Poetry

Surreal Moments Surreal moments are only moments they are nothing but transience of that little period of time that carries your heart to ecstasy to the highest happiness of what a human can pursue have chased all their lives to pursue to get there all by coincidences because they disrupt routines the routines that flatten our desires that take us away from feeling alive surreal moments cannot exist long like your life routines because if they do they lose their magic they become a part of your routine and you want more you want more of what you think could not happen I wonder what it takes to capture these moments I often wonder even with this poem I try to capture something I want to remember some assets I have at this moment provoked perhaps by the aftermath of ecstasy but there is nothing no words no pictures could ever record exactly that moment that moment that makes your heart warm for a few days or a week that little smile on your face that lingers like the rainbow crossing over heaven it does not last it should not last but how do you stop wanting it to we spend our lives searching for that ecstasy for the surreal moments but they are nothing but moments and when you try to capture them they are already sneaking through the lax holes of your heart what is left is the painful pleasure of reminiscing of imagining of revisiting but that would be different it is gone forever does it make them a lot more magical perhaps will they ever satisfy my craving perhaps not but let’s just chase after them like we do in a routine and get “surprised” and fall back to the same routine and repeat it’s all nothing

Not You Really Limitation of language, Of human communication. Never can a state of mind be So easily conveyed, communicated, Confined. Confined in our own language. What role does language play In except conveying one’s perception Of the other? Perception, yours, mine, yours, mine, In a conversation. Confined. Confined in perception. Never a unified meaning, Never can one’s truest be known Or understood by all perceptions. Living in perceptions: How you see me But not me really How I see you But not you really How I see me But not me really. So what if time feeds you and I, I and I… First-person perception so subjective But never the most accurate, Never closest to the truth — For what is truth? There is no truth, except a web of perceptions. Tis a world of perceptional reality, The only reality we see is our own perception Other perceptions as responses, confused Intertwined, like rays of fantasies Imagination. Nothing is real. Why do we pretend like we know When no answer could be there to answer anything?

It Never Will Be Watery lashes and coated vision, Racing breaths and loveless chest, From nostalgia or from gated love, From desire of touch or nothingness. Inspired by image and voice of her similar double, By public confession of regret, of what should had been. (Am I self-absorbed to think the lover was me?) But for sake of happiness, my only valuable asset, Practical and rational, theories and practice are separate: It never was and it never will be.

Dead End Drowned in the black sea of death Hot tears blurted from painful chest. Swung about in the tornado of stress Thief of the sun she never confessed. Frozen at bottom under piles of mess, Now all is motionless, quiet and dead. Hanging down faintly a weak wavering thread None on the other end but more tears to shed.

Stop Dating Your Phone People at the next table talking Their stories I’m intently listening Their jokes I’m bitterly laughing You sit right in front and I don’t hear you talking About your stories or your jokes But only someone else’s Some strangers’ Because you Are somewhere else On your phone Intently texting away non-stop Or scrolling away Instagram non-stop So I get it We are on a double date Occasionally glancing up From your date with your phone To ensure that I am still here eating With my date with myself Are you worried that your pda with your date Would be too in my face? How about you put away your phone Your goddamn inanimate date To ensure that I am here enjoying And spending my time right With you I’d rather be alone With my mind concentrated on my own world Listening to stories of another table Wholeheartedly as quiet entertainment Instead of having someone here Suggesting that I should share my world But have me know that I cannot Because I am less interesting than your phone Your goddamn inanimate phone It is all just frustrating why You would rather dine with your phone Than with me I mean spiritually I do not want to implore but Can’t you see I feel incompetent than your phone Your precious inanimate date Oh, how ridiculous does that sound But I still implore Just once and once only: Stop dating your phone, please