daniel kim

Down falls the gray,
come down down and play,
i love to sit next you,
on your happy holiday.
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I look above,
from joined hands and finding birds,
till infinite favorites my mouth will notice,
i applaud with hymn,
...

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In between the line of shade and drizzling rain,
covered and uncovered,
the half of me has gone different.
...

As a blossom
winds across this spring,
take me away
into the blurs of a mist,
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Our fingertips trail along, as a dove
glides of guiding wings,
appearing to our faces, of
love singing smiles.
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It’s not me, it’s not
Who I am…
Who traces every spit, that flies across rooms
And learn from
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Let his hands be a remedy, From
the creation in this divine world,
Of which our father
has created.
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Descriptions of such rebuking yells and ringing sounds,
from behind the walls of difficult pounds,
the gray hues of lifeless skies,
to fallen tears as wrecking bys.
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Desperate in pieces of longing hands,
What does my lip say
in order for this prayer to be alive?
I plea within words from ongoing presents,
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Invites of pleasant influence
to rhythm blending petals with strong holds
carrying on churns of little bends.
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Rubbing eyes of fallen sleeps,
But awaken poems
Rocking my boat from
pushing and shoves
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What do you think of,
as cotton balls that are held up high,
covering the parts of blue and sometimes hiding the light?
...

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