On The Move Poem by Duy Bui

My mind is a speeding train down the firm lay railroad.
Going train, bulleting from port to port,
throwing passengers at invisible gates.
Oftentimes, all that I saw and will see float on the mind’s canvas,
though never knew what colors to assign their rightful beings.
I’ve trod the long rainbow, though grasp not their inner skins.
I’ve seen that fearsome play, though saw not the monster’s face.

My limbs are the countless hidden rings on sleepless cars.
Moving limbs, chugs over spaces between,
seize by roaring engine through storms on calm days.
I can tell tales of the chugging sound that soothes many sleeping souls,
But can not shape my tongue to hum its courageous melodies.
I’ve kissed my girl with pash, and felt not her breezing breath.
I’ve walked a troubled thought, and forgot the minty air.