Wednesday, December 25, 2013

My Earth

My earth rattles,
And bellows of my being heave,
When I spend every waking breath,
Debating on the debacle
Of my independent state.

My earth crumbles,
With every ill-timed favour,
With every promise not kept,
Every pendulous roar on the clock,
Every moment not savoured.

I whispered my name too freely,
Caressed too sweetly,
Gave away without feeling
My punishment dictates
My earth must slowly fade.


Sunday, June 16, 2013

Rising Sun

Over ten-thousand islands
and fifty billion waves,
crashing in separate amplifications,
undying undulations,
and whipped foam.

The land of cherry blossoms and steel
calls for me.
She is exposed
with her earthquakes,
and her radiating perversions,
so twisted and bright.

Her light blinds my eyes,
for I am located in the land
of lucid burning,
but my luck is turning,
and I'll see her soon.

And the traveler in me is dying to be free.
To see the lights of the city,
and the heights of Mt. Fuji.
The electricity rips through me,
so does the solemnity of the prayer trees.

The airplanes in my dreams won't fall,
no bright lights beyond the doors fade,
the pagodas before me will stand tall
and the floating world won't hide in shade.

Only a breadth away
In this land I will stay,
here to play,
among the cranes,
and the planes.