Friday, January 4, 2019

                     Thế giới Thơ của Thiên Thanh.

     The moon shares my secrets
     drops its crescent blood
     on my calloused hands
     as I dig and dig away
     Shall I ponder
     that six feet under,
     a soul is awake,
     floating in Death’s rivers,
     along with dreams
     that could not and could have been ?
     There, the Devil may laugh
     and I may weep, but
     neither prayer nor grave
     can keep them from drowning.


      It’s hearbreaking,
      isn’t it?
      These phony romantics
      who love
      without actually loving.
      And it’s tearing my soul
      they don’t make it
      like this anymore:
      just heart- to- heart,
      real and raw and right
      to the bone

      Now, it’s just
      one- night emotions that
      fade away
      and midnight kisses that
      melt with the sunrine.
     ( maybe I’m wrong.)
      ( maybe they never made it
      this way to begin with.)

      After a while,
      I let it consume me,
      fickle into ashes
      of the forgotten dreams
      and the vanished hopes…
        But I realized
        they were already
         a part of me,
      And the fire only buried
      them deeper,
      into the abyss of
      my very heart and soul.

        We are romatics
        living in a world
        that cannot hold romantics.
        so we hide eternity in
        the secret corners of our tongues
        hoping only one day to spill it out.

                       Your love is my comfort
                       Your words are my muse
                       can't you see ?
                       You. You are my poetry.

               This is our sweet lovely granddaughter

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