Writing

One Magical Nail

poem, choose to have a nice day 
I drive my car out there, 
  something sounds odd to my ear.
I stop to check the rare, 
  a tire so flat, 
  oh, my heavens, my dear.

My help is sleeping in peace so I might as well just leave.
Exact fare for one ride I prepare, to the bus stop I veer.

The bus driver is nice,
  he shows me where money goes as it disappears,
  I look through his fare box, 
  so that is how it works, boy, how weird.
  
The lunch crowed is now out on the street.
  I bump into a friend who's popularity could never peek.
  Good thing I am walking today,
  or her hugs would never come to me.

Must walk fast before my pass does pass.
  Is that Top Pot I see or I dream?
Despite my desire for sweets,
  I hurry, there is no time to eat.
  
A bargain for watercolor is something I seek.
  Walking into a bookstore, I think,
  there will be nothing here cheap enough for me.
  But I eat my words when I see
  a box with colors of plenty,
  for even less than a fancy coffee drink.
  
All these luck in one day,
  from one nail being stuck in my tread.

The Case of The Mysterious Cup Cakes

poem 
Came back from a nice walk,
	something hanging on the door.

A cake box in a paper bag,
	cute cup cakes rolling around inside.

Who was this from?
No name, no note, no clue!
	
From 2nd aunt? 4th aunt? Youngest aunt?
From cousin Grace or cousin Chin?

Fingers dialing numbers,
	no, was what they answered.
	
One added,
	don't all of you try it,
	one of you have to stay alive.

The case of the mysterious cup cakes,
	would a neighbor be missing them?
	
					-- written on 6/24/2008 --

Critiqued

poem 
Stained
	the paper my half written story is on.

Scented
	with butter and syrup.
	
Said
	write it better.
	
					-- written on 6/10/2008 --

Camouflage

poem, insecurity, hiding 
A photographer displaying images in her book.

A leaf that's not a leaf.
A patch of brown grass that leaps.
And lines scattered but in a group.
	They are hiding, hiding to stay alive.

A geek who is a girl.
A cheapskate who refuses fashion.
A joker who laughs at her fat.
	I am hiding, hiding to keep away from life.
	
					-- written on 5/20/2008 --

Friday

poem, haiku 
Friday, already.
	Much has been done, fun filled life.
Friday, all ready.

					-- written on 5/23/2008 --

Who I Am (A Resume)

poem, separate from the ego, inspired by "A New Earth" 
I used to think I know who I am.
I would tell people
	I am Chinese, I am a geek,
	I am a daughter, I am a sister, I am a friend,
	I am a designer, I am a writer.
But those are just things I do, positions I took, roles I was given.

I am not Chinese, I have Chinese blood.
I am not a geek, I have interests in technology and science.

I am not a daughter, my parents gave me life
	to be more than just a girl with their DNA.
I am not a sister, I learn to give and receive,
	not to only obey, not to only command.
I am not a friend, I give care and support,
	not to judge, control, and need.

I am not a designer, I organize, create, then present.
I am not a writer, I pour things on to paper with words.

Who am I? I Am.
					-- written on 5/7/2008 --

It’s Not Me

poem, ego the drunk monkey 
My words are not me.
	It's an output of my brain.
My intellect is not me.
	It's the wrinkles on my brain.
My look is not me.
	It's what I don't want to see.

On the day I get it,
	Finally, I will just be.
					-- written on 4/9/2008 --

Micro Crush

haiku, poem, crush 
Just like in the Manga,
	tall, kind, sparkling eyes.
Only he is not mine.	
					-- written on 4/9/2008 --