The Tides Flow So Swiftly

You didn’t notice it before, but the tides flow so swiftly.
Almost 18 years have gone by without fanfare,
So take the time to be grateful for the small things.
Take out your headphones, put away all the distractions.
Just be. Look at the tide swirling around you
And as you stand there thinking about then, this, and there,
You can hear it moving ever so faintly.
The raindrops pattering the sidewalk,
A gasp of surprise when the Sunday school kids have grown,
The cars whooshing by, carrying people and their worries away.
They say we are fish out of water but look at you.
Swimming with fins, scales, gills, and all,
Even if it was only for a moment.

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On loving.

I keep my love for you in my backseat jean pockets,
A good luck charm for those rainy days that have no golden lining.
On the nights I can’t sleep,
Thinking of you puts my mind at ease knowing tomorrow is another day where you will be.
It is good the sun rises and falls, it means I am still alive to be with you.
Loving you is seeing the good in everything and nothing all at once,
Feeling the world through your hands, seeing with your eyes,
And realizing with the bitter crush of disappointment that you are not here.
Love like this should be kept secret,
Because once the cat’s out of the closet there’s no going back.
I’m a tender gardener whose large loving hands can’t seem to fit her gloves,
So I’m learning to plant the seeds wisely one by one.
Otherwise, I find myself in a garden full of thorns.

A Hollow Hallow (a villanelle in iambic pentameter)

On Sundays, people kneel in pews hollow.
Each prays silently carrying the weight
of their sins, hoping to be made hallow.

I left the tracks I was meant to follow.
If anyone asks, it was all their hate,
all their words that made religion hollow.

Nobody knows for certain; I wallow
That grey space twixt hell and heaven- my fate.
I face the choice to be damned or hallow.

Dangerous desire is a shadow
that will taunt a father’s righteous irate.
This fear has made a daughter’s love hollow

I find myself drowning in the shallow
of my thoughts; I usurped the Godly fate
Of a future marriage to be hallow.

There is no hope to escape the gallow;
I know the judgment of God and men wait
for me. Seeking love in law is hollow.

Denying the truth brings only sorrow,
Yet I can’t stop the tantalizing bait
of safety in the intimate hollow.
My selfish desire makes all hallow.


Oh gosh this villanelle took two days to write in 4-6 hrs. I finished the rhyme scheme when I discovered that the rhythm was wayyy off. So I rewrote each line with 10 syllables. WHAT A CHORE. But it was worth it. I’m practicing my structured poems to become a better creative writer. I took inspiration from the disjointed lines of Elizabeth Bishop’s One Art. It’s also a villanelle, but it doesn’t strictly follow 10 syllables, she sometimes has 11. #rebel🤯 I love her poem because the subject fits the style of the poem which is the goal of structured poetry. Unfortunately, I’m not at Bishop level 2000, and I’m stuck at level 1 where my structure is forced. My goal is to get better. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this poem and please do comment what you think I am alluding to. 

Comfort Food

I.
Raw-men, stood in food lines starving after a nuclear war and endless months of bombing.
What they say came of it was one of the greatest culinary inventions of all time.
A cup, hot water, 3 minutes to end world hunger.
II.
Sitting in a ramen shop,
I was weary after years of holding my own hate and now the weight of bearing yours was too much.
And as I drank the tonkatsu broth, it filled my insides with an empty sort of warmth;
I couldn’t tell if the saltiness was added by my tears.
You saw the hurt on my face and I think you offered your egg to me as you always do, but I said no.
III.
On special mornings you make ramen for us before school,
but on the worst mornings you can’t even pull yourself out of bed.
It’s simply easier to avoid a war if you never show up.

To my family and friends

When you learn to love a girl who lives in others’ shoes,
You will come to realize that all parts of her will always care too much and hope too strongly.
Please remind her not to forget to love herself,
every soul is like a potted plant and hers she often forgets to water.
Sometimes she will spread herself thinly
almost disappearing and she will need someone to bring her back together.
Please remind her that mistakes make her more human because this girl is always trying to be everyone’s wonder woman when there are times no one can bear life’s struggle alone.
-10/2/17

Kleptomaniac

you snuck in through the windows I hadn’t barred, stealing all the pen and paper in my house.
Next, you came for my dreams.
a talisman filtering my thoughts,
every waking moment I only see you.
I kept warning myself that alarms should be set up before you steal something important, like my heart.
But I can’t help but feel each night a terrified longing,
waiting to see what you steal next.
And before I knew it
there were no fire alarms when you committed arson
and this fire you’ve set a flame inside me won’t stop burning.

The Roads We Have Taken

two paths diverged from a road
you took one and I, the other
when we look back at the roads we traveled
both of us will be sorry for what we had
But I will be the sorrier for not being the friend you wished you had

two paths diverged from a road
I had to find my own way
because you had already been long gone
when my eyes opened to see it was only a ghost of you that I had been loving all along

two paths diverged from a road
I left you unwillingly while you gaily alighted away
and it cleaved my heart in two to see we no longer had common ground

two paths diverged from a road
I hope it has made me braver in choosing my own

a response to Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken

Golden Record: The Ultimate Mixtape

3500 miles per hour
spinning out beyond the known limits of our galaxy
is a recording
of the electrical impulses of a mind and body in love
and while I’m listening to this podcast
I can’t help but make a metaphor out of this
this is how you stole my heart
every time I look at you
you send my heart
shooting off into the dangerous, beautiful cosmos
stealing all of the breath out of my lungs
there is no oxygen in this perfect vacuum
nothing but gas and dust particles
and distant lights from suns that shone 13 eons ago
maybe nothing will become of this golden record
it will be lost in the dark expanse of time and space
or maybe
someone or something
will decipher the static of brainwaves
the sound of flowing air whooshing in and out of lungs
the thudding of a yearning heart
Perhaps they may listen
And have a tiny glimpse into the passion that defines mankind
-inspired by Radiolab

F***boy

she pushes you against the wall
after school in a hidden hallway
pushing her lips to yours like you are the air she breathes
her kisses are innocent like forget-me-nots
warm like breezy summer nights at the beach before a crackling fire
she pushes you against the wall
after passing period
and instead of passion you taste possession
her lips trail the boundaries on your skin that mark you for her own
you wonder when did your kisses become a show for the people watching
she pushes you up against the wall
After your football game
she is too sweet like candy you have gorged yourself on
All you feel is guilt when she finally leaves
Despite your efforts, she caramel sticks to parts of you
Refusing to let go
she pushes you up against the wall
After she finds you kissing someone else
her lips have become the mouth of a roaring dragon
her words sear across your skin like fire
and when she leaves you forever
all you feel is a cold relief
You used to watch her from afar
a trophy wife, you wanted to claim her
but when you finally had what you wanted
there was nothing left to make you stay
P.S. Sorry guys I know I shared this 4 months ago, but I added the last paragraph and I hope you guys can still enjoy it. Please comment what you thought. I want to perform this for slam poetry in the future.

LA Adventures

I.
There is a tree in Little Tokyo where passersby have tied their wishes on scraps of paper.
Maybe it’s the thought that the rain will wash away the evidence of naked longing that people allow themselves to be vulnerable and share their fervent desires.

“I want to make it into UCLA ‘22”

“I want to find love.”

But even if the ink washes away the memory of pen on paper,
Ink filled raindrops soak into the drought-parched soil
Where I have faith our dreams are planted and take root to blossom into being.

II.
I remember standing at the top of Griffith Observatory.
Staring at the city below instead of the planets above,
How depressing this sight is
That they call Los Angeles the City of Stars
Because we are cold and apart from each light shining below
Many are fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, documented, undocumented persons
Whom we forget are toiling at night for people who can enjoy fine dining on nights such as these
These luminous point map out those who are not resting with their loved ones
My heart is aching for these incandescent bodies devoid of warmth