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Pull of GravitySubmit to the slow pull of gravity. Relax your muscles and close your eyes. For time isn't to be treated with levity.Pull of Gravity
Days pass, bringing both hope and tragedy. One flower opens and another dies. Submit to the slow pull of gravity.
They say, in life, one cannot be greedy. Because it's not a game; there is no prize. And time isn't to be treated with levity.
But you have never had the ability To surrender with nothing more than soft sighs You won't submit to the slow pull of gravity.
You regard death with animosity. Instead of falling, you
by ~pandapline
Down the Streets of VietnamMother does not let me wander Down the streets of Vietnam. She sends cook to buy us food And sniffs derisively at the street fools.Down the Streets of Vietnam
But sometimes I catch a glimpse Of the streets of Vietnam From inside my family car On my way to school.
Once my grandmother took me Through the streets of Vietnam. We saw headless chickens As we walked through the dirt.
And young men whistled as I, In the streets of Vietnam, Blushed and stuttered like an idiot While my grandmother smirked.
But mother yelled, "You mustn’t go Near
by ~pandapline
Childhood in a momentThe Vietnamese sun beats down on the trees. It plays its part in ripening the bananas. Underneath the shade in the cool, cool mud, Laughing and smiling, plays a girl. She grins and holds the hand of her sister; Together, they reenact history.Childhood in a moment
They choose stories of glory from their nation’s history, Hiding themselves and jumping between the trees. The despotic emperor is played by the sister. Her mischievous smile stretches wide like the bananas. To counter, the valiant rebel is played by the girl Who slips clumsily as both dash through the slick mud.
T
by ~pandapline
untitledTwo. Section 9.1, problems one through fifty-three, every other odd. Three. Prepare an oral on the life of Camille Claudel. Four. Secontion 3.5. Take notes. Five. You give up. It is 11:02 P.M., and she is on your mind. Should you call? Should you try to— Stop. Work. Eat dinner But taste regret instead of chicken and rice. Sing aloud—whistle while you work— Try to drown out the screaming, the ache, the need to just apologize and be done. Sorry. You’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry. Easy in your mind, but your mouth plugs up. &nuntitled
by ~pandapline
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We’re not at the end but oh we already won
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Al desprecio
le encanta el silencio
Crece en la oscuridad.
Pues entonces, cállate
____
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~c.c.~
Love: BS
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