1 Boston

 

Boston Sky

 

Sky reads my mind. Clouds shine, shape in Zeus’ thigh. 

Before the thigh, there was a limb, a twisted crocket tree limb, engraved with tawny wrinkles. “Sign of age?” I graced.

 

Stories, lores, myths

spread across the sky, giving generous light to the thought lingers in my mind.

 

Aliens once occupied the sky.

Bricks are all red, ants roar like cougars, trees fly.

I sob like a child. Treasure of human civilization written in red, cursed and unfortune, I am forbidden.

 

Sky is so bright, bright as a young girl who walks by, blinking her eyes, inspiring a world she's never been to before.

 

 

2 Formal ( Tercets )

 

Karma

 

Someone said that karma is a bitch. 

It is not. It is a boy with half hair dark half hair white, 

He is a mix race indeed, and gay.

 

He loves justice like it's his toy, fooling around as chaos play,

He loathes humans, dull and shade, he does not know love or shame,

but boys like him never fade.

 

He has no friends, he is in wonderland, with kids no teeth, roses no thorn, defenseless and poor.

He wonders how judging feels, so he took a bite: It sucks.

 

 

3 Narrative

 

Summer Night

 

A starless night, again. A feet without nails on it.

The nightingale hisses without sound that rings the bell of crush. It is the feeling of flipped.

Humid warmth patting my back. I desire it was you.

It is the feeling that being roasted and bone-removed. It is the feeling of drowning, falling and being recovered.

That’s cliché, remedy for lies, blind everyone’s eye.

 

Inspiration is playing hard to get. I get that since you tinkles my neck.

Glimpse at you, ivy is evergreen.

 

Cicada murmured for months, so does my heart.

I fell for the first time, yet you are a ghost that can not be hunt.

So I backed out, as a deer running away from a beast. As a train with no head and no where to tell.

 

Your eyes hide the most secrets though it can not lie. You diving in to the deep ocean, deep to the bottom.

Salvaging a sunken boat, they are rotten.

 

I wish our shoes are side by side, ties are twisted, between us.

I wish there was lust. Raw, hannibal lust, curving on his bones, running in your veins.

I wish so. Just you told me so.

Buried in the summer wind, grows in the bean sprout.

I wish you love me, it will never wear out.

 

 

4 Persona

 

Angel’s Soliloquy

 

“Kneel !” he shouts. All me are trembling.

The night was dreadfully dark.

All me have been purged, wings bathing in blood

all over the place.

Feathers, halos, souls

we are in pieces.

All me floating on feed, by god.

Human are his babies, except we are not.

who are we?

All me awaits.

who leaves me tortured, self-slaughtered? I wondered,

with hatred drowning me, digesting me.

The massacre begins, not between humans.

“Are we born to obey?”

God, help us. I whispers.

All me praying, all me stares.

God won’t answer, me know he won’t.

 

 

5 political/social

 

Narration

 

They are the majority. That is how he calls them.

The most objective way to describe their existence.(at least i thought so )

He couldn’t talk, neither can I.

I am just telling a story. An old old story.

 

when god was creative, he created angels to serve, to complete tasks. He created human to sing, to dance, to feel, and to love and live.

Until the apocalypse came. ( I prefer this word )

Truths coated with lies, dark was told to be white.

Armageddon begins.

Atoms explodes. Humans went missing, wiped and clean.

 

A millennium past. I was born.

I don’t have mouth. ( that’s how human calls it )

I was a narrator before everything sprouts.