Autumn Thoughts

Sometimes I feel like the last leaf
Atop a barren tree
Having watched all others fall
I wonder when it'll be my turn.

Haiku Thought Up Whilst Being on the Toilet

Heavily raining

Its loud presence made known by

The cold, and the gloom.

I Like to Stand and Stare Out My Window Before I Let Down the Blinds

There is beauty in the lights at night
It means that in the darkness, there is life.
In the silence, my thoughts are rife,
Trying to fight the fright with this (in)sight.

Burst

My tears are my words
Wanting to be spoken but never are,
And I am overwhelmed
By their sheer power
Pressuring, Threatening
To suffocate, to drown me. 
And still the silence remains
Forever a struggle and a barrier
And that's when they find another way.
They are bursting at the seams of my eyes
Pushing through and racing down my face
At a speed and a number, uncountable. 
They are the words I am not able to say.

Fall

All these colourful leaves
Scattered on the wet ground
So beautiful, so dead. 

Dandelion

Only time witnessed the change
To this flower in the middle of the field
Almost drowning in the vast green
Almost undiscovered by eyes.
As I walk amidst the tall swaying grass,
My hands are barely touching the blades
And the air smells softly of the summer sun
The same yellow this flower used to be.
I caress the aged dandelion delicately
But it falls apart so easily in my hand,
So fragile and so promising 
And though I wanted to hold onto it, 
I opened my palm and gave into possibilities.

Crickets

The sun is packing up after a busy day,
Collecting its light and its warmth.
The sky is left with its departing steps
And we can trace it to the horizon line.
That's where we wave goodbye to it
And whisper hello to the moon. 
There is a stillness in darkness always,
But if we listened carefully
There is an orchestra of crickets
Singing the day's song to us.

Wild Honeysuckle

The air smells of the trees' breath,
And I catch the last wink of the sun
Before it closes its eyes

There is rustling in the leaves
As birds call out to the wind
Declarations of life

A scent drifts on by
Familiarly sweet and soft
But I know not from where it comes

Just as it fades
The wind wafts it my way
Lifting my head in its direction

Those wild honeysuckles
Smile down at me delightfully
Like an old friend

The day's relay over,
As the sun passes the torch
To the approaching moon

The smell lingers in my mind
As I write down these words, 
The fireflies are dotting my i's.

In the Middle of the Storm

The baritone roar of the thunder
Shakes awake the drowsy windows,
So they can witness the whip of lightning
Cut across the dark flesh of the sky.
The shattering of rain on surfaces
Like the chatter of the eager audience,
Plays in the background of the scene.
The light dims a little, catching attention,
As the wind cuffs itself to branches
Making them sway back and forth helplessly
Stirring up chaos in the trees,
And I stand there, in the middle of it all,
Watching the world being directed by the storm. 

Today's Snow

The tall tower bellows smoke,
A shade of gray slightly darker
Than the dead-looking sky
That has soaked up the life
Of bright days past
And is now raining down
Cold, deceased bodies
Half decomposed,
And I caught the memory
Of some man unknown
And it melts in my warmth
But I forgot about it
Like all those other memories
That have simply fallen to the ground
Trampled and stepped on
Until they turn black,
Until the rain comes and washes
Them down the drain,
And I only remember
The cold that shook me to the bones
And I forgot that I'm still alive
And I don't want to melt away.

Left 4 Love

The sky was an unnatural gray with a tint of red,
Reflecting your decaying skin and all the recent blood shed,
I watched in unbearable horror as your head
Dipped down to your unmoving victim and you fed
And teared hungrily into her flesh, a mouthful of
Her heart, her blood covered your hands, a pair of red gloves.

I stood there, in the middle of the empty, glass-littered street,
Where smoke rose from buildings like arms in defeat,
And the overturned cars in lampposts were radiating heat,
Warming up the touches of winter's feet,
And though I was silent, there were sounds of absent screams
Ringing in my mind, enshrouding me like opaque steam.

I shivered and you caught my movement in the corner of your eye
You turned slowly and rose to your feet, and inside, I felt myself die,
I can never forget the moment you told me, I laughed thinking it was a joke, a lie,
And as the disease coursed through your body, we said our painful goodbye,
And I cried and cried and ran like you told me,
That you did not want me to see what you will be--

Come, your now apathetic eyes are whispering to me,
And I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, as if undersea,
You shuffled towards me, despite tripping over debris,
You reached out to touch me, but I uttered a soft plea,
I was afraid, but this time I will not flee,
For the sake of setting both you and I free.

I raised my arms shakily and pointed my gun,
Aimed for your head and you paused, stunned,
I stifled my cry, pulled the trigger, and suddenly, it was all done
I collapsed to the ground, becoming undone.
I looked over at your fallen body, forever dead, on the accumulating snow,
Crawled towards it and watched your blood flow with woe,

I hung my head and stared at your changed, yet familiar face,
Your opened eyes, a sorrow in them I wish I could erase,
Your blood-stained lips my fingers lightly traced,
The same blood that dotted my face which the gun displaced,
I placed my hand on your dead heart as the snowflakes fell,
The same bullet that went through you, went through me as well.

I stood up and beheld the cold sky stained red
I heaved a sigh and it materialized like the clouds overhead
I did not notice the tears on my cheek turning red as they thread
Over the blood that you have spread,
And I'll never forget the last words you said,
Your love, your smile, and with this, I look bravely ahead,
At the broken world for which you have bled.

Snow

I taste of the snowflake
That died on my lips
So cold and lifeless, as if fatigued
After traveling so far a distance
Like the scattering of the phoenix's ashes.
This is no well wrought urn
For kamikaze snowflakes,
Simply an anecdote,
Of my body's warm graveyard
For these pieces of fallen sky.

Victoria College, Room 101

There are spirits in the room
As the light pours in, illuminating
The floating words from old texts read
The shadows are etched into the walls
From the past, the same youths
Whom with opened doors to their minds
Welcomed the history that swirled
In that same room, and with my own
Opened door and opened chest
I took in the words
Sitting in the same pew-like seats
Smelling the pages of divine writers
Of the past and there is something
Holy and sacred about them,
Knowing that they came from hands
That have created something
Timeless, that lives to this day
And I believe wholly with my being
Sitting in my usual second row seat
That they live in me, as my shadow
Converse with the ones on the walls
Of the present past, and I am comforted
And strangely attracted to this room,
As if I have been there all along,
As if this is where I should be,
As my shadow is etched into the wall.

Waking up early for my 16th Century Poet & Prose class is always worth it.
This room, so historical and nostalgic, makes me feel so... so in awe.
Of all the things that have transpired, all the passage of time, the learning.
I really did see dancing spirits and have one within myself as well.

Don't Forget to Breathe

My fingertips tap an unknown tune
On the bottom of my half-empty tea cup
The drumming somehow
Leads my thoughts to you.

My hair rises up and down in the wind
Like my chest as I take each step
And I worry that somehow
My secret thought will be unveiled to the world.

Would it not be beautiful
If you received my love
Just by simply breathing air,
The insatiable element in your life?

Published on the 20th of October, 2010.

A Storm's Symphony

Crescendo
Forte, rage
Incessant pounding, strumming
All in unison
The rain marches on
Falling on tympani
The sound vibrations in the air
Like hands and fingertips
Enveloping and touching me
The way air does,
The way air courses through my body
I can feel my soul grow
Like soft, dangerous gray clouds
Like shadows on a sharp note
Like the lines running on and on
My heart beats to the crash of the cymbal
I'm washed by the wave of notes
My body in its command
Aye, I am music's puppet

Change in Season

My eyelids descend like night
When I opened them,
I came to realize that
The once barren trees
On which I hoped for green
Are now once again bare,
For the birds are leaving the trees
The skeleton frame against the gray
Sways to the crunch made by feet
As each foot steps on the once green
Skeletal leaves dried up by the fading sun
The wind, like an automatic broom,
Sweeps up those remains untidily
And the streets are littered
With colours of orange, red, and, yellow.

Cloudy Days

I am chasing clouds like I'm chasing dreams
Refusing to acknowledge that they will disappear
Like a very good magic trick
Leaving me in a confused state.
The clouds, they pity me
And so before they leave,
They cry for me.
I let my dreams wash over me
And they are mine
Until the sun comes out.

Downtown Toronto After Class

The sky was licking a cherry lollipop
Turning its once blue tongue
Into shades of red, pink, and purple.
The air, the breath of a boa constrictor,
Breathing down my back,
And I wonder if the man who passed me
Was also wrapped in its power.
The ambiance is stiller than usual,
The flies like scabs on once open flesh,
And the only noise I hear
Is the incessant buzzing of air conditioners.
While walking through deserted streets,
A black cat crossed my path,
And I wonder if I'm cursed with bad luck.
I walk upon lifeless sidewalks,
Some blocks drenched in sprinkler water.
There are firefly lights permanently perched
On those familiar, disconnected buildings.
The tower still pokes through,
Like the tall kid that stand at the back
During class photo shoots.
Step after step, I relinquish my eyes
Of their observing duties,
As I open the door to my dwelling.

Presence

I've never seen you in this light before
All the shadows and creases and scars on your face
Like the markings of an aged book,
Composed of wisdom and weakness
But I still love you, like a collector of antiques

I'm an anchor-less ship floating
Round and round in your head
The currents of your thoughts
Leading me back and forth
To the land of happiness, sadness, and all

I'm in a hot air balloon
Enveloped in intangible clouds.
I am trying to control where I go
But the wind still carries me to someplace unknown.
There are some things you just can't fight against.

I'm treading the ground you've tread
Breathing the same air processed by the tree you planted
We are basked under the same old sun.
These are things I'll never tire of
Simple love endures.

Composition started: May 23rd, 2010

Red Candle

The light warms our hearts
And the wax leaks over the edge
Trickling down the sides and freezes
In foreign air

He fires a gun and splatters red
The blood slowly runs cold
As it trails away from the body
Onto the indifferent, hard ground