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Sep 06 2013 
The Black
in the pitch dark
the wet boughs
of the burnt palm—standing at the foot of a burnt hill—
sing the song of silence…
silence: full of ghostly echo piercing through
ears, bones, flesh, and soul…
with refrains
ringing
like a verdict of the court sentencing an innocent to death…
grasshoppers subdued
stones deaf
trees numb
landscape dumb…
an ant slips off a stone for the hundredth time and
a little … Continue reading -
Sep 06 2013 
On Couch I Lay Rewinding The Movie
on couch I lay rewinding the movie…
the space followed by time followed the clock—
ding-dong ping-pong sing-song
several sounds noise
a hotchpotch a yarn a twister
Brando wept wistfully Kate smiled
Hopkins roared Hanks strolled
a tea cup was breeding a storm
violent uncontrollable rare
several threads were intertwined with each other
the writer could not so I had not been able to stop … Continue reading
