321. Carousel

When age has found you,
stories woven upon skin
that once, pristine, attracted
admiration of the passerby,
now given way to diets
just to fight for a crumb
of compliment, dolled up
to not offend their sensibilities.

Give way! Make way!
to those of newer days —
let them appreciate the perks
that youth bestows, before
they too find themselves old.

Aging can be such a pain, despite some positives. Staring at pictures of who you once were and realized that the peak has passed. I laugh at the mal-adjustments; will it soon be my turn?


320. Small Talks

I just want to know
what that man now over there
preaching to his webcam
must be saying, or to who —

I just want to know
why there’s no forgetting you
though the coffee’s gone
and winds outside are brewing —

I just want to know
the honest, truthful telling,
but I myself can’t spare
a confession worth the spilling.

Every morning at work without failing: “Hey Long, how’s it going?” “Hey, great, how are you?” “Good.” Now and then inject some sports. Now and then a barking dog and food hastily eaten in the background.

319. Candy

Sweetest of words lingering on the tongue
at once beguiling, in turn treacherous,
that grazing, holds onto captivated ears
with whispers of consumption unrestrained,
the promises of sugar-coated clothing
giving way to delicate and tender.

And sugar now lingering on the lips
reflecting glints of a Sunday morning
where wafers, plain and white,
at best disguise a ceaseless craving.

What is that saying again, something about love being the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired? And then that other saying about living lives of quiet desperation. The contradiction of wanting to give in and knowing where that leads.

318. Facade

I have my preferences you see,
a dictate appealing to the eyes,
the shades or styles that I’d find
most befitting, most attractive…

But thankfully your mind
bears an image that it tenders
beyond these mainstream eyes
whose values do not matter.

The feeling of age increasingly creeps upon my consciousness. Is it good or bad?

317. Third Buzz

At some moment of a morning,
imperceptible the seconds
between dull gradients of grays
separating grasp of night
from another dawning day;

And at some moment, dazed,
did adulthood once more calls
but it’ll take a couple tries yet
beyond the first snooze’s pause.

Adulthood just saps the energy out of ya. I used to be so good with little sleep, but every passing month the night becomes increasingly antagonistic.

316. Alternatives

Did you forget me now?
Somewhere in Chicago, quiet,
musing over long-lost laughter
shared in private just between us,
rehearsing over mellowed coffee
happier endings to our story.

Life has for us other plans,
and far as endings go
how can I now begrudge
two happy, distant souls.

I’ve been humming Love Never Dies a lot lately. It’s a lovely tune despite the tragic end. That happy ending in some other world I guess.

315. Stacked

A weaker hand and smaller pot
must face its loss eventually,
though if exquisitely displayed
may still yet please the gentry,
for though the crowds bestow
the underdog with spoken favor,
the natural gambler in them know
to heap their bets upon the former.

As in the games, as is in life. I often pray for upsets, but just as vigorously prevent them when on better side. But what to do with those games, those events in life, for which the odds are so overwhelmingly stacked against us? Should we still ride out to meet them anyways?