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Thomas Hsi Poem
Sugar drops and colored gumballs,
An open skyline, an open convertible, and a white ragtop!
Black Perrelis, red caps, and spoked mag-frames,
Pacific Coast Highway, and her stairway to heaven!
A thousand charged horses on pure octane!
My deliverance, black rock cod, and pink champagne!
Her deliverance, Pacific Coast Highway, a stairway to heaven, and romance!
A storybook weekend, and my little red Corvette!
A white and pink plumeria flower, above the ear, and a few warm tears!
Matchbox, Hot Wheels, tracks and tracks, and Dad's Road and Track!
Boys and their silly toys, lost quarters, lost dimes, lost rhymes, and lost innocence!
Those magnificent men in their flying machines!
Liquid sunshine, Turtle Wax, Palmolive, and the softest hands!
Kid's glove leather, hands on leather, and zero to sixty in three or more!
Golden Gate Bridge lit at midnight, and Los Angeles rocking to soft jazz!
My little red Corvette, and my Mother's good sense!
An arching rainbow, a hidden valley, a tree house on Kauai!
From Grand Canyon, to Waimea Canyon, to tea with Diane Canyon!
Charley's Angels, Mae West, Some Like It Hot, from Twiggy to Marilyn Monroe!
Hey Joe DiMaggio, hey Mickey Mantle, hey Smoking Joe!
Pacific Coast Highway on any Sunday afternoon, and my choice of fresh fish!
From pink champagne, to Zinfindel, On Her Majesty's Secret Service!
Sean Connery at midnight, Mr. James Bond and a Russian scientist in love!
My little red Corvette, Hans Christian Anderson, and A Christmas Carol!
Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2017
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Thomas Hsi Poem
Here I am in the land of the endless sun,
A tropical paradise that compares to none,
From the frolicking surf to the ancient trails,
This land's full of many sacred tales.
But the story I love best,
Is the one that isn't told with the rest,
It's about how my heart's tropical retreat,
Is now ready to take second seat.
Revered are the legendary figures of old,
Whose great and mighty acts are retold,
And steeped in mystical phrases,
Are many words of love that passed through the ages.
With the refreshing of my soul, and the mending of my heart,
I'm ready now to return to love, and give it a new start,
And though I'm still miles away from you,
At the end of this journey, our love still rings true.
Half ‘way around the world, I distanced myself from you,
Leaving for an island paradise, I felt stifled and blue,
I hoped for a soft and smooth landing,
And found myself in a land of love abounding.
Revered are the legendary figures of old,
Whose great and mighty acts are retold,
And steeped in mystical phrases,
Are many words of love that passed through the ages.
With the refreshing of my soul, and the mending of my heart,
I'm ready now to return to love, and give it a new start,
And though I'm still miles away from you,
At the end of this journey, our love still rings true.
Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2017
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Thomas Hsi Poem
What if a child dreams of becoming someone other than what society had
Intended?
What if a child aspires to something greater?
What if the first light of knowledge held the seeds of unity?
What if society embraced the hope of the stars?
When a world takes the bread of one and gives to those with many, when
Injustice, inequity, intolerance, and infamy reign, the world darkens in despair.
The foundation of unity held together with the cement of understanding leads
To the budding of the hopes and dreams of every individual.
If the masts of great vessels of the oceans led to the discovery of brave new
Worlds, and if the winds of time held the keys to the fruition of those very
Hopes and dreams, then unity cloaked in the safety of each child would lead to
The discovery within and without. The power of the stars would be in the veins
Of society.
The quest for freedom begins with the heart of man. The enslavement of ideas
And peoples shackle the progress towards liberty. The road to freedom can be
Formed by the commonality of humanity. We hold these truths to be self-
Evident, that every man is created equally with life, liberty, and the pursuit of
Happiness.
[What if Superman gave an address to the United Nations?]
THERE IS BUT ONE GOD WHO WATCHES FROM HEAVEN
Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2017
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Thomas Hsi Poem
My birthright are the emerald islands in the sparkling
Waters of the Pacific Ocean,
With the beckoning sun, the cresting waves, and the jeweled sands,
A paradise in the lore of sailors far and wide,
A land of aloha and a land of mystery,
I am of mixed ancestry from the land of Ireland,
The lands of Asia, to the land of the American Indians,
My beauty is statuesque as the pinnacles of the Napali Coast,
And my auburn hair waves like the fauna against the gentle winds,
My russet eyes are set wonderfully against my bronzed skin,
The soft scent of my tropical aura mixes with the sweetness of hibiscus,
I am a royal of the lands of Hawaii,
But nations and peoples have warred for my inheritance,
My land is no longer sacred, and my soul is cheapened for bartering,
In your world I am nothing more than a minority,
And so it is I will remain in my world, in a land which I find mystical
And lovely!
Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2017
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Thomas Hsi Poem
Bourbon street and candy canes two unicorns in disguise,
Nickels for an easy dime,
And a quarter for a rhyme.
Shooting stars and colored moons aces to the heart,
A world through rose tinted glasses,
And dreams left standing gone from the masses.
Take the day out of night and the night out of day,
A different drummer a different song,
And the one-armed bandit takes what's wrong.
A cloak and dagger game of men and mice,
Every bait and switch of hand,
And the piper leads to the promised land.
Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2017
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Thomas Hsi Poem
A lonely soldier,
A bloody red battlefield,
The misting rain falls.
HAIKU
Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2017
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Thomas Hsi Poem
What I see is a reflection of what the universe has wrought,
Amidst the stardust and the starlight an image of space,
Dark and cold, voiceless and void,
Tempered with time the vanity has dimmed,
The excellence gone,
A window to the soul or a window to the seasons of life,
The pane holds the tears which roll as a winter’s rain,
Mirror, mirror on the wall who is the fairest one of all?
Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2017
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Thomas Hsi Poem
Been traveling through this old world,
And I've picked up my pass,
To the oldest game on earth,
Where my luck won't run dry.
And it's been a lesson forged in sorrow,
A heartache of hits with every card of the draw.
And I'm playing it close to my vest,
This hellish game is my test,
For there's never a tomorrow that can't come today,
When your heart has no sorrow and you're settled either way.
A secret close to my vest,
Close to my vest.
And I'm a stranger to no one,
But a mystery to all,
I've weathered through each season,
To every cadence of fall.
And it's been an empty chord in solo,
A heartache of notes saying nothing at all.
And I'm playing it close to my vest,
This hellish game is my test,
For there's never a tomorrow that can't come today,
When your heart has no sorrow and you're settled either way.
A secret close to my vest,
Close to my vest.
(Bridge)
Behind every light and shadow passing my way,
Are another's teardrops finding the way.
A secret close to my vest,
Close to my vest.
(Lyrics to a song I wrote and recorded onto a CD)
Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2017
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Thomas Hsi Poem
A cobbled path winding lazily through a forest of emerald greens,
Streaks of sunlight bursting past the canopy of birch wood limbs,
An aromatic scent lingering between each wooded mile,
Lost in time, I knew that I had come home.
A grey-thatched hut with pillars of timber and earthen floor,
Stoked hard flames crackling fast and warming the potted hearth,
A sweet melodic song from the parted lips of a sylvan lass,
Lost in time, I knew that I had come home.
Like a pair of lambskin mittens against wintered hands,
Like an embrace of angelic wings folded against waiting arms,
Like a scented kiss feeding a hungered soul from deep within,
Lost in time, I knew that I had come home.
Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2017
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Thomas Hsi Poem
ARE WE LIKE LITTLE FAIRIES BEFORE GOD?
If the expanse of the universe, with every created world, can fit in the palm of God’s hand, then what is a human? If the bible says that man is no more than a blade of grass, then are we in our glory no better than the lilies of the field? In a moment of revelation, King David recognized his complete insignificance before God.
The Master Potter uses his clay to mold the precious figurines which he breathes life into. Some are molded into precious jewels, while others are molded into brittle glass. Cast upon a grand tapestry, the jewels and glass form a mosaic which depicts the times and seasons of the evolution of life. Woven into this tapestry are the cords, threads, beads, and feathers of a delicate design of God’s own hand. The life of the world is a collection of stories. Stories of love, stories of hate, stories of conquest, stories of defeat, stories of sorrow, and stories of joy.
In an enchanted land, full of mystery and full of suspense, life moves with the melodies of heaven. And every little fairy has a tale of his or her own. The fairies live, they laugh, they play, they love, and at times they even hate. But fairies are fairies, and God loves his little fairies. The adornment and wings of a fairy are lovely, and he takes delight in his magnificent design.
At the end of a lifetime in the enchanted forest, the little fairies tire of the dew and honeysuckle, the lilac and the rose, and the gentle wind and rain. One day, the lovely fairies die. In what was once a glorious and magnificent flight into the soft azure skies, with their wings alighting atop the thatched roofs of their humble homes, each little fairy folds his or her wings. And forever, in an alabaster jar the memories of each fairy is kept for time immemorial. And so, goodnight sweet fairy for your tale has been told, and it is time to sleep.
Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2017
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