Grow With Me

For the zero people who actually read this blog, I am sure you think I am rather depressing. I think I normally write when I'm sad because I don't want to bundle up all my thoughts and feelings and throw them at someone unexpectedly. That wouldn't be very nice! Although my poems depict a sorrowful soul, I'm one happy (hairless) cat. And I do mean hairless because I'm bald now. I still have no idea what I want to do with my life or how I am going to change the world, but I have a hell of a lot of nice people around me and that suits me just fine for now. College has made a new woman out of me. Uh, wait, no... college has made a new girl out of me. I'm not yet a woman regardless of the fact that I'll be 21 in a few months. I've grown from an elementary school bully to someone who feels sick if she doesn't feed the homeless daily. And I think this world has grown with me. Well, maybe it has. Maybe I've just seen it in a new light. I mean look how beautiful this world is. I mean it! Step outside right now and look at those stars. And if you're in Japan, let the sun take your breath away. I'm telling you this world is stunning. If it were a person, I'd jump it's bones. It's one heck of a place. And we need to appreciate it. We need to love it and give it our loving. The Earth, its people, and its earth have created this civilization for us, and it's only polite to return the favor. I know we're all busy, but doing something once a week to help this masterpiece on which we have been graciously painted will not cramp our schedules any more than our weekly Netflix breaks. All of Earth is fighting for two things: happiness and life. Create a little happiness; save a few lives. You'll be happy you did it. And if you're happy, I'm happy. And we all know that this blog needs a little bit more joy! So let's take a minute to grow together and help some homies.

Ayo, time. Chill.

Time, you need to slow down
Stop pulling my leg
Stop fooling around

Repeat

Smile with your eyes.
Smile with your mouth.
Smile with your heart.

Repeat.

Thank God it didn't happen to me

Thank God it didn't happen to me.
Thank God I can still breathe--
Exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale.
Thank God I can still sail the seas.
Thank God I can still see falling leaves
And feel the anger of the rushing breeze.
Oh, thank God it didn't happen to me.

Thank God it happened to them?

Curiosity killed the cat.

Curiosity killed the cat
And love killed me.

But a cow can't change his spots!

So I've got to find my feet
Before I let these thoughts
Take me out to sea.

Who am I really?!?!?!

Who am I really—they say I could be one of those holometabolous insects, a free-floating butterfly to be exact, not one of those clothes-eating and therefore teenage-girl-life-ruiners called the moths, but as I said they say I could be one of those butterflies, one of those creatures who starts out as a rough and rocky egg that gets juices all over me to turn me into a rather ugly larva, so ugly that I’d never get a boyfriend with all of those legs and foul-smelling chemicals I produce, but then there isn’t really too much of a worry because as they say I could be one of those butterflies, so after the larva I’d turn into the actual butterfly…well afterwards I'd be a poopa or pupa or whatever they seem to call them…and I’d get pooped out of my poopa phase as I’d transform into the stunning butterfly, a sexually mature adult, so sexually mature that all the papa butterflies would flap their wings up and down and up and down and come a-flyin’ over to my neck of the woods to have some good fun, as they would marvel at my rainbow-like colors, but it is too bad that I wouldn’t have gold at the end of me because that would surely cause the papa butterflies to want to find some lucky charms, but nevertheless, it is better to look like a rainbow than be a rainbow because having a leprechaun at my rear-end could get really awkward really quickly, and so instead they say I could be a rainbow-colored butterfly; but they also say I could be a clock, always having the time but never looking at it myself because my eyes would be busy peeping through the six and eight holes, and yes my eyes would be a little lopsided this way but it’s good to see things in a different way, and because eight is the lucky number in China I would get along quite well with the dragons and fortune cookies and of course Hu Jin Tao, or more properly-written 胡锦涛, the Chinese emperor of our time, who people really shouldn’t make fun of for having four eyes because I would only have two eyes in awkward places on my clock face, and really I wouldn’t have a body, but who really needs a body nowadays anyway, as batteries would run my thoughts and my ticking and tocking, or really my native tongue which I’d speak to all those who came by, and at certain times I’d even tick a little louder and tock a little harder so that people could hear the time of day, but hearing myself say all this is making me think that what they say about me possibly being a clock is foolish, and the truth rather comes from the fact that they say I could be broccoli, even though I don’t like broccoli very much, but they say I could be broccoli because all people could eat me even if they were those good-for-nothing vegans or vegetarians who don’t eat the heavenly stomachs from cows in beef or the horse-hooves from horses in gelatin, but they could eat Oreos, even Oreos, because yes, indeed, Oreos are vegan, but they say I could be broccoli, not Oreos, because I’d be healthy for you too, and I’d go into your mouth, jump on the seats of your teeth and watch the movie screen on your tonsils until you chewed me up and swallowed me down, and I’d hope you swallow me and not spit me out because I’d be good for you and I’d bring some Vitamin C, forget Sunny D, to you, but not only that, I’d also bring beauty to you because what is more beautiful than that which looks like a tree, the strongest and bravest being on planet Earth which brings food and air to butterflies and clocks and to you and me, and this beauty would bring beauty into your life and you’d smile and laugh and that’s how I’d be if I were broccoli like they say I could be.

You to me are but an ant to a bee.

You to me are but an ant to a bee.

No bee can use an ant as feed,

Or to build a honeycomb in a tree;

He is not the bee’s ideal employee.

The bee would rather be alone, you see?

The ant is fine with his own company.

He too does not care for the bee,

An athlete with whom he must compete.

It is true they must share the trees,

With each other and the leaves,

The modest amount of food to eat,

The rain tumbling down their cheeks.

They must share the world it seems

With each other and all that breathe.

And if one knew the other, he could see

The ant and the bee fight mutually.

Each one is simply trying to breathe.

Despite who we may be, an ant or a bee,

It is time to open our eyes and see

We are in this together, you and me.

我愛他

不是，他不是我朋友，
不是，他不是我哥哥，
不是，他不是我男朋友，
可是 他將永遠在我的心中。

Silly Poem (Like You)

I used to make clay pots like you
Give them to my mom as gifts like you
I used to sit on the floor like you
Squeezing my knees to my chest like you
I used to cross my legs like you
Twist them like gym class ropes like you
I used to laugh at jokes like you
Even not-so-funny ones like you
I used to watch baseball like you
Awing at Wright's "talent" like you
I used to crack my knuckles like you
Push my thumb out and away like you
I used to study nonstop like you
Hide and fight the blues like you
I used to do everything like you
So I could walk and talk like you
It was because I really liked you
I was just hoping you'd like me too
But now I don't hope to be like you
Instead I only wish to be with you

Oh, what a name is Name

Oh, dearest Name, sensations remind me of him.

You see, each loving embrace is Name’s embrace.

Each taste is of his lips; each sound, his ears.

The air I breathe is the same that Name breathes.

I close my eyes, and all that comes to view is N-A-M-E

Spelt along my eyelids, a spelling I cannot forget.

Their continuance must represent my heart’s call,

My heart’s fears! From Name I cannot escape!

From dawn to dusk, Name never does stray.

Name lies within all thoughts of my congested mind.

I do fear the day Name rather lies within my sheets!

For what would life be if Name were truly here?

What I truly fear is that those sensations disappear.

I adhere to those dreams that endear Name to me,

Yet with Name not here, it will never be clear

That my love for Name is really real. 

He who dictates the first of May

He who dictates the first of May,

The dawning of the break of day,

Shall lead the days of May astray.

Time set at bay frees days' decay.

Attempt to be like DA man--Shel Silverstein

How do you say "I don't like chicken" in French?

How do you say "I don't like chicken" in French?
Oh, I can't stand its awfully wretched stench
And it does not quench my thirst to my lament
Nor does it silence my hunger as its intent
Rather it dries the throat when it needs drenched
My belly does not fill like a hole with cement
So each time it's near I clench my jaw to prevent
Eating that chicken with the awfully wretched stench


I ran home one day with a mighty big smile

I ran home one day with a mighty big smile
After running a couple of miles and miles
My smile embraced each place on my face
My teeth replaced each star in outer space
For the graceful steps I ran on the sidewalk
Unlocked some thoughts from our times en bloc
When we'd run and dance and play and sing
I hoped one day that you'd give me a ring
And then you did! You gave me a shiny thing
That thing was a ring that made me sing
Then I looked at you and you looked at me
But I said what you didn't think could be
You see, we weren't meant to be, I started
I needed to follow my heart before it departed
And then one day it might follow me to you
One day we could be stuck like super glue
Then years and years later I went on a long run
I was wrong in thinking that it would be fun
But then from across the pier you appeared
What if he is angry and hurt? I cried and feared
But you were not; you approached with a smile
Then I ran home a couple of miles and miles