Moon

Light shining, or dimly lit,

The dark side of porcelain skin,

proves the distances still unmet--

so let us dance in the moonlit night.

Heartless words and hateful eyes,

provide, for a single time,

a glimmer,

a hope,

a window of opportune moments

too poignant to wish

ourselves proper goodbyes.

Behold, we are not who we thought.

Do you mock me, moon, glaring with your patient glow,

a pristine shine biding time, because too late do I realize

who really has been in tears,

who really has been the one,

crying,

inside.

Know, we are not who we thought.

And time mends these sutures-- time,

so easily used as answer to incessant 'whys.'

But bygones never stay bygones;

not those built upon counterfeit truths.

No, we are not who we thought.

Traveler

Hey there, Traveler,

why is your heart so downcast?

Didn't anyone tell you?

It's time to come home now.

Do not fret,

when you stumble on the path.

Your friend will steady you on.

Soon you can lay your burdens down.

So put your sorrows behind you.

Put your sorrows behind you.

Focus on the road ahead.

You are so close to the end.

Just press on towards the goal.

Keep your eyes on the light leads the way.

Soon you can lay your burdens down.

So put your sorrows behind you.

Put your sorrows behind you.

~MD

Murderer

We all tend to give

more than we should

for a stab in the back.

But why do most of us roll over,

so they can take aim at our chests?

* * *

Love is a murderer;

And a ruthless bitch.

Though on its good days

all is forgiven in bliss.

Don't force it-- don't even try.

But, in the moment,

live love, alive.

Fruit Basket

Looking curiously,

I peer inside

the basket to which I find

more than I had hoped for.

A lemon, here.

Bright and exciting

on the outside.

Though beyond that is a bitterness

not easily forgotten.

Something's not quite right--

how it conflicts with itself.

An apple, there.

Look at that red!

Such hot energy;

power a few could tame

and a few too many want.

It is no exception to itself

after a few bites.

See how it lays, rotten--

a justified end to one so lustful.

A coconut, in the corner.

I turn away from its unappealing nature

wishing it was more;

yet who's to judge

its musky mask?

Give it some time,

for there is beauty within,

a gem too rare for shallow taste.

Stepping backward,

(or perhaps in time)

I remember why

I hold this liquor in the first place.

Let's not fool ourselves

to hold on to non-sequiturs.

Though you can always find

just a few of us,

like grapes, crushed,

at the bottom of a fruit basket.

Ja Ne, May.

Don't do it.

Scattered, while it seems to be real,

you know it to be as it is--

heart rendering,

an inevitable torment,

a love unsound,

unsatisfactory,

unloved.

Do you feel, or do you weep?

For weeping is a tragedy,

a love unsound,

foreseen by the sadness.

You grieve…do you not?

And

Who are you? What are you?

Where do you exist, and when do I find you?

"Oh, I'm here and there. Everywhere, no?"

Maybe. But the older we get, the harder it is to find. So live, and laugh, for now.

Black and White

Dear Black,

It has come to my attention that you show-- with exaggerated distress-- signs of emotional inconsistency. Do pardon, but understand it may be in your best interest to calm those tides.

Dear White,

Fuck you.

-------------

And that's the story of the human psyche.