Reunion

Reunion

Hello Mister, do you remember me?
We met once, face to face,
for a split second,
as we were walking down this busy street.
I remember you.
Who could have forget that day,
when we walked past each other,
raindrops began to fall down.

And hello little flower, do you remember me?
I sat beside you that one day.
I can remember it clearly,
the sun was nice, and the park was quiet.
We must have talked for half the day
because, without us even notice it,
Spring has bloomed,
and the snow, all melt away.

And hello again love, you remember me?
It has been a long time.
I can barely craft an image of your smile,
and all I could remember are
fragments of this and that.
Yes! It has been a long time.
By now,
you must have forgotten all about me.

Young Love

Love has many meaning. To some, it mean nothing, yet to other, love mean everything to them. So what make love so strong then? So strong that it will hurt us so bad if we ever let it go. It seems that when lose the love we know, sometime we fear that we might not experience the same love we have before. Like innocent love, before we learn anything about heartache. Puppies love, before we learn about commitment. Maybe that's just the things, not only we lose the feeling we once knew, we also forgot a part of us that build off this childish and innocent love. We hope that once day that time will heal all pain and we will be able to take a step forward. But that's just the thing. I believe that the only way to go forward is to take a step backward. Go back to the first moment that we first feel like love mean everything. Back to the innocent love we once knew. Back to the childish love that we all wishes to hide, but can't. In doing so, we will be able to rediscover the part of us that we lost, the part of us that have kept us so childish and innocent. Who know? The flame in our heart never dies, just dim.

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Young Love

When two hearts meet, they sing and dance.
They watch the clouds that come and went.

They sit and watch the bumble bees.
They sing along their symphony.

They stroll along the rosy field.
They laugh as they roll down the hill.

They follow where the bobcat goes.
Into a dream where no on know.

They listen to the water fall.
They two hearts beat the lion roar.

The two hearts play with river's reed.
They hold hand til they fall asleep.

Ode to The Shadow

Ode to The Shadow


How often do you bike
around your neighborhood?
The laughing children by the jungle gym,
the old couple on the bench,
the jogger with her dog,
and the dog with his tongue sticking out
are all images that passes you by
like some sort of black and white slide show.

How often do you find yourself
biking out of the busy city,
and into the quiet countryside?
The trees bend and hunch over,
perhaps they were touched by the storm
that blew by the night before.
The wheat dances and waves at the passerby.

And who are you?
For not joining them.

Stop for a moment and let your shadow
stretches his leg out.
Give him a pencil and a paper.
Let him dance with the wheat
and climb on the back of the tree.

How often do you get
to see you shadow laughing?
Instead of being attached to your body
Like some sort of slave.

But don’t worry though.
Because even long after you leave,
your shadow will still be here,

in front of the audience of stars,
singing a lullaby for the moon.

I Never...

I have been so busy with school work (and procrastination), that I have been struggling on writing a new poem. I'm writing something new for the 13th Annual Youth Speak Poetry Slam, so it'll be awhile before I will post what I'm going to be reading for the contest. On the mean time, here is a poem (somewhat old).

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I Never...

I never seen the morning sun
Nor know the time it sets.
I never seen the stars up high
At night and living yet.

I never felt the morning breeze
That sways beneath my feet,
Or felt what life is really like
And what life really teaches.

I never heard the robins song
And never seem to tell,
That if the songs are even real
Or like that time stood still.

I never smelled the red roses,
Even the honey comb.
I never thought that any rose
Can grow to be alone.

I never tasted those raspberries
That mature in the Spring.
I never tasted those sweet syrup
Or salt upon the rain.

The Day is Old

I'm just going to post some older poetry pieces until I have time to finish my newer pieces. I'm planning to get one done before New Years, that mean I'll have one up by tonight. Actually I was planning to put this piece up on the 29th but never mind, too late now. By the looks of it, I guess I'll have to save it for the New Years (Jan 1, 09).

This old poem is actually the first poem that I finish and done, so it might sound a bit childish. I think it was the end of 10th grade when I finish this... or perhaps it is the end of 9th grade. Either way, enjoy!!!

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The Day is Old

Moon shine upon the lake,
The lake run icy cold.
Autumn leaves falling fast,
The night and day are old.

Bird sings along their mate
And watch their children play,
And soon these song shall end,
And like the end of day.

Icy breeze of the night,
Stories the moon have told.
None listen to his voice,
And days are growing old.

Day singing along the night,
And something still remain,
Like day fall into the dark
And next day born again.

Our day still growing short,
And soon we’ll like to know,
Why the song doesn’t last?
And day are getting old.