Remains
the sun
the same
day in
day out
millions of years
above
land
and sea
it creeps up
then down
as constant
as a clock
as unchanged
as death
TL
Poetry
Remains
the sun
the same
day in
day out
millions of years
above
land
and sea
it creeps up
then down
as constant
as a clock
as unchanged
as death
TL
Fisherman
he grew up
around water
his uncle pushed him
in
and that’s how he learned
how to swim
he almost drowned once
but an uncle-in-law jumped
in
water taught him
basic lessons
a boy should know
his father
his grandfathers
his uncles
and his brother
made sure of that
he drove a boat
long before he drove
trucks and tractors
he spent his summers
fishing off the bow
trolling along the edges
at the crack of dawn
catch and release
that’s what a lot of fishing
is about
catching and releasing
when you’re a boy
it’s all about the FISH
catching a fish
when you’re a teenager
it’s all about how many fish
you can catch
when you’re a man
it’s all about
catching and releasing
a fish
when you’re an old man
it’s all about
releasing
a fish
and watching it swim
a w a y
the sound of water
is essential
to the mind and its memory
an old man
laid up in the bed
can close his eyes
and hear the water lapping …
thumping against
the sides of the boat
and drift off
to sleep
trolling along
the edge
TL
Inner Spring
when
the green is
dry
like it never knew
the rain
or the weight
of ice
stretched tight
against the grain
it’s like
a storm
that never was
like it was never not
Spring
and people played
not
for cash
or metal
or autograph
but for the feel
the sound
the flow
the ebb and flow
of the greens
what it gives
what it takes
what it requires
in return
TL
Gray Days
a clenched fist
clenched jaw
clenched stare
out into the middle
of no
where
everything’s a fight
does life get
better
or worse
both
the clouds cover
the sun
the blue covers
the clouds
the rain covers
the blue
it’s never jest
one way
or the other
too many leaves
on the ground
too many petals
gone
a line of ants
duplicate
replicate
regenerate
it’s a constant thing
are you in
or you out
a poker face now
rap’s on the radio
a bird lands
at the edge
of a puddle
steps in
and bathes
wet feathers
in the rain
daffodils are just
beneath the surface
breaking ground
does the mirror show
the damage
does the clock
tell the time
did anyone change
the batteries
in the remote
if you didn’t make the mess
would you clean it up
anyways
or think someone else
would
or will
what if
they won’t
what if
they don’t
what if they
did
what if they
do
TL
(written in my car Jan. 24, 2024)
Roses in the Snow
there’s a soft glow
of light
just outside her door
it stayed lit
while she was away
growing brighter
by the day
ever bright
at her return
and the birds and squirrels
all know
it was not an easy go
so the birds sing a little louder
and the squirrels play a little longer
and there’s a hummingbird
vibrating just outside her window
he peeks in
for a millisecond
stopping time
but nobody ever sees him
but her
he’s waiting
for Spring
and his feeder
to be filled
to the rim
TL
Christmas Tree
golden leaves
awash in the sun
cling to the branch
of this bare tree
parked in front of me
these four bright bulbs
strung in a line
all lit up
at Christmastime
I stare at these leaves
that refuse to fall
in the dead of winter
they’ll be green in the Spring
when the tree bears buds
and begins again
birds will land and leave
and someone else
in another time
and place
will stare at this tree
full of leaves
and in the winter
of their life
the tree will be bare
blurred in the rain
lost in the wind
save for the branch
all lit up in lights
at Christmastime
TL
Across the Sea
on the ocean
so clear
drop the lights
there
bulbs that twinkle
day and night
no need for a tree
it should stand in the dirt
not the sea
no need for a gift
the day you were born
was more
than a wish
more than
a cave of stars
a heart can break
from too much pain
or too much joy
those are the moments
that move
like clouds
after rain
the peek of the sun
shining through
finding the sea
the wave
drop the lights
there
TL
Rocky
last night
I saw the real
Rocky
he was just
a little kid
sitting there
telling his story
his life story
he just wanted
what all little boys want
and need …
a loving father
someone to look up to
someone you could count on
someone who would protect you
someone who would talk to you
someone who would believe in you
someone who loved you more than himself
Rocky never got any of that
from his father
quite the opposite
so he turned his pen into a magic wand
and created the dad he should have had
the dad all broken men
should have had but didn’t
this was important not only for him
but for all those
who grew up
abused and abandoned by a parent
or parental figure
whether it was a mother
a father
or both
movies like Rocky
help the helpless
feel less
a l o n e
TL
Responsibility
there’s a grave
sadness
in the air
I can feel it quite
every
where
it’s in the vacant
stare
of that boy
there
that girl
here
after the camera clicks
the credits roll
the lights dim
the doors close
and every
body
goes on
home
the trash still needs
picking up
somebody has to stay
behind
and clean it
up
all the mess
else it’ll
pile up
and be too much
to bear
too hard
… too late
TL
Baby Blues
when she
comes back
I’ll be stooped
and low
looking at the ants
below
won’t see the sky
or stars at night
no sun
no moon
or tops of trees
or airplanes
headed out
I’ll see the drops
that fall
to ground
and remember
the river
her head down
picking up rocks
turning ‘em over
keeping a few
leaving the rest
yeah, when she comes back
I’ll be stooped
and low
looking at her
sole
wonder what she’ll wear
flat or heeled
or bare
TL
Willie Nelson
at 6
he was
a poet first
at 90
he still
is
TL
Through and Through
maybe
the journey
for each
one of us
who is born
and lives
and dies
has something
to do
with a returning
of who you were
before
life had a say
in it
before
you got hurt
before
you put the armor on
before
you put the face on
before
you walked away
from innocence
the innocence
of a child
the one who lives
within
each one of us
we forget this
in the process
of building a life
we forget
but in twilight years
we reach out
to this forgotten child
inside
and we see
what we could not see
and we feel
what we could not feel
and we know
what we could not know
until
we crossed that clearing
and moved further along
the path
of understanding
true understanding
that tells us
in the quiet
at the close of day
there is a morning
after
in every ending …
there is a beginning …
a transition
that is circular
TL
Britney Spears
through tears
i just finished
reading your book
and i believe
it will help heal
not only you
but countless others
around the world
who have suffered
and survived
unimaginable things
in life
but can still find joy
in the smallest of things
and pure peace
within
the peace that
makes you strong …
stronger than you thought
you could ever be
TL
(“I look at the fact that I survived
and I think, That wasn’t me;
that was God.” – page 236 – The Woman in Me)
The Internal and External
in the way
of the world
all things connect
never more so
than in nature
where the language
and meaning
are unspoken
but felt
the deepest
beneath the vastness
of the ocean
the endlessness of the sky
the other side of the sea
it travels in a raindrop
that reaches the seed
and finds the sun
it is ever in the wind
that carries time
marking the seasons
the lift and fall
of leaves
the tumble of stones
in the riverbed
the wearing away of all prints
like grass over dirt
like shells in the water
like trees in a storm
that stand
a hundred years
or more
like smoke from a fire
that dresses the wind
but a moment
like stars in the sky
that twinkle
like rain in the morning
the dew on grass
the earth is ever moving
and still
it can be both
moving and still
at the same time
here
or there
TL
Life Lessons
despite
my circumstances
growing up
i did not dwell
or feel sorry
for myself
it’s almost like
i chose to live
an inward life
or maybe i didn’t choose
maybe it was just a natural instinct
i don’t know
i just remember
always looking at the bright side
of dark things
whether it was in people
or in circumstances
or in situations
when you’re young
i think you’re more resilient
in a way that is different
from an adult
during the pandemic
as a grown adult
I actually felt
sorry for myself
which was not me
not my nature
but all of a sudden
I could feel this hatred
radiating from strangers
wherever I went
wherever I’d go
it got to the point
where I did not want to leave the house
not from fear of getting sick
but from what people thought of me
at a glance
this is when I first met Amazon
and had groceries delivered to my door
I’d lie awake in tears
hiding my pain
it hurt so much
it still does
but knowing what to expect
helps
the first few times
I was unprepared for the pain
it is better to know
what you’re dealing with
from the get-go
I thought I was stronger
than that
had been through enough
stuff
but to walk through a parking lot
and into a grocery store
any store
and be openly hated
and avoided
and blamed
for being Asian in America
was something I had never fully felt
before
the hate was hidden before
but no more
I’ve always known that if there was a war
between the US and an Asian country
what to expect
but the pandemic
caught me off-guard
hatred is a learned thing
from generation to generation
but so is love
TL
Wallpaper
the pattern
on the wall
is cracked
and peeled
remember when
it was
a simple sample
shot
in a book
with too many squares
but an eye
of discern
a glimpse of
possibility
that could dress
a room
cradle a crib
light a kitchen
run down the hall
open and close the door
rest and wake
wake and rest
make a mistake
maybe a zillion
and one
but we never did
did we
pick a pattern
‘cause someone preferred paint
the other paper
white walls stood
instead
in every room
without a word
letting the paintings
speak
for an artist
still in stages
who started out
in print
small prints
cracked
and peeled
and full of color
a mixture of paint
and paper
TL
Allie Sherlock
her voice
lifts
off the street
through the cables
and the dark night
into the vastness
of the open net
and finds me
where I sit
on a Saturday
morning
in the South
unaware
she even exists
until I hear the strings
of her guitar
and her voice through the mic
belting out
one of my most favorite
songs
Hallelujah …“I heard there was
a secret chord …”
not anyone can sing
this song
the only rendition was Buckley
and he’s dead
this girl’s from Dublin, Ireland
and can sing the notes outta
this song
and I’m sitting there
wondering why
WHY
hasn’t this girl
already made it
to the concert stage
why isn’t she
on tour
around the world
doesn’t make sense
and she writes her own
stuff
full of aching
and yearning
and need
the music won’t
let her be
she will sing
no matter
where
whether on the street
or in the car
the shower
the rain
in the cold
the heat
a true artist
must create
what’s inside
it is in their very being
to leave something
dear
and beautiful
and real
behind …
just knowing she is out there
in the world
somewhere singing
and writing
and creating
strumming her guitar
or dancing over the keys
with her pen
and her paper
grammy or no grammy
making music
and gifting it
to the world
… is every reason
why …
(heard her voice for the first time
this morning, Sept. 23, 2023, what a gift)
TL
Through the Lens
a halo
in your eyes
it’s hard to say
good
bye
but that’s what
people do
don’t they
they say
i love you, too
and always will
and then they leave
you
where they found you
and you no longer
reach for fortune cookies
‘cause the message’s
never true
and all the dandelions
can keep their hair
from blowing in the wind
and all the candles
on the cake
can keep on burning
down the wick
and all the songs
can keep on singing
drowning on
and on
is it Fall already
no one can tell you
what life is like
only the dead know
what life is really like
at least that’s what they say
from
far
far
away
looking through a clear
unclouded lens
i dreamed last night
or was it
the night before
it was like a painting
in the sky
changing shape
like the clouds
i’m better now
not as angry
anymore
still angry
just not as angry
anymore
looking through the scope
and seeing what no one saw
and i cry for her
‘cause she was golden good
i watch what happened to her
and want to warn her
protect her
but i can’t
so i close my eyes
and go to her
in my time machine
and open the door
and pick her up
and carry her out
and put her
in a better
place in time
where she can
grow up safe
and unafraid
the clouds are on the move
the sun is on the rise
the rain has washed away
what was
a blade of grass
is never cut the same
way
like how a heart
breaks and bleeds
TL
Tiny Turtle
this morning
before coffee
I wiped the counter
top
in the loo
and wiped the turtle off
too
he went sailing
through the air
and bounced
so hard
against the tile
his glass head
went one way
and his body
went the other
picked up the pieces
and examined the shell
and thought
well
now he’s just hiding
inside
like turtles do
from time
to time
TL
Remembering
the grief
of a country
in the collective loss
of its people
on a day
that will live on
within US all
is a continuum
of life
and how we live it
by staying true
to the belief
that a country
is only as great
as its people
no matter what
befalls a nation
it is the human
aspect
of resilience
that makes a difference
and can be traced back
to childhood
when a baby
goes from rolling over
to crawling
to pulling up
to standing
to then taking
that first step
only to fall down
but gets back up
and tries again
determined to walk
without falling
and before long
those steady steps
lift off the floor
and all you see
is a streak
and all you hear
is laughter
it is the human spirit
that connects US
all
TL