Leaves
Today
when I take my usual walk
and see the trees
stripping naked
I will admit
that you have left me
to be in the wind
like the leaves
tumbling on the streets
Everywhere you go
you are followed
by a procession
I am not one of you
but a different species
many-angled
like a maple leaf
in your world
of pretty red hearts
Nothingness in November
Today I will write a poem
that is uninspired
From no loaded heart
shall the words be fired
No terracotta scene
will the verses describe
Black ink on paper
is all I shall scribe
If I mention the trees
goldening in autumn
I would want to elaborate
on the whole arboretum
So I jot down these lines
for the sake of writing
in a world that's obsessed
with thing after thing
Discarded Packaging of Earbuds at the Bus Stop
The parts of the packaging
have gone to the wind
the plastic tray
the white box torn open
No delicate fingernails
dug at the clear tape
to peel it off
as if its proprietor
was so desperate
to listen to something
a song, a video
that they couldn't care less
about the earbuds’ casing
perhaps to drown out
the cacophony of noises
inside the bus
the languages spoken
if only for a ride
or maybe a lifetime
The Beauty
She walks in beauty*
though she's nothing
like the night
Her eyes don't twinkle like stars
but glint like earthly flint
Her hair is more like straw
than the silken curtains
of the sky
Her skin
is no smooth ivory
of the moon
When she speaks
her words
are lackluster
Her voice sounds
more like a raven's croak
than heaven's lullaby
She walks in beauty
under the lamplight
of a lover's room
His gaze turns her into
a runway model
*a line from Lord Byron's poem "She Walks in Beauty"
Jackie Chou has published two collections of poems, Finding My Heart in Love and Loss and The Sorceress. Her work has also appeared recently in The Ekphrastic Review and Synchronized Chaos.
