poetry, now!

Part poetry, part stream of consciousness, full credit goes to my muse and inspiration Timothy "BigBrothaaa" Cheung



Sometimes, the world is just too much. there's too many emotions wrapped up in a single smile for me to respond quickly enough to a stranger's face seen in passing
there are too many memories to be made, too many picture snapshots of time that I should save in my mind but I always seem to find that I just don't have enough memory for all of them.
too many people to hold onto and too many to miss while they're not around

and i've been told that i'm just not letting go yet
and you know what? you're damn right.
I'll hold on to everything that I can
I'll grip all the depression and self doubting thoughts that I can, squeeze them out and deprive them of any air so that they can silently die and no longer wreak havoc on the sunshine spots of souls that surround me
I'll cradle joy in my fingertips, play happiness like the piano, tinkling and trilling keys that my hands flow across, always racing each other for an audible finish line, and watching the room of stagnant legs turn into a jellyfish tentacles that are unable to stop moving
I'll backhand any unruly thoughts that creep into my mind, trying to tell me that I can't or that I shouldn't. I'll leave them with stinging sharp welts that remind them they were never welcome in the first place, and they'll know what's waiting for them if they ever decide to come back.

These are just results from some of the lessons I've learned from unexpected teachers that have the tendency to appear when I want them the least. I am the universe's perpetual student, model, and artist
I have learned that if you always look down, the only butterflies you will see will have already died. You will never get the chance to watch them float like brightly colored scraps of silk in between leaves that wave me to them like welcome mats to the sky, to the tips of endless possibilities
and my own grandmother has become a swallowtail butterfly, so I really shouldn't miss any chances I get to see her again
still dancing, always dancing, only this time with wings instead of feet
but she still has so much grace and such a comforting presence.

I've been told that I'm a teacher to some
but that's not enough- I want to be a professor in the how's and the why's of this world
I want to answer the unanswerable questions by listening to my heartbeat thump out a rhythm like a metronome
translating it to music notes trapped between thick black lines
and then letting my fingers fly across a piano, singing you to sleep with a blanket of absolute truths and trust in the future
and we'll both curl up when the moon is reflected in the puddles of the streets
and dream about our different tomorrows that may not be so different after all.