Category: Jackie Chou

Lilacs

Dad's voice in my ears,
After all these years,
Lilacs the color of dreams,
Reality starker than it seems.
The callouses on his hands,
Evidence of life's demands.
Too blind to see the truth,
He thought I had it smooth,
Not knowing what lay ahead
The road on which he tread.
The fallen lilacs only covered
The hardships I discovered.

Enemy

You're my friend,
yet you act like my enemy.
I see you change color
from the purple
of fairy tale chivalry
to the green of envy.
The hands that glued
my disconnected self
now tear me to pieces.
I am no longer whole
no longer a poet.
My words matter no more,
for you have lit a fire
and burnt them into ash.

You're better Without Me

You don't nee me, you need her,
though you think
the other way around,
deceived by my eyes, my hands:
the warm glow of my gaze,
the soft skin.
The kind gentle voice
consoling you
in your darkest times

But you need her,
who has a rock solid ego,
who is not afraid
to swim with you in deep water,
for she will rise up
no matter how many times
she has been pushed down.
Her arms are strong
to lift you when you're drowning,
her feet rough for walking

Glass Rod

You push me around
with careless hands
like I'm a glass rod
on a wind chime
forcing a word
a tune out of me
as the thin thread
I dangle from wavers
and I hold on
another day
before it breaks
and I detach
from the world I know
crumbling
shattered into pieces

Blocked

the black board gazes at me
waits for shards of glass
to fall from my mouth and shatter
outside the jacaranda flowers
descend like knives
upon the bleeding road
I want to vomit bile of disgust
wake from gangrene daydreams
where I fall from high places
again and again
the maroon color of poinsettias
saved for wakeful moments
my alma mater burgundy and gold
I live in the past not the now
my poems are mostly about me
not the outside world
the trees, the conch shells
the sound of paper turning
crumples my heart
as only the nonsensical
spills onto the page

Wolfpack Contributor Bio: Jackie Chou