the poet

though you were dead

the words keep flying in mind

like feathers blowing in the wind

freely dancing  in the air

though you were dead

the stanzas still beautifully lilting

like the rhythm of water flowing

fill the cavity of empty soul

even though you were dead

you are still alive and

always be warm

in your poetry

***

– mei –

no poetry for today

there are
thousand of words sitting in head
but none willing to stand up
to be marched in verses of poetry
while
the imagination is getting tired of waiting
and it went along with a day passing
today
they were unwilling to coöperate
really disappointing
nothing could do but wait
till they meet in a mood
when?
O… so sorry
no one knows
perhaps later, … tomorrow
or
the day after tomorrow

***

– mei –

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a request to the night

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