Category: 2023 Ignite Publication

I dream of peace and warm hands.

I abandon the passion of revenge and rage—

I replace it with the feminine capability of emotion so deep it hurts…

I can define how I feel by colors and flowery words,

Not by a punch in the face      or a smile full of blood.

The dirt under my nails from some sort of airy forgetfulness,

Of a preoccupied mind,

A poem of my grace,

(A poem of my sigh)

Not the byproduct of adrenaline-rushed eyes, desperate clawing at the                   hardened ground.

I feel emotion so deep I feel I must fall into   myself;

  I give myself and my image to you—

    I fear I must have misplaced the crazed hysteria of rage so deep it blinded every waking thought with a desire towards inflicted pain.

My bloodied knuckles are our secret;                          a mere fall, officer…

My bloodied knuckles are to be hidden,                      they turn a light pink

they no longer blind my vision by the pale

and quick to fall      apart– 

        chi p.

The pleaded faces and desperate cries hurt my heart,

They no longer fill me with disgust and anger;

my brow softens,

my teeth no longer bite what my fist can’t hurt.

I have all but stopped.

My forked tongue is thinly hidden behind my teeth,

The mark on my back protects me from evil.         

                                                                                                             Cross me two times.

Nature’s hidden treasure

Lying in plain sight

Waiting

Waiting

Waiting

For someone to notice the wonder held within

Deep

Deep

Down

The most precious object rests at the benthic of the lakes

Souls

Only emerging when your reflection gapes over the dark water

Up

Up

Up

The Soul flies to the surface

To show you a reflection of yourself

Who you are

And who you can be

The lakes

Guarding the key to humanity

The only thing that can remind a person of who they are

A reflection

The smallest amenity with the greatest power

The lakes

Holding the Souls of our future and the secrets of our well-being

Their surfaces

Sparkling

Shining

From the brightness of the treasure trove within

I wish, wish, wish to be fast, racing cousins over grass 

I hear’ em calling me a “Slowpoke!”

In the old carriage entering the past 

Watching zip liners, oh, what crazy folk 

On a family stroll I cannot be last 

Paddling past pretty, preening birds in live oaks 

Classifying, cataloging, costumes, choreography, and cast 

Nearly soaked in the moat I am provoked 

Fast balls collide in a clap, a blast 

Everything goes in stir fry 

Noodles are never too cheesy 

Can’t make perfect wonton though I try 

But pancakes are always easy 

Rice is better than mince pie 

We are kings of the world, eating all things leafy 

Poor man’s sushi, as good as blue skies 

Sages don’t always speak a wiser tone 

Their disciples curse in “Uff-das” and “Ai-yahs” 

We don’t cheer “SKOL!” in monotone  

Xiao-meis order phos 

And night owls are never alone 

She says, “Time is money” and “Don’t worry, cous” 

Norway is a ways away 

Never seen Guangdong 

Cook the food as they say 

Listening while still young 

Elders call this child’s play 

Learning his mother tongue 

Teapot needs a vacation day 

I am from people far-flung