NAPOWRIMO - 20 April 2006 - Moonlight Pond

Trees stand tall with pride,
and curtains part to reveal
the moon, beaming to silent ovation.
The pond, its mirror
reflects its brilliance.

The Pond-Moonlight by Edward Steichen:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/usa/story/0,,1709964,00.html

NAPOWRIMO - 19 April 2006 - Journey Home

Hotel California on the radio
and a breeze from the air-conditioner,
were cool relief from evening heat
and muffled blast of horns.
The highway was a sea of cars streaming
for home, caught buckled together
like a long metal snake.
And cables hung on steel poles
like disorganized spider webs.
Sunlight stole glimpses,
between silhouettes of buildings,
of cables hung on steel poles
like disorganized spider webs.
The sun, a sparkling orange opal,
awed the world this twilight
before obscurity consumed.
And headlights paved the way
to warm meals and cool wine
with loved ones. But for now,
the sun was still life on canvas.

NAPOWRIMO - 18 April 2006 - Your Love

You said my eyes could talk
and make love to you
with a flick of lashes,
and you have to feel them
with your tongue
to taste the language.
And my lips were candied cotton fluff
that you wanted to gorge on,
until you were blue.
And my body was a sea
in a sun-lit afternoon
for you to bath in the warmth
and drown in pleasure.
You said my love was like a jar
of aromatic oil, its fragrance
lingered in the air
and kissed your skin.

But your love was like a hurricane
that came and swirled my world
into havoc, then destroyed and left
me to pick out your pieces.

NAPOWRIMO - 17 April 2006 - Muse

My muse is like an ant in my brain.
Sometimes it just lazes in a bath
of slimy neurons and plumps up
false sensations of contentment.
At other times, especially when press
with deadlines, it crawls
haphazardly at mighty high speed
and lays its eggs everywhere.
I have to scoop them up from deep grooves
and pluck them from branches.
And then pile them up in a nice heap
to see if they would hatch up
an inspiration or two.
Sometimes, I would get trick eggs
which would stink my poems.
And I would grit my teeth
and leave them to burn
like my garden compost.
And I’d threaten my wandering muse,
I’d do the same to her
if the next batch are just as rotten.
If she’s amused, she'll promise to lay
some golden ones for me to play with.
I will wait.

NAPOWRIMO - 16 April 2006 - We Wait Together

We buried you in tear-soaked soil,
honoured with flowers and burnt incense.
The vigils we keep are ours to break
for we rejoice that the stigmata has ended.
And like the way Jesus live in our body and blood,
you live on in our visions and together
we await the resurrected world.

NAPOWRIMO - 15 April 2006 - Two Views

Voices became magnified bat talk,
smiles became snarls
and teeth became fangs
after ten hours in the office.
So before I became a werewolf
I trudged to the pantry.

I peered out the window
and on this rainy day, I saw
a field with mole hills
stuffed with vegetations,
scattered weeds and tiny flowers.
And where the horizon met the sky
with a light blurry blue,
hills lined up like dunce caps.
Cars sped down rivers of highway
like coloured lightning,
and others parked in yellow boxes
peeped out of swaying trees
to pose as drops of rainbow,
if you squint your eyes at them.

Water boiled and I returned
to make a cup of Milo.
And the smell was as sweet
as the scene I saw ten stories below

NAPOWRIMO - 14 April 2006 - For Mom

The tears in my eyes
are treasures to me.
I wrap each drop
carefully in tissue
and place it in a box.
I take them out
when I want to see
my mother’s smile,
hear her voice
or remember her eyes
when we held conversation
during the scarce time
that both of us could afford.
If I treasure the tears
long enough, would a tear-fairy
come along and trade
each tear for each moment
to live again.

NAPOWRIMO - 13 April 2006 - Confusion

Bouts of dysentery, protozoan infection,
wrack cognition, interpret
and transmit senses to confuse.
Irises mush the shadow in the cranium.

Muscles contract and dilate,
fool the fibers to function
like clowns, no, puppets.
Fingers pull the strings.

Blood and fluid accumulate
and evacuate reasons,
leaving behind perceptions
that palpitate the constitution.
Your contribution is the confusion.

NAPOWRIMO - 12 April 2006 - Rainy Day

I sat behind my desk
in my cubicle
and counted raindrops
on the window pane.
They carried me to you.

But my voice failed
to carry a wave
to hook your ears
with my songs.
And I closed my eyes
to try to see you.

Shadows of you
haunted me as I sat
in this raft
at the end of my ocean.
And you sat
at your ocean
behind your desk
in your cubicle
downstairs.

NAPOWRIMO - 11 April 2006 - Meows and Purrs

You would spank my butt
and call me a killer,
when I bring you gifts.
And I would save you some feathers
on my whiskers instead.
When I rub them on your feet,
you would nudge me off in protest.
And I would sulk
with my oriental eyes,
which never fail to fluff you up
and give me a hug.

I would sometimes irritate you
when I roll on muddy grass
and perfume my coat with dirt.
You would wrinkle your nose
and soak me in a bath.
And I would scream
and try to wriggle free
but you would whack me
on my nose to silent me.

You would push me
off the table when I eye
your juicy steak with wicked sins,
and feed me fish instead.
Well, I guess as long as we know
each other well enough,
it doesn't matter
if my meows are just meows
and purrs just purrs to you,
they just mean I love you.