Splitting
Nothing is
A task for
A word
To make sense
Of it all..
More words
Assist on a
Task without end..
By Phan Tan Hai
Writing poems endlessly—my hands grow tired,
so I sit down to rest my feet.
White clouds return to the doorway;
we remember each other, a few tender bonds.
Dust settles upon the page,
blurring last night’s ink.
Lifting the pen, I want to weep—
the homeland’s story lies far away.
Seeing clearly the shore of birth and death,
one day I suddenly wish to lie down;
seeing, hearing the joy of stillness—
Being and Non-being both are mind.
Split open the poet’s heart—
in the Lý–Tr?n age, flowers rained from the sky.
This realm feels strangely distant,
mountains and rivers cold along the far road.
— For the birthday of poet Nguyen Luong Vy
plink, plink, water in the sink
sinks slowly into budding suds
torturing the pans and fork tines
who want cascade - show on the road
plink, plop, hands over ears, now stop
but slowly the spatter of drops
like the slow go of a rain storm
keep habitating, repeating
their ear-splitting, liver-bellied
bullying of the spoons and cups
the apron-covered giant turned
off the faucet, threw in the rag,
then the sponge, ew…her hands with gloves
now each piece, that is us, is scrubbed
and ah, true running water-rush
each of us towel dried, put ‘way
from nightmarish brutality
we rest…we rest..until lipstick
lands on the side of grinds in cup
and pan slams onto surface heat
in other words, we get beaten
then comes water in sink, awaken
the bully who sleeps eight hours
look forward to vacation, hers!
You go to bed unhappy,
in a separate room I also am unhappy.
Neither of us know why.
We worry too much
about each other's unhappiness.
Maybe we should talk less,
unhappiness always starts as a word
in our heads.
The White Rabbit while all was in bed
Snuck in the back and ate all the bread
He thought it was funny
This silly white bunny
Till the Red Queen said...OFF WITH HIS HEAD!
I operate in abundance of extremes,
Flirtish to skittish; kind-hearted to mean
I am a tolerant bigot or a emotional stoic
Yet everyone around me don’t even know it
The tug-o-war of conflicting interests
Both teams in an endless contest
To control my fast twitch reflex
Of my best defence; verbal offence.
Shutting people down from entering my mind
When I see the pity form their beady eyes
I don’t know if it’s pride or loathing
When my tongue cuts words foreboding
the demise and destruction of myself and others
But I move forward for my mother and brothers
And with the numbers of loved ones that every day grows
I need not fret of ever being left alone.
A little dance around Stonehenge
As KCIII plots his revenge
No longer ignored
The King hones his sword
Heads will roll as pseudo friends cringe
KCIII's new horrorscope reads:
"Guess what? Today, William succeeds!
The stars explain
Your drop of reign
You plotted revenge but not deeds!"
She sits by the edge of the sea
Let the sea water inundates the shore and her legs
Cold and brushing
Heart splitting
As they are defrosted tears from the past
Only loneliness remains
Still looking out the sea for a happy return
But love lost in the sea will never be found
Listen
The sea is telling the truth
Up and down, up and down
Flush flush flush
Whatever is gone, is gone forever
Two rabbits will always make haste
One minute is too long to waste
Each split-second counts
So he quickly mounts
The chaste are chased by the two-faced
The skyway is clear,
So is the well-paved runway,
The airplane takes off.
Splitting Hairs
David J Walker
If you only knew
How often
I do just that
Splitting hairs to enter
Another dimension
Leaving me both here
And there, driving the streets
Of abstract convention
Where traffic lights are blue
And the tomorrows are
No longer new and are known
For abstruse pretention
Everyone seems to know my name
When they think they see me in
This other form
And then I’m gone again
In the split of a thoughts
Distension
Splitting Hairs
David J Walker
If you only knew
How often
I do just that
Splitting hairs to enter
Another dimension
Leaving me both here
And there, driving the streets
Of abstract convention
Where traffic lights are blue
And the tomorrows are
No longer new and are known
For abstruse pretention
Everyone seems to know my name
When they think they see me in
This other form
And then I’m gone again
In the split of a thoughts
Distension
When friends share a restaurant meal
Who eats what is not a big deal
For the bill will be split
Though I have to admit
That some awkwardness this could reveal.
A group member might simply declare
He or she finds his portion unfair
‘Cause she ate so much less
That it gives her distress
To contribute a similar share.
It’s a problem one rarely expects
When the dining group often connects
Since there isn’t a doubt
Time will even things out
Or perhaps what they need’s separate checks!
Splitting up the family
Takes a bunch of thought
She grabs his favorite picture
As she leaves with a big pot.
He stuffs her grandma’s quilt
In the bottom of a bag of smelly shoes.
Splitting up the family
Makes everybody lose.
I think I better leave right now
Before I say something stupid
Like only a boy in love would
And if this is our parting shot
Let it not be lost in sentimentality
I am sure you agree
We can drop the formalities
We know each other far to well
To pretend
We do not know each other's foibles
And pressure point's
Otherwise we could overcome
This impasse we fall before
All the while knowing
Sooner or later we will ramp up the rhetoric of abuse
Until 1 of us gives in
And neither of us can remember
Why on earth we shared a bed together
Maybe I loved you to much
To try and patch things up
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