Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Broken Twig

Goddess of winter is at last awake
There are arrivals of departures
Of seasons and peoples
Bees of hours suck honey
From the flowers of my chronicle
Of love of an eternal whore
Every season brings a relic
From some far-away corner
Where the twilight scatters his shadow
Tentacles of nameless desires
Slither within me
Like swimming in the flood of wind
Like walking with no end
In the trimmed fields of ripe paddy
Like laying at the foothill
Caressing the green fur of the mammoth mountain
Like knitting a yarn from the cotton cloud...
Of all ...
Golden evening sky with the lonesome star
Broke the branches of my heart
My tears are none but
The dew at the tip of a broken twig

Friday, September 3, 2010

Open Door

When you wake up from my arms
When the glow worms beckons you
When you wish to read
The golden poems written by dusk on the horizon
                                        The door is painfully open

When the orchids have woven their garlands
When the thunder wakes you up
When you wish you disentangle
Your fingers from my hair
                                        The door is painfully open

When the echoes from highlands come to blow
With the growl of the valley
When you wish to take up your weapon                 
Of warhead with rose
When you wish to whisper the last word
                                         The door is painfully open

When you want to become the son of this earth
When the throne await you to be crowned
When you wish to dethrone
The maiden of this soil
                                        The door is painfully open

When the “chengi”of tresses of other woman lures you
When the songs of my valley no more pleases you
When you wish to shrug off from my aroma
From the cage of my love
                                     The door is painfully open