Gamification of a poet’s Portfolio

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Gamification of a poet’s Portfolio

New level, new rules, you’d say
Relaxed in your anxiety and dread
I became used to how you
Would talk to yourself on airplanes
The turbulence of the ambitious
I suppose, I never had
That kind of luxury
You planned and reinvented yourself
You became a kind of
Magical realism of your own life
Skilled at indifference, sharp to criticize
New level, new rules, you’d repeat
Trying to find a polite way to adapt
To the predicament of not being famous
We’re all fiction, dialogue, performance
I suppose, but to adapt to an audience
To be a master of exposition
To fake it till you make it
Is not building a foundation
It’s being in the wrong empire.

My Soul is Flooded in Moonlit Night

At the end of the sky I am not alone
What thoughts occupy the highest mind
What time will the wild goose revelation come
Nearer and nearer to the final bliss

The rivers and lakes are full with Autumn’s currents
Literature and worldly success are opposed
The Tao does not listen to the lies of men
Women seek more children, while demons

Exult in human failure, minor poets trip
Throwing their best poems into the river
At the end of the sky I am not alone
The sunsets do not swallow me so easily

An army of drums meets me at the last
Stop of human travels, I have felt the white dew of love
Trap me in its sweet embrace, like a homeland
The letters I will send will go astray
Who will read the magic moon of my tongue?