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no where
have I found
so much sincere beauty
like in a child’s face

shot
frozen
beautiful
fearless warrior
eye to eye we meet

As submitted to InCinq.blogspot.com. First poem done on a word count second one is syllabic.

shot
fearless warrior
eye to eye
we meet
contact

I think I played with this poem for a good three days and a couple of pages in my journal. Above is the published version in InCinq.blogspot.

no freckles, no blemishes, no marks
no hair, no fat, no odd remarks
or flat heeled shoes in public

no wrinkles, no sun, no light
no skin, no smiles, no eye-to-eye
no face, no hands, no personal space in public

tattooed brows are always black
highlights used in tasteful golds
hair is thick and bold
you’re a baby doll, baby doll, always in public

the things that look like me
are minced and used as spice
integration, well defined
I frame the scar on my legs
Baby doll, baby doll, you’re just a smile away in public

The road to peace and freedom is closed.
Adorned with lily pads and frogs
jumping from lotus through dead bouquets
and ink stained poems that fall
from heartfelt tears on a bridge…
only when the day is clear

Looking to the north
they pray in wooden crosses to Christ
and shark fat to Buddha,
on the altar of sheets that the elders built.

Somewhere on the lowest point,
of a river under a closed bridge,
to a land they can’t cross,
they’re watching.
Praying that the bank would lengthen
that the river go dry
to make the road to freedom
longer than the bridge above

Nothing is lost,
Even emotions get canned in preservatives
Even the eight million dollars it took
to build the wooden plank
up on river
up on its way to freedom

But life is a chess game of compromises
and freedom towns were built
under strict military supervision.
No one can go in, only a few come out
but quickly they return through a closed bridge
back where freedom gets displayed
back on the road to freedom

If you get past the twenty thousand mines
If you can get a freedom pass
for thirty minutes or two hours
there’s an amusement park on the edge of the world
waiting for a shilling and a months rent
welcoming you to freedom

The irony doesn’t escape me…
The men in guns keep watch
with specialty patches black belt 2 inches wide
What can you do when you’ve reached that joyous ferris wheel,
the merry go round with hundreds of soft yellow bulbs
And that pretty hot pink pony with a golden saddle,
Whose mane seems to be eternally gliding in the wind
and it’s perfect white teeth smiling at you…
or laughing with you,
along the road to freedom…

Night of the jelly fish
and starry plankton
The 40 pound ghost cat fish wiggles its whiskers
and the octopus sings for me:
kiss me, kiss me, kiss me now, oh pretty baby–
I’m a guest of the wind and
wildly tamed surf that pats the brown sand down:
Welcoming party for Nari

I watch the sea worms glow
the thicker ones made into chewy noodles
with black bean ice cream curd
and fried chewy anchovies potato chips
main course is maybe chicken
with alot of rice and red paste…
I smile a lot these days

I serenade the moon with midnight moos
to match the sirens of the incoming ships
moo to the ice cream and yogurt
and the cow and the cheese…
moooooooo…
but I miss cranberry sauce the most!

That’s okay,
The moon watches over me
my inverted image on the Yellow Sea
as it does you on the Gulf of Mexico.

It’s a beautiful holiday along the board walk,
Happy Thanksgiving/Chesok!