Taipei 101 Nightscape


Taipei, all the way to New York
I can feel the distance, getting close
All I thought about on the airplane

Was the way you tasted, teasing me
With skin of golden canvases
And eyes for Art and pleasing beings
In the Twilight of your erotic submission

There is a plumbing of fireworks
That grinds to a festive halt
For years of wanting to be held

Flowing in greater complexity of intimacy
A thrill of flesh ripened to sweat
And orgasms wrapped around lost years
I can feel the boundaries, begin to fade

Sometimes, I think you want me to touch you
How can I, when my lust is fueled by
The stimulated use of your careful independence

An exotic foreigner, your lips hold secrets
I promise to never tell, as long as you share them
With me, and let me speak in tongues
Over your body bare of everything

But tattoos of Mandarin idioms
Where your black hair burns
Shivering in the unimaginable pleasure
Of your hot virginity melting

Beneath my icecaps, your cheery fields
Hoping the continents could squirm together
To burn the Earth like skin
For just one hot moment at its core.

“I can feel the distance getting close
You’re right next to me
But I need an airplane” – Tori Amos

Song background:

Photo Courtesy:



Give yourself to the air
To what you cannot hold
To feeling, the entered breathing
And expanded until you

No longer had a heart
But became every heart
No longer had lungs
But became every sky

You where the heart begins
You where inhaling and exhaling ends
Fear not the pain, of heavy earthly tragedy
It rolls off your skin

Like childhood forgotten
The metaphors have endured
The love has been inherited
And beauty longs to happen

To awaken to the transient
With pictures of brief hours
That were once yours
Give yourself to the water

To what you cannot hold
To fires that were passions
In weeping in a stranger’s arms
To sleep that felt eternal

And rest that felt like laughter
Where pain can enter, and leave
With no resistance in your body
And maybe those who come after you

Will feel the streams of fullness
In greater degrees, wider magnitudes.

Photo Courtesy:

Ode to Meditation (The Good Darkness)


This is where you are asked
To collection your mind’s fragments
Into a quiet pool around silence
Bit by bit let go of grasping

Thought without possession
Attains quantum emptiness
Perched, and perished, hidden
Beneath Paradise, minutes of fresh prey

Where you will not exist
Darting below Creation’s wheel
A hooded comet, God’s pastime
Where no tongue will tell your secret

And no observer clouds your way
It’s a gift to the ear, to make time stop
Even for an instant, resets the brain
The good darkness, deepen it

A candled moth, without half-light
Nigh journey coming closer to God
No poison of desire, no tumult of attachment
No self, no trace of following

Only the listening beyond time and space
Step beyond, be, become, die
Before Rumi, Attar or Sanai
Erase memory to upload nothing.



We were tired, we were very merry
We had gone back and forth
About the reason to stay alive
But we looked into the fire
And we saw each other
And the sky went warm

And our lips grew cold
The sun dripped emerald
On our morning lighted cheeks
And our hearts, were the places
Where people came and went

Like gold in the trader’s hands
We were tired, we were very merry
We loved the beggars that we fed
We had gone back and forth
About the sincerity of our altruism

We cared for what we had to say
In our silence that blew neighbours in
And we looked into the afternoon square
And we saw each other there
And the sky went wet

And our mouths opened for the rain
We were like children, dancing
Our hearts were what they were before
We closed the windows but could
Still hear the birds, from scattered

Crumbs upon the sill, the hours raced
We were tired, we were very merry
The loveliest lies of our lives
Were in the end, what we cherished most.

Photo Courtesy:



Lately I’ve been weight-lifting light
Call it atonement for a lifetime without meditation
For transgression and omission

Of Spiritual exercise
Lately, I’ve been listening
To our expectation for the future’s reverence

But the new world does not wait
Adapt or die, transform or risk losing everything
This is progress, this is

The voices and violins
Of a new generation
Lately I’ve been daydreaming sunrise

A burden of faith, sliding into the Sea
An overture, a requiem to the tragedy
The divine subtraction of time’s brevity

I know it all too well
Call it atonement for a life of leisure
The freestyle freewill to reincarnate

An any point in the linear overflowing
Between music and mathematics
Lately I’ve been bereaved unorthodox

Photo Courtesy of:–466500259




To what purpose, August, do you return?
Beauty is not enough, I’ve noticed
It has died in your heat, I know
The climax of summer is false


I prefer in-between seasons,
Spring & Autumn, so much more soul!
Of little leaves, and old blooms
I know what I know, Summer is a vacancy


Cactus of the Earth, Eaten mangoes
Buried dreams, empty cups
It’s not enough, that yearly you do this to me
Promise me flowers and leave me with


An empty feeling in my gut
Weedy and insecure Sunsets
Ragged flame of burnt-out hours
Blessed heat, but not bright enough


For my blood, liberation in perishing
Every bed so narrow, every friend departed
I have forgotten how the frogs must sound
The summer silence is little solace

For a life caught beneath savage beauty
Timid inequality, squalor, nights without dreams.

Photo Courtesy: