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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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A trembling


 I see a mountain in the distance;

A Colossus making noise by being still…

I see a mountain in the distance;

A sumo wrestler clothed by the clouds,

Sitting on a mat

With chopsticks

And a bowl of rice…

Finishing the whole thing

And then rising to his feet,

Making trees hug each other for strength,

Making the pond boil

With movement alone…

I see a mountain in the distance,

And I walk to it

Only to discover

That by that time,

It has become a mountain of mere paper,

Letting my leg through as I attempt to climb.

Soon, I conquer the peak

By crushing it

Slowly

Under my feet.

I wonder where the sumo wrestler went

Or that he was ever real

At all…


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