even in tea

The tea here has your name
so I no longer drink it
dark, tall and handsome
the glass in my hand is empty

question on origin, once more

I have once asked earth
am I from you?
when I do not have dirt in my hair

it laughed,
all I could know is that
I don't not know for sure

where I descended from
an earth or a sky
or probably a bit of them both.

in a car with a stranger

- Which country held your body, the times your brain was working?
- Soils, with different twisted tongues: one for home, one for elsewhere
I pay my attention to the window, where the nose of the lady meets a setting sun

- The horizon is beautiful
there's a muffed silence in the car, like fog rising
from the dashboard onto the glass

- Why did you reverse your footsteps?
- in what sense is a return a reversal:
reversal denote eraser and who wants to erase their history?

- What is your direction of prayer?
- the same direction of the sun, Eastward,
not a key change if prayer is still kept as a habit

- You sound an awful lot like someone who....
- Got cut out from a rooted tree?
there's a muffed silence in the car, like fog rising

- where is home?
I look from the dashboard to the glass
I close my eyes.

Modern-poetry

This is modernity;
who can tell, these days,
where poetry begins and stories end?

Diversity pick

There is a bell sounding in the distance
when you mispronounce my name
that is as common as wind on your street

there is another sounding bell when you speak
of my language as a sister to the one
my enemy uses to force me to subdue my anger
into a little ball of stress

there is noise and hunger
when you paint my features
with lighter colors to make sure they fit
your designated rainbow

there is screaming when you tell me
you mention me to others
the way you mention a badge you've earn
running marathons for cases above you.