Bukowski

Once upon a
time, there was a
girl who was crazy
about Charles Bukowski.

she read his
novels, she read tons
of his poems,
she read him
until she
was set free
from worries, stresses,
and trivialities
of life.

his carefree attitude,
his brutal honesty
showing our bare souls,
our shortcomings,
our fierce desires,
the dark side of
our hearts
set her
free
set her
free.

Happy 98th birthday, Charles Bukowski.

A Poem for My Mother 2018

Another Mother’s day
And I thought I would run out of
things to say to you
then I realized words
can never fully express my affections,
my love, and my gratitude for you.

You’re always there for me
listening to all my happiness,
my whining, and my complaints.

As I grow and better myself
exploring a new career path
learning a new philosophy
we exchange thoughts,
share plans and ideas.

I’m so happy you’re on the journey with me
navigating all the paths and detours
celebrating all the milestones

I hope I will give you
the dream home we’ve been dreaming of
filled with pure thoughts and enlightened words
detached from impurities
that are abundant in life

You’re the most beautiful flower of all flowers
the brightest sun of all suns
the sweetest word of all words
the purest drop of morning dew

Happy mother’s day
To my mom and all the mothers
Of the past, the present, and the future

Dream On

Closed until further notice
Says the disappointing sign in front of the brilliant park
at the end of the narrow road in the woods

The breathtaking red and yellow leaves
scattered alongside the waterfalls last Autumn
are glowing vividly in my memory

To what use could I put words I’ve been hunting for
when life’s erosion of feelings and inspiration
seems like just a matter of time
like the faded fall foliage in the forest

Dream on
Dream on

Fear

This Summer the pear tree bears no fruit
The lemons don’t seem to be wiling to ripe
And the lakes are all dried up

You told me the things I wanted to hear
but did not initiate any change to that
My words fell into the void

Haunted by the dreaded future,
I heard my screams floating in the air
And the wind carried my fear to infinity

Fragments of Lives

Fragments of lives scattering in the air
Blown into my soul one brisk
Spring morning in the park
The old verses written over ten years past
Still flickered in my heart

*******

Những mảnh đời vắt ngang không trung
Một hôm theo cơn gió thổi hắt vào lòng ta
Một sáng cuối xuân trời hiu hiu lạnh
Những vần thơ xưa viết hơn mươi năm trước
Vẫn âm ỉ trong lòng