a little note of what cancer has taught me...

once, i thought she was my number one enemy
i hated her and tried to toss her on fire
(the sensation of torturing her with knife, fire, and trampled on her body was kind of  multiple orgasms)

now i realize she is my teacher
my exclusive private maha guru
she's been teaching me a lot this past two years

she's opened my eyes though i could see nothing but darkness...
though most of the time i find it hard
to say that God's sitting right beside me, supporting me...

she's taught me not to force Him
to appear in my clouds.
heavy storms, thunderous rain, dark nights and my dumb stupidity
all work together blocking His Throne
for me to reach.
but she let me sense the Glorious Throne even when all the tiny hopes i've built
have never become a majestic  shape
of reality..

most of all she teaches me
to believe beyond what i see

my understandings will never suffice
but thank to her
who teaches me more to feel
not the unbearable pain in my body
and mind,
but the mighty hands are working beyond things i can comprehend...

humbly i'd say,
for me, physical recovery isn't the only proof of His promises that i seek

what matter most is, i know everything will turn out to be ok in the end... even if the world won't compell...

thanks to you ms. CA

#cancerpoetry

18 not yet 19

faster than her peers
crossing this angry river had never been easier
yet her feet were stronger than any spears

she finished her courses earlier
leaving all fighters struggling with their papers
but she did it well
though this world didn't compel
she submitted the test's papers with a smile

'fear not' she said
'hold the Words and we wouldn't be misled'
'we need not walk under the shade'
'hold your head up as we were in a parade'

she's only 18 not yet 19
she's finished the end of the line
ascended the ultimate throne
though she's only 18 not yet 19

till we meet again, friend...

poci

me is poci, white and spikey
i love to eat, i love to sleep
i wonder how to eat while i sleep
but when i sleep,
i'll be the cutest spikey cacty
don't ever touch me when i sleep
i detest that kind of deed

i'm officially a silver pigmy hedghy
i'll make you happy and jolly
only if you let me
be as "poci" as i wanna be

10 pm coffee

the smell of the roasted beans
awaken the folded memory in my brain

the time when i dipped my poetry in my coffee
hot and strong
like an old bitter song

there ....
at the corner of the 24 hour cafe 

"does it ring you a bell?"

the time when i sliced all the stanzas
in to pieces of crumbly tears
glitterly clear

and you just sat with a glass of cold beer

you thought your shadow had ears
you thought it listened to your darkest fear

and the night wind presented her fiercest laughter..

i hope you still remember
or do you need a shinny dagger
to open the worst chapter
of this poetry dipped in  my coffee...

another poem for you

(i hope this too, tells her your blue)

i try not to detest not even to protest
but when the world puts me in stress
and she is the greatest source of all the distress
what shall i do to release this mess?
may i confess ?
the mistress quality of her beauty
sweet lips playing is her best
yet i still try not to detest

Lord please... put her to rest...

a poem for a friend

i hope i represent your mind....
😣😣

once i knew her as the moon

a preaching moon is she
teaches the world to be
as good as you can be

she shares the beam
so people would see
the right way to walk in holy

Lord why for me
the beam hurts me so badly
tearing my heart till i can't see
the beauty of the moon
who teaches & preaches intensively

Lord help me
to live my life in glee
out of the darkest beam
to have my greatest dream
walking on the cloud of sweet cream..

Lord forgive me
for i see the moon as the meanest foe
tortures my life turns me to blue

Lord let me free
i believe this isn't supposed to be my woe

i can-cer-vive

through the valley of darkness
where the dark shadows melted in the air
and the black clouds pretend to be harmless
she finds her soul so debonair

nothing could dim the sparkle from her heart
not even a threatening angel of death
she knows she's no immortal
yet she believes; to her creator she's special

she whispers in the ear of every stranger
she tells  her loved ones loud and clear
"i am the apple to His eye and
i can-cer-vive"

when hope is swallowed by the dust
what to hold but promises that forever last
when the wicked comes to eat up her flesh
she's  rescued and let to rest

because He who makes the clouds His chariot never forsaken her
she shall abide under the shadow of The Almighty
under His wings she shall take refuge

she can-cer-vive ...
because her Father listens to her prayers

#cancerpoetry

12/31/2015

'tis the time to have a party
beneath the white clouds soft and fluffy
let's celebrate our victory
for a year full of glee

what a wonderful life from Thee
i have no regrets for all that happened to me
for Thy present is sufficient
everything is in Thy hands, nothing is coincidence 

i thank Thee for the love that abundant
Thy turned me into a triumphant
my life is Thy painting, the magnificent
beautiful flowers in Thy garden
thank you for making me one of them

i am happy to close the last chapter 
of this year
and am ready for the grand chapters
of the coming years

no room for fears
for His helping hands are real
thank you my Saviour

mount poetes' unanswered quests

at the foot of mount poetes
a fierce beast asleep in the bed of quests

with a murder of crows as its accomplices
they peck all the answers and throw it in the sky as they please

some - found falling in the valley
most - hidden in the secret alley

mount poetes lost her poetry
all chewed by the monster of fiercest fairy

priest and monk busy meditate
collecting broken puzzles at memory's gate
in hope to find a clear tractate
be preached at the solemn obsequies
as mournful ventriloquists

and the beast remains asleep
under the thick quilt of creeps
spreading terror in his sleep
with heaps of questions turned into nasty quips