your plastic heart
can endure so much like mine
celandine
Celandine
Short Poem
Sunset
Is it the ocean’s kiss
that revives a dying sun?
or the moon’s longing whispers?
If not,
is it the hushed tears from the blinking stars?
Heart on the Clothline
I saw your heart
billowing on the clothline
where you hung it out to dry,
while your soul left
for forty days of fasting in the desert.
Through your now clear
and transparent husk
I could see
you have marked the place
where you would
put them back—
right next to your wounds.
Cauldron of Silence
You punish me
by loading
your cauldron of silence
on my back.
It weighs heavy
but your antagonistic eyes
warn me
I cannot spill even a drop
and if I did,
it would take
a whole sky of paper napkins
to wipe it dry.
Somewhere I belong.
As if I needed a reason
to leave the porchlight on
for you to come looking for me
beneath the Bougainville planter
next to the bottom porch step
where I buried my heart
along with the house keys
and place me in the locket
resting above your heart
which is the only place I know
as somewhere I belong.
Trailing Daisies
Yellow Trailing Daisies appear when Summer ends, bringing along with itna wistful feeling.
This one is for Summer.
Just one hour left
to release my breath
my subdued wild heartbeats
that starved all summer
for the lemon peels in your skin
and the water mint in your sighs.
Just one hour left
one that isn’t easy as they think
with the time not hungry as I am
for the midnight jasmines in your hair.
Empty For Words
I was too empty for words.
The truth is,
the sword I kept in my tongue
to deflect
only the sentences that betray me,
beheaded,
even my carefully scripted texts
at the turnstiles of my throat.
So I am taking this rain
you have left for me
to redeem
at least my empty eyes.
Penance
Everytime I think of you
the fingerprints you left on my skin
rise up into the air
forming glowing inkblots
of a Rorschach Test
that I always describe
as shapes of the wounds I caused
when I was being mean.
I wish instead
for once they resemble
the constellation
you named after me
when you hid it in my soul.
Daddy’s Girl I will Always Be
When I miss him
I wear his gold toned Seiko Watch
that he left for me.
It’s cold metal
grafts his skincells
into my wrist
and it’s heartbeats
sing Daddy’s little girl
in morse code
along with my heart
and my tears
dry on their own.
They Envy Copper Pods
Copper Pod is my most favourite summer flower.
The copper stems and buds that blooms to yellow five petal flowers with wavy egde made me ignore ever other summer flower.
They told me
that they envy me
because you write
poems for me.
Just to get them off my back
will you write a haiku
on weather
or the low pressure
over the north of
Bay of Bengal?
Musings of a Wandering Dryad 