“An Urquhart melody”

I broke into that house on the cliff,
overlooking the sea.
In a corner of a grey room,
stood sad and shaky
a broken solo grand piano!
The dye was chipped
and some keys were flawed.
I sat on the stool and waited.
Listening to the wind
singing, through the open windows.
I played one chord, and another
some majors, yet
minors sounded just like
those ones I hear,
when I lay down
my head on your heart.
I composed a song, before I left
that pretty house on the cliff
about to fall into the sea.
A song I called,by your name.
The only part I do remember
is probably the bluesy melody.



at first sight I could resisted
the moist fat between
my shaky fingers excited
let it down in pan clean

to my ears
the crispy melody
as kids sneer
make me happy

then, boom
that perfect smell
balmy the room
my mouth drip shrapnel

the perfect burning color skin
balance of fat and crisp
salty are my lips
one bite, ecstasy begin

“Grain of fire”

I wanna be grain of sand beach
to rub and tickle your feet,
and on you
Getting lost and stuck
between your skin fold and clothes

I wanna a be one of your tears
for slowly cuddling your cheek
touching your lips
then being lick
and in you,

I wanna be sea breeze
then with your hair,
dancing in the air
all your skin,discreetly kissing
deep inside your lung
and in you

I wanna be solar flare
for everyday, you want
I warmed and
embrace you
with ardor and fire
while you looking high, and smile.

“the best unknown day of my life”(your birthday)

Twenty seven years ago
at this same day,
I was just a young boy
listening “kiss” by Prince
in my yellow radio,
probably running and playing
in field or meadow
innocently and freely.
Not knowing somewhere
miles away,
the love of my life
for her first time,
saw the light of the day.
Bringing to this world
One of kind
graceful and complete
For many years
with the gap
you and I,
from age and space,
meeting us
was pending,
till now.
fortuitously together
right here
right now,

“From Frost to spring”

Scratch and scratch your window.
The northern wind still blow
No mercy for your hair,
shameless, bring you sorrow.

Bitten by frozen air,
no sign of solar flare
to warm you up today,
wishing to go nowhere.

Traffic, it’s the same play.
Running late, making your way.
Wake up, working, sleeping,
for that thing call money.

Soon we will see the spring
where buds, flowers blooming.
Bringing smiles and skirts flow,
you under trees, reading.

“tumbled words”

I travel to learn words,

the ones you blowed high

yesterday, every day.

I stand to

and look for,

awfully loving


Those ones howling

inside and out

of you.


nothings seem to work;

backspace on my lips,

cradle at my feet.

The parts of you

I can’t see,

are far the ones

who wants  me.