Cinquain Poetry - Where Am I?

The cloud

Capricious, portable

Flying, staying, falling

Looking for the next stop.

Amnesia.

.

.

.

.

A baby giraffe

Naïve, destined

Crashing, strengthening, staggering.

Where is my mommy?

Overwhelming.

photograph: pierluigi.ricci

the Conversation between My Parents and I

My Father and I

I: " How do you know I am here? "
He: " Because I know everything. "

I: " Why can't you keep the promise you made before. "
He: " OK, I'll, let's go home. "

I: " Father, should I make this decision? "
He: " I don't know, but you should have much responsibility after you make the decision. "

My Mother and I

I: "Are you afraid of ghosts?"
She: "Yes, I am."

I: "Are you afraid of mice?"
She: "Yes, I was, but after I had you, I am not."

I: "Do you support me in everthing?"
She: "Yes, of course I do. "

I

I: " I believe my family and friends to make me stronger. "
I: " I believe I should work harder now. "
I: " I believe my family will be proud of me in the future. "

Cinquain Poetry - GT Library

Aquarium

Well-organized, artificial

Consuming, digesting, producing

Talking to yourself, working by yourself.

Individualism.

photograph:Next Action-Aki

Cinquain Poetry - Streets in Taipei

Electricity

One-way, no U turn

Mixing, heading, blinding

I hope I were in the flow.

Solitary.

Happy Valentine's Day 2011

LOVE

Magnetic, inflammable

Landing, penetrating, merging

Melting cheese suddenly on a piece of roasted toast.

Stickiness.

photograph: Nicole.

Litany I - You

You are the moon and the shade,

and the fox and the track.

You are the wind shaking the tree house

and the wet merging into the window.

You are the cactus and its striking red flower

and the thorn suddenly out of the stalk.

However, you are not the reflection of the sun,

the bubbles along side the shell,

or the juice in the coconut.

And you are certainly not the escalating salty vapor.

There is no way you are the escalating salty vapor.

It is possible that you are the only fireflies beside the river,

maybe even the last star in the dawn,

but you are not even close

to being the sound of sparks in the burning fire wood.

And a quick look in the mirror will show

That you are neither the lion in the grasslands

nor the lion in the withering castle.

It might interest you to know,

speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,

that I am the rose on another unknown planet.

I also happen to be the cloud turning into grey,

the bird forgetting the lost feather,

and the waving light under the vibrant leaves.

I am also the echo from the valley,

and the branch fading in the end.

But don’t  worry, I am not the moon and the shade.

You are still the moon and the shade.

You are always the moon and the shade.

not to mention the fox and – somehow– the track.

Photograph: Zjim

Poem I - Faith

Faith

Faith flies across the ocean to an evergreen island,

Spreads bonbons from his shady foggy pocket,

Quietly, melting into her heart.

Photograph: Caitlin Lois