Memories of a Friend

It been a while since I have post up a poem in this blog. This poem that I am posting up is dedicated to a friend. She is heading back to Vietnam and we will miss her very much. It is sad that I couldn't hang out with her before she have to go (I'm sorry). So to make it up, I spend the week writing this poem (lucky I finish before she have to leave too). I just want to wish you well and the best too. May the memories that we created will forever be in our heart! Don't worry, I will also remember the laugh we share to help me through the tough time. Like you said, hope that one day we will meet again. Until then.....

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Memories of a Friend

It is sudden, the news that two friends will part away.
While there are still words left in this world, so much to say.
All the moments that could have been part of a memory.
Now are out of reach and feel like some faraway dream.
Dark day grows darker, it is slowly counting down.
A reed player plays all day, all throughout the town.
Such a sad melody only brings an unfamiliar tune.
Memories are like a bouquet of flower that is yet fully bloom.
At the base of a hill, surrounded by mountains of silhouette,
time grows shorter until – No! No! Not yet!
And there goes the morning star’s light last strand.
Maybe, someday fate will reveal their intentions and plans.
But for now, if these memories is enough to make us cry,
surely, our last word together, will not have to be goodbye.

My Autumn

Have not written anything for the past couple of month, but now I"m back (sort of). Here another poem that I hope you all like and Happy Thanksgiving!

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My Autumn

Staring at the maples, I wonder
what kind of secrets the trees know.
Being in one spot all the time
they must have seen everything
in this past couples of year.

And if I could,
I would ask them,

if by chance, they have seen you walking by one day.
If like me, you have made a stop here
at one point on your trip
just to have a conversation with the trees.

I would ask them
how are you doing?
and tell them, to tell you, to meet me here
on this spot a year from now
- or tomorrow.

But things are never as easy as they seem
and irony love to play with us
like some sort of puppet.

In fact, seeing you in my dream
is far more real and far more aesthetic
than any memories.

Because these memories
are just like this Autumn day.
The cool wind that marked the end
of the long Summer vacation,
and the dried leaves,
the dried leaves that are scattered everywhere.

To Search for an Angel

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To Search for an Angel

To search for an angel is not an easy task.
You must look far beyond the Once upon a time,
the place filled with faeries and knight-in-shinning armor.

Because in your own little corner,
you will not find a map or a guide
that will lead you to the missing glass slipper or the cave
where the wicked witch have hid the poison apple.
In fact, finding the lost Holy Grail
is by far easier than anything in the world.

So you don’t need to stay up all night
and wait for the stars to come out,
for a chance to connect them like a game
of connect-the-dots,
hoping that it will lead you to the Big Dipper.

Because while you are doing your own thing,
she is locked up all day in her cold tower
staring out her window at the clock tower in the distance,
watching the second’s hand move,
waiting patiently for the clock to strike 12,
wondering if you have lost your way somewhere,
or got stuck on some bridge riddling with a troll.
Hey, who said this was easy?

So bear in mind that
to search for an angel is not an easy task.
You must look far beyond the sad fairytale ending,
the happily ever after.

The End.

Winter Walk

Winter Walk

I scream out your name on top
of the Eiffel Tower, hoping that
my voice will reach out to you.
I come back to Paris each year, just to do that.
Afterward, I take a stroll down
the same street,
the same alleyway,
the same route,
that we have walked last time
we were here on vacation.
I thought I could run into you by chance.
But during the stroll,
I can’t help but to notice
how much of the scenery have changed.
I wonder
how many years have Paris aged?
How many seasons have passed her by?
Does she even know
that it is Winter right now, waiting for Spring.
I thought it is kind of ironic,
how I can see you everyday in my dream,
but I can only meet you once a year,
every time I pass by your grave,
while wandering up and down these street.

Dreams

Here is another haiku, enjoy =)

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Dreams

At night, I wait for
the moon to comes out - but all
I can see are stars.

The Sky

Woohoo, after more then month of procrastination and writer block, I have finally finish one of my poem that I have been putting off. Hope you all like it.

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The Sky

I lay down by the tree and count, the red and yellow leaves.
They slowly fall to kiss the ground, while the river sleeps.
Beside the snoring river you can hear the lone reed plays.
The clouds that watch me fall asleep have nothing more to say.

I often hear the humming birds and wish instead they sing,
A symphony along the reed will surely lift my wing.
I watch the little waving grass, prancing beyond the hill,
And playing with the butterflies, oh now my heart is filled.

Then comes the silent crawling fog, the thunder starts to roam.
The night's last breath before the storm, the dewdrops start to foam.
I wake up from my sleep, in time to catch the rising sun.
And count again the falling leaves, another day is gone.