sixteenth notes?
look at them dancing to our music:
this must be their state fair.
flick.
[heads turn toward the stage]
[chorus sings]
"'there once was a man'
in a 'pajama game'
at 'hernando's hideaway'
protesting for '7 and a 1/2 cents'
parading around 'once a year day'
having 'small talk'
with some woman who proclaimed,
'i'm not at all in love!'"
[coffee break]
if i can't take my coffee break,
something within me dies!
'isn't it kinda fun?'
[intermission]
audience and orchestra intermingle into the mesh
of black.
the saxophone awaits its turn.
the concert bass looks like a sentinel from way over here,
protecting the precious memories created
in the eraser marks on the music,
in the bells of the clarinet,
betwixt the cellos' strings,
and swirled in the laughter
that will forever remain musical season.
[flashback]
[entracte]
'the next time it happens'
[encore]
there is more reason to [applause] smile,
looking inside out at the tumultuous cheering
of our hard work.
[outro]
[lights brighten]
smile.
(c)2004 mai kozai
*inspired by vu nguyen. thanks for the memories, brutha [one].
silence is also music. {12:01 PM}
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
paralysis
distempered disposition
and a collision
of illusions--
confusion.
may all this end
soon enough.
what is that feeling
when there is nothing to be felt,
too numb to notice,
too detached to care?
when indifference knows no mercy,
where sanctuaries do not exist,
when memories hold no precious value,
where nobody knows your name:
what is this feeling?
a
pathy?
(c)2004 mai kozai
silence is also music. {9:16 PM}
savior
jumpstart
my heart, failing to surge blood through my body.
all the color drains out of me,
save for my eyes.
my hair has been streaked white,
my lips, like a ghost.
but my eyes, no, not my eyes:
they are still the brown that you remember them to be.
i'm lifeless, save for two round spheres,
and they can see you crying for me.
(c)2004 mai kozai
silence is also music. {8:52 PM}
Monday, March 15, 2004
deserted carnival
here is the sacred carnival
of bloody tears
that fell off her cheeks
and stained her white dress
like a puddle of maroon nightmares.
there is a merry-go-round
playing their favorite song
resound.
his ears start bleeding
and drains him white.
ghastly white, is he
and she, so painfully crimson.
a cotton candy
cloud, a rainfall
of laughter
echoing somewhere long time ago,
merry-go-
round,
take them back to their
sweet surrendering day.
(c)2004 mai kozai
silence is also music. {5:01 AM}
the poet
mai sharona.
december 5, 1984.
davis, california.
a sucker for flowers.
