But after a heated argument, they ignored each other.

A young woman named Silence intervened to defend all three of them.

It turned out that in their previous life, they had been a single sword, forged in a blacksmith’s fire—the very sword that Silence gazed at with fascination every day.

Eventually, that sword froze into a block of ice.

Thank you for reading. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Y.A.

The baby fell out of the hammock

while he was falling asleep.

No one lifted him.

He crawled back up from the ground.

Then he moved closer to his mother

and asked,

“Mom, I have a gold bar that I hid.

If I die, will anyone ever find it?”

His mother smiled and said,

“No one would bother.

The gold bar crawls on its own, just like you.”

☘️Version 2: Gold is Gold

The baby fell out of the hammock while he was falling asleep.

No one lifted him. He crawled back up from the ground.

He was used to the pain, so it didn’t bother him anymore.

Then he moved closer to his mother and asked,

“Mom, I have a gold bar. Why do I show it off every day, but no one looks at it? They only want to see it after I die?”

His mother stroked his head,

“No one cares about your gold bar. It is beautiful but strange, unlike the gold bar they already own.”

He frowned and scrunched up his face in disappointment.

“Oh, then I might as well throw it away.”

His mother said,

“Even if you throw it away, in reality, it will exist forever.”

Thank you for reading. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Y.A.

It tasted and tasted,

found no sourness.

The beggar scooped up some water,

offering it to the fox to wash its feet.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.

And the traveler wandered alone

through the painting of late autumn.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.

Let my soul breathe into you.

I reach for you as I would a star.

Please hang my soul upon a branch!

The stars speak of all the sorrow in my heart.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.

A wildflower.

You sleep in my arms.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.

Pouty lips,

He murmured, “Oh my star! Where have you been today?”

Makes my soul float in the window of the moon.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.

drifted away and never returned.

That person, too,

departed from the river.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.

Time turned back through a few lifetimes.

Walking to the ends of the earth with this staff.

Objects and plants as companions along the way.

Alas, a resting place is ephemeral and temporary.

Stopping and then moving again. Stopping and then moving again.

On a high mound, high mountains, storks half-revealed.

Thank you for reading.

Y.A.

hangs across half a lifetime.

A dim oil lamp

flickers.

An unmoving shadow

on the wall.

Tatami whispers to the wall,

“Hey, you—

the mortal world

is the realm of the black moonflower.”

The wall replies,

“Then imprint

that moonflower here, Tatami.”

☘️

Thank you for reading.

Y.A.

I have two eyes.

One eye I use to see the world,

the other I keep for you.

But where are you,

where are you?

The ship roars, the ocean is far away.

Magnificent Paris,

is it still as captivating as the eye

with which I glance at you?

☘️

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.

They bloom within me and within you.

They bloom within the human heart.

The bumper harvest is the sugarcane flower season of compassion.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.

I move far. You approach.

Fansipan, be a witness!

High pass. Mountain overturns.

Pass overturns. High mountain.

What must be done?

Only need two gusts of wind to hypnotize.

☘️

Thank you for reading.

What do you think about this kind of Surreal-Physics poetry?

Y.A.

The moss, damp and slimy, is a dull dark brown-gray.

The old tiger roared throughout the day.

Two eyes appeared sunken at night.

Looking pensively at the corner of the warehouse.

It remembered glorious days,

when people considered it king.

Two front legs looked crooked.

Two hind legs had turned into barbed-wire hands.

Two hands, sharp, cold, and purple-blue.

Then, one day, powerful lightning struck.

It startled; it screamed.

Its soul flew wildly into the red paint box.

In that brief moment,

it longed to return to the house with a roof.

☘️

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.

counting each breath,

each drop of cloud wandering around here.

Then I see you.

My soul is less lonely.

You sleep so soundly,

never startled.

They say you harm the leaves,

yet you don’t mean it.

You are merely

borrowing the branch to rest,

aren’t you?

I gaze at the yellow leaves

at the end of the rainy season.

Oh, the last yellow leaves!

I reach out to pick you,

I bury you.

Please don’t be upset with me!

You will rise again —

you will be graceful once more.

I’m leaving now,

not knowing if we’ll ever meet again.

Yet no matter what,

I will forever carry

a sky of fallen leaves in my heart.

☘️

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.

🌿Thank you for watching my reel.

Y.A.

Y.A.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Y.A.