(Image from absolutechinatours.com)

The Emperor’s Reign

Refusing to go
after the king;
they fall over each other
declining chance
to say something.
Too brilliant even for the sun,
Too smart for the report of a gun.
I remain alone
on top of my mountain


(Image from images.bridgeman.co.uk)

The Emperor’s Rain

It comes without
so much as a by your leave.
It falls soft, pitter patter,
or hard, an invading army
hungry for gore glory.

It is food.
It is death.
It is sink or swim,
stuck in the mud.

It is an old lover,
the only friend;
when gods
abandon Olympus
fearful of fear
and a child’s smile.

Sandra Smiles

(illustration by Sandra Chi)

The rain never stops for Sandra.
It gets too excited with her smile.
Let foreign invaders pose their art,
let native collaborators prance their dance –-
don’t let Sandra smile,
it is the end of romance,
or the beginning of revolution,
the breaking of idols, the falling of gods.

From on high, angels sigh,
scatter seeds of confusion & inspiration –-
the silence of sacrifice.
Hearts on slabs, wheels on fire.
The gentlest of touches,
the wispiest of dews;
all bear witness to the promise blank.

Men never tire of the chase,
Bear witness to desperate disparate deeds.

Sandra smiles.
Anything exists.

Patricia Javier & Y2K

Mind cobwebbed
by the pochingkai
Reflection is genuflection
on a past gipapas
Bunnyman Prime howls of sugar kisses and killing luna
Y2K scared the shit out of the computer geeks, generals and tycoons
Midnight struck, nothing happened except for Patricia smiling hither
and tither,
covering her mammary glands inches short of glorious display
for the world to see, flower in her hair.
Patricia disappeared along with the phantom fears.
Everyone and everything went back
to their business including her
She married into money and Euro genes, bore beautiful children
who walked the earth as giants the color of precious mocha
They will rule the world like potentates with the power of mutants
Intelligent beyond belief, powerful as gods fallen from Olympus
struck down by lightning screaming of thunder and vengeance
The powers that be will quake in their uniforms and suits
spill scalding coffee on the corporate war-room table
Patricia who was born into grinding poverty and purity
Patricia who grew into ambition and execution
has realized her destiny
She is smug and proud
While she feeds her offspring the milk of bitterness and desire
She sees a future owned by her sons and daughters,
of arrogance and no compunction
She sees herself as what she is --
the Bride of White Pride and the Mother of Mass Destruction
The yesteryears of bare-skinned shame
are ashes under her feet.