And now you wake up to smile
At the dark that has just diluted
After the sleep has disappeared
From your eyes to say goodbye
To your night’s creepy darkness
And smile sweetly at a new sun.
Let a sea blow its vaunted glory
With the beach agog with men
Who are still alive after waking
Along with a new sun and you.
In that bone face, it would appear
Lower mandibles were stretching
And stretching to produce scream
They tried to bite a clever sarcasm,
Surely a futile endeavor, especially
They have no tongue in the cheek.
Seeing is yours in my words.
Seeing is a water not spilling
From a child’s hands clasping
The glass with both his hands
Feet in slow measured motion
Or his squatting on the floor
Drawing feet together to cry,
Opening and closing his feet
Like tentacles,in beach sand
On their way back to the sea.
She has to take loneliness herself
Surrounded by these lonely others .
Spinning tales is a cold loveliness
About empty smiles on frosty lips.
But would knot make difference,
That tied cloth yellow on its hem?
Knots slip away after old together,
In powdery dissolution of bodies.
Crow ,do not sit in rust’s middle
On the television’s antenna dish
As if in the middle of flat earth.
Crow crow ,do not sit in a circle
Where we get news of humans
Pushing each other out of earth.
Crow, do not repeatedly shout
For relatives to arrive with bags.
Crow, fly away to beach where
A dead turtle is washed ashore.
We pick in dirt fallen flowers
For gods to smell a darkness.
We pack our dirt on our faces
From children in their tatters.
They smile through their dirt
And pluck flowers from nails.
Their nails have dirt in them
But they smile as our flowers.
All we do is to ever pray and let
A wind blow through the stalks
And the river flow softly beside.
On the banks are thorn bushes
That will send their fragrances
Tempting towards experience.
The flowers have thorny ridges
With yellow petals that highlight
The girls ‘ snakes of black hair.
The snakes dingdong on the girls
On their fragrant backs of wind.
All we do is to pray and let wind
Blow in weeds and on the backs
And river flow softly by the side
To let experience mildly tempt us.