Duy Bui Poems

Cold drops of rain fall
Through the cracks they crawl
On his young bald head
With his ma they nest
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A black dot Mr. Summers has drafted.
Followed ancient tradition from pebbles
To stones. Each darted the grey wind shafted
by friends and neighbors, no distant rebels.
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Holding a loss with great esteem
He lay asleep with old shadows
Circumvent not, new waken dream
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I was sure I knew sufferings
My journeys, never infinite
A carpet lay, if one not stray
Swell of days, be on their way
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Sink deep in their yellow skins, autumn steams on.
Spent memory will depart, so will my youth.
My new steps flow in tautness, oh, so restive.
Life’s beats swayed its frosty chants, mine swathed along.
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What I desire is not yet here,
but beyond this window before me;
dwelling in the air, the clouds that bring about rain,
the bare branches, the coming leaves,
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The sound of temple bells echoing between two silent,
gray mountains as the silver raindrops upon a breezeless pond;
in its stillness I seek my own reflection.
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Mercy would transpire in the enduring wind at the arrival of every departure.
Time past, present and future die and blossom in one single flower,
Under one faintest moon or one thinnest prism of sunlight.
Past and future effloresce in the never-ending blinks of the eyes,
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Summer has arrived, bright and golden like once before; golden above the weightless ticking of days and became moonlight beating upon dark water of the nights.
Her golden hair hung down, touched and cuddled the green blades of grass, and when those grasses passionately grew like wild weeds, they begin to block her sight, mind and were cut away.
Perhaps both of our consciousness mingled unconsciously in the hearts, but when consciousness advanced and conquered, all was sliced apart and split. Her words begin to stir the moments like early autumn leaves rushing a summer sun.
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Inspired by the Vietnamese prisoner who was in prison for 40 years and was finally released. He is now in his sixties and was asked if there was anything he would like to say by the Vietnamese-American Television, and he replied “Do you think I can fall in love anymore? ”

A prisoner to some, but the hero to most
was freed after forty years behind injustice
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