next to nothing,
i have everything
from money to sanity
and all forms of vanity.
yet adjacent to me,
nothing.
and may some wind blow,
i'll trip and nothing, i will own.
living on this edge
that people thrive to find,
i only wish for safety
from this self-destructive world blind.
witnessing the nothing i might become,
in search for haven, won't you come?
there maybe, in your arms
perhaps an imaginary,
temporary
sanctuary.
and even in such bliss,
security is transient.
next to nothing,
i literally become nothing.
copyright 2003 mai kozai
silence is also music. {1:24 PM}
i'm elated and honored to announce the very first featured poet on my site. emmanuel cayanan, a senior attending corona high school next year, writes poetry in the late hours of the night (or early hours of the morning). he says, "when the rest of the world is sleeping, I feel much more aware of what's going on in my life. And when I'm not dealing with outside surroundings, I'm allowed to take more of an introspective view on things."
this featured poem written by him reflect what he feels from time to time. most people can relate; everyone hopes for something to live for, something to wake up to in the morning.
i personally enjoy his works because his poetry asks for quiet refinement. instead of it being a bunch of words on paper (or on a site, in this case), it literally acts as a mirror of the inner self the reader never would have noticed before. he succeeds in helping readers open up to their true self without being too demanding. a personal thank you goes out to you.
so on behalf of mr. cayanan, enjoy one of his many works. and he would love feedback-- leave a thought, e-mail me.
Solitude
He sits up with the moon at night,
And he waits for morning to arrive.
The night steals hours from him
as he stares out into the distance,
waiting for a ribbon of sunlight to materialize.
Loneliness kisses him good night,
and weariness washes over him,
pouring over his eyes
the way a tide flows over its shore.
The moon is his only companion.
Silence is his only lullaby.
Solitude is his only lover.
copyright 2003 emmanuel cayanan
(featured poet on mai kozai's poetry site)
silence is also music. {2:26 AM}
Tuesday, June 24, 2003
learning how to dance
entrancing
how your eyes dance
in the morning light
to that sweet salsa music.
so this leaves me no choice but to ask:
may i have this dance?
yes.
yes?
please forgive me,
i did not expect such answer.
now i cause the trouble
of you teaching me how to dance.
but please excuse me,
for my eyes have never danced
this way before.
and my feet...
they fall clumsy as my eyes
capture your captivating face.
copyright 2003 mai kozai
silence is also music. {11:30 PM}
the poet
mai sharona.
december 5, 1984.
davis, california.
a sucker for flowers.
