is common we all people share.
Why to wait cancer or disease
Signifies urgency of to care.

If the last breath is tomorrow
Should it be in the life we borrow?
Does it feel shallow or hollow?
Is moment overwhelmed by sorrow?

The second of last air is unknown
Don’t keep love within and alone.
Answer of existence, don’t postpone.
Before life has left only bones.

***-*****

# Dedicate for the meaningful piece of art about life of Paul Kalanithi, his memoir “When Breath Becomes Air”. I finished it last night, cried my eyes out. I moaned for the world’s losses about his understanding of life and death, his neurosurgical skill and his compassion towards patients. Imagine how many people he could save if he was alive.

I cannot write a line summary here as  death does not have a pinpoint but it absolutely is a process to feel and understand. However, one thing I can tell from this reading is there is no books can draw the asymtote to the answer for life existence better than a story of a good one who had to be gone away.

Diamond Mine

How dark it is, in the diamond mine.
Despite all the stones sparkly shine.
No lights pierce through the first mind.
The hands are bound, the eyes turn blind.

How heavy it is, on shoulders.
Price’s dropping while walking farther.
To be fear that an exit only exists in wonder.
To see the light, again, is what it matters.

How life is exactly a journey of miner.
Choose wisely for those desires.
Carry all, and the death comes faster.
The treasure is for living happier.

How beautiful the ring is on finger
When there is a time to ponder,
A moment to make a smile wider.
Thrill to write a life next chapter.

**_***

# Another thought of life understanding
of one who had lost in diamond mining.

The lie of the Grasshopper and the Ant

I think this tale is such a big lie.
When one side has to works until dies,
Neither plays nor breaths the summer scent,
To survive in the dark winter tent.

Another just sings under the sunshine,
It could be just other lifestyle.
Of course! work and vision are required,
It’s not wrong to have them with smile.

Why to live a dim thirty years
And dream of freedom after the career.
What does life mean to you as an ant,
but future, everything takes for granted.

Why no one teach kids that we can
Concoct joy and success in the same plan.
And we can be the grasshopp-ant,
Singing life in the happy winterland.

**-**

# something I’ve never taught when I were a kid + now reading: 4 Hours Workweek (Tim Ferriss)

A Forkmate Story

The fork was looking for the spoon.
Travelling up to the Saturn moon.

At the first stop at Mars,
The fork went alone to steak bar.
Pairs of knife and fork snogged on the sofas,
The fork’s world was ajar.

At the second rest at Jupiter,
The fork couldn’t think of more wonders.
Sitting down, ordering a plate of spaghetti,
Next table, a fork couple kissed passionately.

Here, the last, landing on Enceladus,
After seeking, lonely life might be a must.
Then the light tap on the shoulder,
The fork blinks eyes, tries to be sober.

That moment, everything clicks,
When the stranger says “hello, gorgeous chopstick”

*-********

# inspired by today dinner which I (accidentally) used only chopsticks + Daily Prompt: Fork

 

It’s Your Lucky Day

  
Honey,
The sky is so blue today.
Gentle wind murmurs. Early summer flowers sway.
Crystal sea, if we stand at the dock of the bay.
I’ll say,
Jump! and swim to where your heart prays.

Honey,
Do you see it’s today.
Golden sun tunes all the moons to cocoon your dream way.
Fresh snow, if we sit at the top of the sleigh.
I’ll say,
Shoot! and fly to where your desire stays.

Honey,
it can be any day.
Summer, fall, spring, frost; keep their finger’s crossed as always.
Any time, if we do, not we may.
I’ll say,
everyday is your lucky day.

*-*****

# Small celebration for feeling of competence after the long lost time.  

I hope you all feel everyday is your lucky day too:)

Photo: summer trip at Krabi, Thailand