Biography of Phillip Liu
Phillip Liu Poems
A Foggy Window
I can feel the subtle vibrations under my seat And hear the computerized voice say, "Turn onto North Eshman Avenue." While I stare at the blur outside,
I remember when we picked you up in rainy downtown Atlanta My seven-year-old hands wiped water from the window As I saw you and Dad smoking Marlboro Reds And talking beside the open sign of a Taco Veloz
Nothing Happens In My Room
Except the jackets on the door hanger morph into a towering man. His cape rests on his shoulders six-plus feet above the ground.
This Is Mississippi
Each puddle's mirrored sheen Shatters in way of my worn out Nike Trainers. Water drops explode toward me, Like an old cartoon man saying, 'Darn you kids! '
A Play Place
There once was a desert behind the restaurant, And there was an oasis on the other side. The desert could be changed though. Sometimes it was Fenway Park,
A Sound That Moves Me
3: 30 pm is break time, a chance to sit down, eat lunch and watch ESPN. A high pitched yelp common to office commotion. Muscles contract as deliberate and instinctive
White is a no colored plaster Used to fix the hole in the wall. It is a reason I run faster. Across the line I can put the football.
A Foggy Window
I can feel the subtle vibrations under my seat
And hear the computerized voice say,
"Turn onto North Eshman Avenue."
While I stare at the blur outside,
The chill permeating the glass window numbs my right temple
I know what the blurs are though:
Buildings, people, a fence, a sign.
But if I set my eyes on an object for long enough,
I can see the significance of each one.