to defeat monsters, he has long since sacrificed his humanity
his heightened sense of vengeance bloats into a colossal skeleton
thick sinews and muscle strands of his frustration intertwine
outreaching like twilight as the sun sets behind great walls
his black hair flowing like crows flocking for food
his eyes glowing green of what was once the foolish innocence of
his derailed teeth expelling furious vapours between the cracks
his devilish ears pointing towards some secret in the western sky
his narrow brutish tongue spitting nothing but whims and revenge
and as he stomps and stomps, pounds and pounds
all his limbs into this entity he hates
with steam gushing out of the areas of contact
with disintegrating parts of his body blindly slamming into
his giant shape finally stumbles down, wondering
whether evil sheds tears inwardly
A transcending wheel of regrets
Sprouts forth wisps of choices.
Which world shall you conquer?
A directory of multiple screens,
Different routes, the same ending,
Where everything is really fake
But the enjoyment is surreally real.
An unhappy fairytale, an enchanted traveler
Bestowed with the gears of the mind.
A clockwork so extensive,
It has gone digital
Like a boy at the toy store,
He plays with what isn’t his,
A remote controller browsing fake realities.
Films of futuristic memories
Resurface on calm waters.
A beautiful portrayal distorted by the ripples of time.
One-time routines, impossible horrors, desired fantasies
Forged in the darkness of Helios
Shattered by glows of the god.
A current future passing,
A thought remaining unexplored
What could tonight’s dreams hold?
Blue, Beyond the Blues
Head rested on his hand, mimicking a comfort he once had
He spent every evening looking out the window
The girl had long departed, like a tugboat leaving no trace
On the water, except for the anchor pit under the waves
And he could hear the foamy sounds across the season
That resonated of the relationship between see and sky
Memories frolicking on the keys of black and white
Though with a harsh tune, it led to a harmonious epiphany
That nostalgia could be more dangerous than heartbreak
That he had always loved her; and that was his heartache
Spring echoed of the finest chords with all his unsung songs
Her reply was a slow wave pushed back to the summer’s beach
There blows another yet familiar salty breeze, once more
He reaches out his inner arms high to embrace the horizon
Allen Qing Yuan, a Pushcart nominee and author of Traffic Light (2013), is an 18-year-old freshman currently attending the University of British Columbia. Most recently interviewed by World Poetry Cafe Radio Show (CFRO100.5FM), Allen has since grade 10 had poetry appearing in Cordite Poetry Review, Istanbul Literary Review, Literary Review of Canada, MOBIUS, Paris/Atlantic, Poetry Kanto, Poetry Scotland, Shampoo, Spillway, Taj Mahal Review, Two Thirds North and more than 70 other literary journals/anthologies across 16 countries. Allen is also the co-founder of a popular clothing brand Above the Movement. please visit his websites::
- Twitter: @ATMovement
- Instagram: @abovethemovement
Allen Qing Yuan:ReplyDelete
Your poetry is so poignant...absolutely beautifully written. Thank you. Carol Castagna
very nice, i like your piece.ReplyDelete