Poetry Anthology

Bluefish

In a shoal of yellowfish there is a bluefish

She rolls in between waves and makes some bubbles, following the flow

Unlike others, she has eight seconds of memory

She swims to a yellowfish and wishes to make friends

But her friends would always forget who she is before she does

She then swims back with sorrow, but forgets the reason of her sorrow

She moves on, though

She would keep trying until she gets tired and falls asleep

and continues the next morning

One day, she meets another bluefish in the shoal

The first second she sees him, the next second they fall in love

The third second they hold hands

The fourth second they dance

The fifth and sixth second they have the happiest time in their lives

The seventh second he kisses her

Tick, time resets, he looks at her with confusion

It turns out that he doesn’t have the eighth-second memory

Eventually, the extra second is torment

Puzzle

Sun ray shoots into the unopened dusty room

You can see everything

Even the smallest particle in the air

is reflecting the immeasurable energy from the sun

Through the narrow gap

the patched curtain and the old rotten window frame makes

in the dusty order

lying a box of puzzle from a fraction of my sealed memory

It was a cozy fall afternoon

Puzzle pieces cluttered on the floor

Bang. Voice of smashing and yelling entered my room, but I stopped caring

We used to solve puzzles together

Mom found the pieces, and Dad was the expert in putting them together

When we finish one, we put it in a frame and hang it on walls

Home was always filled with laughter

After, only I was left to solve the puzzles

They stopped living in the same room, stopped talking to one another

Home turned into the quietest street with two strangers

I solved my last puzzle, but the last piece was gone

I rummaged my room again and again

Clothes were scattered, and books were torn apart

“It’s gone,” I told myself.

“Things are not the same as before.”

Puzzle was broken up again

The last piece of my memory was sealed back in box

I’ve Gotten Used to You

I’ve gotten used to watch you paint canvas

Dye plain white into beautiful flowers

And I would sit by your side for hours

Recall the time when we first met in Vegas

I’ve gotten used to play the game of alias

When we pretend not knowing each other

And you would always call yourself Parker

I always lost, but I became your devas

I’ve gotten used to your imperfections

I’d say I love you and you always knew

I was the only girl you would fall for

All your weaknesses were like perfections

I’ve gotten used to every part of you

Yet you are not beside me anymore

Delusion (I)

Where eyes can see are burning vermilion, extending

to the very end of the sky. Something leaps into

the air, and spreads around us.

“Do you actually exist?”

           

He stops walking and looks

into the sky. Sunset outlines the finest

shape of his side profile.

“Who knows.

Perhaps yes, if you believe.”

“Isn’t there a more accurate answer?

How can you prove that you exist?”

Unsatisfied, I yell towards his back figure.

“Use your faith, your

hands and your feelings,

to create my existence”

Air delivers a word, but I

know it is not from him.

If you believe,

I exist. If you don’t,

I would vanish.

Crisp wind draws a cut on

my face, I run back home in his camel trench coat.

Delusion <II>

How did he walk into my life?

Under what kind of dawn, dusk,

or what kind of rainy night,

did he recklessly enter my life?

“how are you blanking

out even after class?” I clear my thoughts

and look at him. He sits on the table

right beside me, eyes are as clear as

the water in Buntzen Lake.

“I will finish your homework for you.

Let’s go home.”

Outside of classroom are crimson sunsets.

Traffics all light up their headlights,

like flowing flames.

“You are home early today.” Mom says.

“He finished the homework for me.”

“…Again?”

I nod. I am friends with him since we we were small,

mom knows him as well.

She sighs and walks back into her bedroom.

Door closes.

Delusion <III>

“How was the sleep last night?”

He stands in front of my door,

as usual. I take the breakfast from

his hand and walk down the street.

“It’s alright.” I swallow the last piece of

bread. Sunlight escapes from thick layers of

cloud and projects mild glows on ground.

“Why do I exist on this world and be able to feel everything?” 

He steps forward with his left foot, Shadow follows him.

No matter how hard it tries, it can only be connected to him. 

Like invisible chain.

“Just like this, if I hope it to do something,

it has to follow.” He stares at the asphalt road. “But,

how can I assure that the shadow

is not belong to someone else? How can I assure if

everything I am feeling right now is real?”

It feels like my heart just missed a beat.

“Just joking,” he pulls me up from the chair

“it’s time to get back to school.”

I let him pull me back on the street,

like soaked in iced water.

“Why is that girl talking to herself?”

I stare at the pedestrians with confusion,

our shadows prolonged under sunlight.

                       

Delusion <IV>

How long have I not seen a sunset?

He takes off his scarf and tangle it around

my neck. “Look up,” he says.

It’s snow, I never thought I would see snow

in this small town in the south. Snow flakes

falls off from the blank sky, like marshmallows.

 “Do you want them to become bigger?” The voice feels

like it comes from the other side. “…hm?”

Wind blows in my ear with snow flakes,

he runs to me and grabs my arm. We are running

down the staircases. His hand burns in

winter wind. He suddenly stops in front of me,

and my nose gets hit on his back bones.

I didn’t hug him like the characters on tv shows, although

I had to admit it was hard to resist.

I can’t hug him.

The four words bangs inside my head, turning

My brain into the messiest glue paste.

I can’t hug him.

I will lose him.

I don’t know how did the thought appear inside my head,

I don’t want to know. In every way,

the word “losing” sounds terrifying enough.

I look up. He stands on one stair above

me, smiling. Is this really him?

“you are not real after all.”

A girl crying on staircase, with sunset

and snow, makes up the last photo of the life.

“I was the invisible light and dust. You

made me up from your imagination.”

The voice I have been hearing for 17 years

telling the truth word by word.

“The day when you stop to believe in

my existence, it’s the time for me

to go. He died in a car crash four years

ago. And you, have been living in your world

for four years now.”

Air in my lungs are almost emptied, all there are left

are the undispersible painfulness.

“Even though this is the end of the end,

I still have something for you to say.”

Delusion <V>

“what did he wanted to say, Grandma?”

“I thought I liked you.”

“What about now?”

“I will wait for you.”

Finishing the sentence, she is like

she just got into a long sleep.

Dream that is impossible to be waken from,

What is inside?