Divinity Less

Divinity Less

why do i choose to be obscure or oblique

to gods n geniuses i only seek to speak

why does imagination could uplift me

when in reality, i sink and lay weak

why do i build emblems with my words

when iron or fire is of the mightiest lords

why can i draw Zeus' potency with my pen

and Ares' rage, with feathers of birds

with a wish, i could make the universe reborn

and mold riddles from the simplest morn

out of the dark and desolate reality, i rise

to my unreal dominion unfathomed, unworn

i could watch the storm in a perfect velvet

or feast with a painting's thousand-word banquet

what divinity do i bear in this realm

to be more like a god but less than a poet

Haiku Loco

The campfires are out
Stars and darkness sets in
Lull my eyes to sleep

—-

Flowers in yellow
Cling on green summer meadow
Burst into butterflies

I am just yours . . .

In your paradise, i am your stream
crystal clear, just a mirror for your angel face

In your garden, you picked me, your lavender,
in a string, just a day's flowery lace

In your night, i am your silver moon
just a cookie in your vast milky way

I am your toy, just a let-go park balloon

The Puzzle

Show me a puzzle now, or show me never

For what's the waiting for, it’s now or never

A cup of tea walks in place, perhaps in air

A cat in boots, perhaps a mouse in wizard’s wear

show me wonders, or hush forever

 

If it’s not the writer, then it’s you the reader

who seeks the puzzle, keener and keener

but missed the clue, passing crystalline clear

For what you read, is not what you see and hear

I show you puzzles, pieces are everywhere