Branches and Bones

A new way was paved;
The living paid their dues,
Money they gave,
And our lives too.

We were just weeds,
Pulled from our roots,
The cause of sweat beads,
Off of their youth.

What’s another five,
Or seven of us?
When thousands of lives,
Could easily pass?

I only wish they took me,
Along with my brothers.
What’s a lonely tree,
Without any others?

What can one alone,
Do more for the rest?
For branch or for bone,
What can one get?


Ode to the Internet

My dearest internet
My bread and butter
If you disappear
I am fretting

When typhoon strikes
You are nowhere to be found
When power shutdowns
I fiercely frowned

You are the source
Of my resource
My happiness
My brightness..

Ode Poetry 2:     Homebased