Music that touches the heart (repost from 1/31/2009)

Here goes another one of those nights where one song keeps you awake, replaying over and over again…Sometimes you want it to just stop; stop it from bringing back memories that are repressed; stop it from making tonight yet another sleepless night. You try and hold on to your sanity, grasping on to every strand of meaningless material in your head, just hoping that you will not get lost in those wistful memories of years past. As your eyes begin to cloud over with thought of yesteryear, you realize that what you dread the most was not those memories resurfacing, but those memories once again becoming reality. You see where you will be and what you will become. You see yourself without that façade, the evil mask that has hidden your true identity.

From behind the ephemeral strings of memories that cage your soul, you scream for help….help to solve your problems, to understand the meaning of your pitiful existence. You try and understand why you are lost, lost within the metaphysical. While seeking the truth about life, you find that you are unfit to bear this charge. All you see is not what life has to give but what life has failed to give. You see the faults that have defined who you are, but you have failed to accept that this identity is truly yours. In the people that surround you, you find qualities that make them superior to yourself whether it is in the physical or in the mental.

You try to be like them, and the harder you try, the harder you seem to fail. All just to be noticed for once. The more you conform to society, the more invisible you become to those around you. You used to believe that being like those around you will make you stand out more; that it will have others view you as you see them view your idols. In the end, you are just another person who has blended into the background of normalcy. You hope to impress, but all you have done is degrade yourself. You want to be someone to rely on, but all you have become is someone who does not know his own skin. You want to be a good person, but all you have done is shown your faults. You want to show that you can love, but all you see is hate.

All you want to do is find where you belong and what makes you special. As you attempt to find this, you realize that what was most important, slowly yet surely, falls away into the deep, dark crevice of memory. Finding the light necessary to fully illuminate this cave of despair and reveal all that was and is good will take time…and in this time, you will listen to music to soothe the soul. But once again, you find yourself thinking about what has been, what is, and what will be. This vicious cycle reveals to you that the bright light has always been there. It is the light that shows you these memories; it is the light that reminds you of who you are; it is the light that defines you. The light…the music...as one.

Memories

and so we run

leaves crunching under

the piddle paddle of laughing feet

memories of good times

past

two what do we owe the pleasure

having memories of reminisce

when tears show and hearts cringe

two this end individual one

what captures lasting moments

two images of retrospect

pictures I keep locked away

seen with changing thoughts

as time passes

temporal feelings

a bleeding canvas of painted life

what I saw is no longer

what I see

if you are just

another beautiful girl

as memory fades

then you two should disappear

-----------------------

我每天还在想你。

Like a fine wine

all things need to be aged

w i s d o m

perfection

is that not the final goal?

but I am no connoisseur

drink here, my offering...

from deep within I pour

contents of the ages

raw emotions

untainted by bottled corks

carbonated machines

mixers and dispensers

purity of the soul

offered as fine wine

with all the struggles endured,

the taste only grows

stronger

bolder

meeker, milder

each test yields better flavor

but I am no connoisseur

one test, one barrell

continue to drink

the age is wrong

but I am no connoisseur

addictions: hard to break

and, so is habit.

so I ask

perfection when?

drink the last drop

the last barrell

do not say "perfection"

but I am no connoisseur

there is none left

relish the taste

but why listen to me?

I am no connoisseur

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I still can't get over your taste.

Not a poem, but contemplate it anyways!

If you must dream, dream big.

If you must accept reality, accept that reality is defined only by you.

If you wish to live in the middle, keep your feet rooted in that which cannot be changed while constantly striving for the top.

Live!

To an old love:

I open old

letters

intently

scrutinizing

l

i

n

e

s

that r u n

decip

(hid

meaning

den)

hering

pity to read

read to pity

growth of love

changing

drops

of

tears

cascade down the path of hearts

past is which that

nettogrof

towards the future

expected

let us move

forbackward

through crinkled sheets

fading lines

to the time when

my soul and yours

inetwrnited

----------------------------
Published in 2010 APEX Washington University Arts & Sciences Undergraduate Journal

To dream

On that note,

I bid thee sleep,

to dream of dreams,

to pine of pines,

for I know good and well

that dreams are,

but, a glimpse

of future foretold and past unveiled.

so I send thee yonder,

towards the misty land,

where none can see thee ponder

of dreams where dreams are banned.

so close thy eyes and let mind wander;

let thy feet take ghostly saunter

towards unknown monsters

in pines of dreamy land.

let not one wake thee

from golden slumber

for nothing but dreams

is ageless, of priceless wonder.

so sleep, my dear,

please sleep!

to dream of days of old;

to dream of days foretold;

to dream the dreams

that dreams may take mold.

So, let all those behold

these dreams, such dreams;

who dares doubt fool's gold!

For thy dreams reign supreme!

Watch, listen, silently thy dream begins

I beg thee take hold.

Reminder

do you play the game to play or to win? Who are you playing with?

Do you see my struggle, Gatsby?

So I stare out into the distance, across the dying expanse of field, towards the fading horizon as the merging stripes of the sun's colorful rays glimmer off the mountains. I stare deeply into the setting sun, allowing my eyes to adjust to the radiance that is there. So beautiful, yet also so deadly.

A blinking red dot out in the distance shifts my eyes from this beautiful display of God's awesome power. I can no longer look out on the horizon without seeing it; that painful reminder that love will always be my Gatsby struggle. Every morning I wake up with the hope that the light has gone out or that my attempt to reach it will be achieved that day. Every day! Do you know how difficult that is to know that your dream eludes you each and every time you look for it? How many times do I need to persevere then fail? I've modified the engine to my car so many times, and each modification brings me one mile closer, yet I am still SO far away. I always have to turn back and start from the beginning; I always have to return home knowing that not only did I fail but I have nothing to show for my effort. I return home to look across the horizon at that blinking red dot.

I'm tired of driving out knowing that I have a safety net, the possibility of going home. I'm driving fast out across the desert using all the gas that I have in my tank. And, in the end, being unable to return home is just a consequence I will have to accept. If I must die trying to achieve my dream then let that be so, at least I know that my spirit will float along the horizon towards the setting sun. I'm putting it all on the line for something that I know I can achieve. Failure is no longer an option. Who knows, maybe when I reach it, it won't be glorious as I thought it would be. But I know that when I look back at all that I had done to reach this blinking dot, that I will cherish what I have for it was not done easily but with much pain and much suffering. That is how I know it will be good, because what would not be good that did not require some hurt. Who is to know what pain is when one has never felt pain? Who is to know what love is when one has never felt love? Who is to know what loss is when one has never felt loss?

This is my Gatsby struggle: my search for love and my search for a future that contains love and family.

Hello, my dear, goodbye

when we first met

was it just coincidence?

my heart jumped a little

feelings i easily brushed aside

but when i saw your eyes

oh, how beautiful they were

kaleidoscope you say?

capturing with rapture

we progressed

down a road that little knew

they know not our times together

our secret life

you will not be my whiskey lullaby

i do not give up so easily

but for you and our love

I drink this poison merrily.

so my dear

I happily said hello

Now

I happily say goodbye

Suddenly, like a gale on a tiny pond

a rush of wind spurned by the coming storm

torrents and torrents of rain

pound silently against my crops

Oh! look how they have suffered

taking the brunt force of attack

without sun, with too much rain

they have been unable to produce

slowly see how they grow and wither

shrinking back into their pods

planted at the wrong time

the farmer sheds tears of loss

with fewer and fewer tears

the hurricane of emotions cease

sputtering and dying

the eye of the storm had come and past

now all that is left should be sunshine

so why does the sun shine less bright?

its not because another storm is brewing

the forecast looks clear

the remnants of grey cumulus clouds

still cover this rain soaked earth

we know that those clouds will disappear

with it, will come that sunshine we seek

Cirrus clouds will fill the sky

the birds will come out again to sing

and I like this sodden patch of mud

will dry

ready and willing

for new planting

of crops that can

hopefully

grow

Fragile

Little container

teetering on the edge of an

abyss

Will some hand come out to

grab it

or like times before

will it just fall to the ground

shattering

pieces of life scattered

across the ground

strewn in fragments large and small

lay my heart

broken

Glass

Please be careful

my heart is still fragile

torn in too many ways to count

forever filled with doubt

You are beautiful to me

why is that so hard to see

keep pushing me away

when I know you want me to stay

let me hold you tight

keep you warm on this cold winter night

my dreams were so bright

so full of life, so full of light

my dreams turning gray

as you constantly keep me at bay

why can you not let me say

just let love be what it may

tonight i watch you dream

in the caress of golden slumber

my dear sleep well

let my heart feel

fragile

just

one

last

time

Stars

Hello bright lights

I see you shining

glimmering so peacefully in the sky

stars that seem so close

in reality, so far away

Two glowing balls

separated by years of light

yet one can still see the other

when space is as dark as night

so when your light went out

way out there tonight

I knew down deep

you supernova-ed ages and ages ago

So why did I feel nothing

if what happened laid in the past

the pain of personal loss

came slowly and slowly without duress

There was no epic storm

no epic tidal wave

of sweeping emotion

digging my heart into the grave

For there always remained that distance

between these embers of ours

so what of this night sky

filled with so many stars

why did I focus on you

the one so far away

what made you special

than those as bright as day

I saw the fire you could give

so deep within your eyes

burning hotter and hotter still

unwilling to fully live or fully die

Nebulous matter is all that remains

from that you shall begin anew

my embers still grow brightly

I will still wait eons for you.

Refrain on Your heart

My sword and shield set ready,

willingness to die without a doubt.

Let thee fight for thou,

Your heart be thy battle ground!

Clash and clang on this mighty day,

an upward surge of demons round.

Let thee fight for thou,

Your heart be thy battle ground!

If I am to die today,

let it not be in vain.

Let thee fight for thou,

Your heart be thy battle ground!

Through prayers I will try,

sleep tight, my dear, sleep tight.

Let thee fight for thou,

Your heart be thy battle ground!

This harsh battle, let me fight!

Heart of mine (repost/edit from 3/12/2009)

Reaching in, I removed

the most precious thing to me,

this little beating thing

all clean and whole was he.

as you drew closer

to take in your hand

this little beating thing,

it beated faster and faster

with each departing step

until finally it beated and beated

and beated until it beated to death.

But you cared for it

nuturing it back to health

allowing it to beat once more.

once again giving life

to this precious thing of mine

that I gave so willingly

to only those who mean the most to me

will ever be entrusted to bear

the charge of safe keeping it

from harm and despair .

Oh, but sad to say,

that once you made it whole,

you promptly gave it back to me

saying, no, no, no!

it cannot be the time

for you to be handing out such things

to people you don't know so well

regardless of your feelings now.

And, so you gave it back to me

beating in your hand

I saw it quiver and quiver more

trying to never beat again.

Now, this little beating thing

that I so long ago removed,

so willingly gave to you,

returns to that hole

from which it was taken from

beating less than it did before,

bearing a scar that reminds

the terror of stepping towards

the one it may have loved

for eternity through and through.

And with the little beating thing

all bruised and broken inside,

it waits for the brighter day

when wounds heal and tears dry,

but realizing that

wounds created this way

heal crooked through and through.

it was broken for too long,

and time is not so kind.

With a chip off its shoulder

and scar in between

it walks the streets bitter

at all the hearts shared among

the people during spring time

when love just waits to be seen.

And though it may never meet

another heart in which to love,

it will continue beating,

that little beating thing

until it meets that perfect one

to wipe away those scars

and make the little beating thing

once again clean and whole

to live the life it was meant to live

two hearts, one soul.

To my wanderlust

Who is to say

from heaven or hell

the decisions we undertake

are false through and through?

for our judgement

of right and wrong

should not be limited by physical nor spiritual bounds.

tethered to that subconcious feeling,

these gut reactions set forth,

motions upon motions

a guiding light

that leads us from our earthly plight.

Thus, my soul is still a wanderlust.

adventure be its name.

lessons I learn from mistakes I make

remind me that without moral strain

there can be no goodly gain.

so i travel through the woods of dark

to see whom I can find;

my life led by circumstance

to that i cannot change,

for why do i predict the chance

to see what is unknown

I should always prepare for battle

with whichever unseen and mighty foe.

for what do we attain

from conquered men

than just rewards and mortal souls?

but, craving still that battle heart

we loudly call out for any row!

though the battle is won,

do not fall stray,

keep your swords sharpened still;

let not that shield of yours,

emblemed with family name,

gather dust and rust from time unused

that one strike, a crack, destruct.

always keep at the ready;

for those who question your morality

will one day face your sword.

so sword and shield kept clean,

be ready for that battle cry

to which all men duly jump forth

to protect that which cannot die

the soul and spirit of the wanderlust

that guides each heart though life

and shows each and every one of us

that right is always right.

Be scared of what is known;

fear not that we cannot see;

for life is just a chivalrous adventure

let your wanderlust call out to thee!

Four + Three

Four plus Three...

Was it just a fantasy?

I woke up today

realizing it may never be.

Even plus odd;

Did it glorify God?

each with their own facade

discovering their love

was just a lightning rod

As seven approaches

a division sign poaches

Each strike

a cleave

back to Four and Three

this division sign

faulty by design

showed addition as its goal

threw back its cloak to reveal

two mighty holes

it brings hurt and pain

but can we stand the rain?

Rebuild that broken path

prove what we had was not simply

faulty math

who is to say

that Three plus Four

cannot mean anything more

than simply love lost, love scorn

I do not forsee

this change in we

to days that end unhappily

for love triumphs over the most

improbable uncertainty

So, can it be,

A treasured number of harmony?

a combination of Four and Three?

So it is written as our destiny

A perfect addition

of karma proclaimed

to seven the number

with luck exclaimed

The Number Four and One

One and Four can't seem to see
that multiplication is their destiny
to add to the line with joyous pride
that famed club of unity
addition makes five

though five is prime
with harmony sublime
division can be their only fallacy

Four and running of One and Four
Oneness one hopes to incur

fate has chosen two numbers apart

to merge and multiply from the start

the product of Four cross One

no equation under the sun

no log, no root, no algorithm

can separate this perfect sum

Two calculated hearts

only three apart

neither particularly smart

One small chart can show all well

that Four cross One equals Four in One

but on this I will no longer dwell

since Four and One can never be

these feelings one must quell

such luster

flat, smooth surface

oval, just the way I like it

this tiny little object

smiling as I toss it lightly in the air

clear blue calm water

calling out to me

one quick flick

ripples of waves

dance before my eyes

skip skip skip

like my life

jumping, jumping, jumping

many places through time

until all energy consumed

then plop

final destination

how many jumps did I take?

Make my last stand

rooted on this spot

pulled by fate into this abyss

until the current carries me to shore

a never ending cycle

splish splash splosh

the pebble streaks

my eyes seek the landing

like my soul yearns peace

Answered

What I craved;

What I sought

satisfied.

Now,

Heart, Mind

coincide.

Together, unanimous say

NO! Defy!

A path

dark and bleak awaits.

path few take.

was the truth,

now a lie,

a mask of uncertainty

points the way to

distance.

Away for so long

feelings dying.

write to me,

hope of restoration,

cannot bloom.

this adventure,

I bid thee farewell;

Road not finished;

pull over, stray,

unwilling to continue.

Revisit that old memory;

no story so cruel.

down that road,

my feet rooted

resisting temptation

unable to walk.

End defined.

Guidance given.

Roads diverge.

Happily say hello,

My dear,

Happily I now say GoodBye.

as the day breaks

morning dew glistens

rainbow in mist

reminscint of yesterday's rain

tears still fall

mind still travels

where it not longer wishes to go

led by a chain

deeply connected

as mind drifts

eyes cloud

the day turns to night

forever in that shadowy mist

of yesterday's plight

Gatsby struggle

Heart cringes, brows furrowed

head in hands

hair pushed back

desparation.

This place was...

where we last spoke

where we last touched

where you last looked in my eyes

an image slowly fading

a tear rolls down my cheek

brush it away

smear of memories past

wet

the sun will come out to dry

soon.

hopefully...soon.

Throat choaked, eyes well

I refuse

emotions like waves

crash against the levy

heart constrained

mind fighting to maintain peace

Still I put on that facade each morning

acting like I no longer care

like my heart no longer

dreams of you

longs for you

Lie after lie

I convince...

no one.

Longingly I look at the stars

slow pulsating red light atop

that unreachable tower

a reminder of my Gatsby struggle

Invisible

Eyes meet, you turn away

ignore that quick glance

forget old times

nonexistent

Ephemeral memories

wisps of smoke in the wind

what we were

drops of disappearing blood

in a river of tears

a deep wound

cut in to the heart

Approach, turn away

a game of fear

avoidance of another

you see me

right through me

a mirage

Another path followed

Friendship bloomed,

Temptation ruined

led to believe

falsity of love

misreading cursed

intentions denied

once again.

What we were

broken pieces scatter the ground

shattered image of life

rebuilt, smashed

left a lonely soul

no warmth, no comfort

The day wanes

sun sets, beautiful horizon

two people part

no longer staring with envy

I sleep, a new day comes

As I stand invisible

understand finale

the game has finished

adventure closes

not happily ever after

but, still, the end.

Train Station

eyes cloud, the wind blows

mortal flesh releases the soul

tenderly into the night

allowing it to reminisce...

I see her standing there

alone as usual.

heads turn, eyes meet

one fleeting instant,

we connect.

our opaque bubble.

her presence magnified.

eyes of comfort,

smile of joy,

this brief moment of bliss.

hello.

goodbye.

my sweet cherie...

I keep walking,

path of dying grass

among the green

marks the common route

never to swerve.

Pray!

run to my side!

just one minute

converse.

Routine unbroken,

with heavy sigh,

force my eyes

to keep looking

ahead.

Fear turning around,

reveal you looking

longing for company

I cannot give.

So I walk away,

follow that path

of brown grass

among the green.

one foot following the other.

A hand grabs hold,

what could this be?

heart stops, head turns

surprise

her.

Eyes clear.

Station platform,

one foot off.

Train flies by.

she saved my life.

Eyes meet, bodies touch

warm embrace, souls converse

My name is....

What I see

Picture this: Brooking steps

A little kid toddles across the street,
each hand clings to another hand.
parents holding the hands of their child,
unwilling to let go,
knowing that in time
the child will pull away,
growing up and leaving.

But, for now,
as the child still needs them,
the parents relish in the moment
that they can still help their little daughter
up the steps of life
towards her future dreams

With frightful look on her face,
she approaches,
each little step at a time:
scared not of life, but of the unexpected.
Only grown will she be scared of life and
love the unexpected.

Run Together

Step in step
a life of synchrony
breath in breath

Towards Spring

Drip, drip, drip

the last snow of winter melts

as the sun shines brightly overhead.

I see the droplets of water

falling off the tips of those gleaming,

ice stalactites.

The buds of flowers just

waiting to bloom,

revealing the beautiful colors of spring.

Droplets from those ever shortening icicles

add to the morning dew of the greening grass,

an indication of the coming transition

in to Spring.

During this time,

winter is not forgotten,

spring is not yet here,

but as the birds sing

and the air warms,

it is a reminder that winter is...

coming to a close;

the ice queen's tale is ending,

and happiness is on its way.

A smile spreads across my face

knowing that all will be well

and a new, better day

will come as tomorrow.

Popped Bubbles

Pop, pop, pop

went those tiny little bubbles

floating way high up

before my fingers touch it

and pop it goes

Pop, pop, pop

goes the bubbles

trapped in cellophane wrap

before my feet touch it

and pop they go

Pop, pop, pop

goes the bubble she lived in

sealed away from the world

before I came along

and popped it

Pop, pop, pop

goes the bubble of the life I built

with us two in it

before Fate intervened

and popped it

Pop, pop, pop

goes my breakfast cereal

as the milk is poured on it

by a person now sitting alone

at the dining room table

Pop, pop, pop

goes the heart

when it realized love could possibly be

before she wrote me saying

she never loved me

and popped it

Pop, pop, pop

went that last sound of the night

and the world ended for me

like that silvery bubble

it popped

I return to the Creator

unlike the bubble made of soap

I cannot deal with

a popped heart

this bubble I created

called life

popped

Unlike the bubble made of soap

this bubble cannot be remade

by a blow of a kiss

So, in the night, you hear

Pop, pop, pop.

Deliver me from Darkness

Walking in the shadows

I saw you crying,

hoping someone would see.

I came to you, caring,

hoping you would recognize me.

Leading you to the light

became my only goal;

Because, once reached, you would be able to see

that the darkness in which you inhabited

was bleak, full of misery.

Until that day,

you will forever remain

in the shadows.

The light I bring

sheds no rays on you,

for your face is too dark to see.

You covered yourself with too many guises

for me to remove with ease,

I am the companion you seek

to rip off those masks

expose the hidden beauty

buried so far beneath;

as the layers peel away,

the person underneath

will show her true face,

and glorious it will be.

In my acts to find myself,

I removed you from that

darkest place

within the shadows

in which you lay.

Do not return to that

wicked place,

never to be seen again.

For, in the shadows,

lies no light,

and once returned,

there are no wings

to again give you flight.

I took you from the shadows

and gave you life.

Now, I ask you to lead me from

my own shadowly plight.

Do You see me?

I gave everything I wasn't given,

in any circumstance.

Thinking that,

it would benefit someone.

In the end,

it worked.

Everyone benefited,

but I suffered.

Now,

how say you?

Eyes Open

Blinded by the love that was never there,

looked past the imperfections that everyone else saw.

But as quickly as it started, it ended.

Like an afternoon spring shower

or a sudden snowstorm during winter.

When did that storm rise...?

Who and what are to bear the brunt of this squall?

Those imperfections may not have stood the test of time;

it surely did not stand the force of God.

Now all that is left are the pieces to be cleaned up;

the pieces of that once lively enclosure.

Can anything be salvaged?

Time to move on.

I may be stuck with my imperfections

but I still stand after the storm

But, now, I see all of your faults

in all its glory!

And finally

I realize

that it was never meant to be...

The rain blinded me

but the sun has risen

and will dry up all the tears.

The ground will burst anew with life,

and the dead will turn to ash

to fertilize food for the living.

The coming of Spring

Frostbitten air of Winter's minions

course through the window,

chilling the warmth,

unsettling the comfort.

As the fire begins to dim,

I cannot help but notice

the beauty of death,

for death means rebirth.

Once the blanket of seemingly pure, white snow

melts,

out will burst

renewed life,

full of hope,

restoring the warmth and comfort

dissipated by that cold but beautiful

Queen of Darkness.