Some turtles can breathe through their butts
but i know the air that comes from your mouth before it leaves Earth.
It smelled like late night what-a-burger runs,
Houston humid trips,
and dank 3-hour naps you weren’t supposed to take.
You arn’t much of a sleeper,
Your eyes are too busy flickering fireflies in twinkles.
That’s why your eyes would hurt at night,
but you’d fight the body slam of…
So I decided to take a study break hehe yeeeeee.
This is Josh. For his birthday, he got an iPhone from his family and ever since then he has been addicted to two things: selfless and instagram. ~ If you haven’t added him on IG yet, his is joshuanguyen0304!!!! ~
He doesn’t like the way selfies make him look.
I think he looks fine though!
For the Houston Rockets, Game 4First step in losing a basketball game Have the balls to shake the winners hand. Know that you passed But passing doesn’t always mean scoring enough. Remember to untie your shoes, Because there is no point running when the race is over. The clock glares zero But it will be reset tomorrow. Remember your team, Their head on your head as you stare the floor in the locker room Imagine how empty your hands would be If your team wasn’t there to assist you You have a family to be grateful of. Block out the last game, Jump high and rebound. Don’t forget to box out the negative. Put this advice And God And family All in one basket.
Haiku for my sister.
You always controlled
The remote, always knew the
Buttons to test me.
You said you’ve been waiting for a poem
I said you always want to ruin the surprise.
Like the puppy tail that thuds me in the morning,
Your big corgi eyes i can feel behind my eyelids.
There is so much of life you don’t want to waste asleep
Which is why you stop to enjoy the roses!
On walks to brunches after mass,
You are the delicate leaves that fall from trees
When we always try to be the first to catch one.
How you always try,
and how I walk so slow
I don’t always catch the hints
I don’t always catch the leaves
But I always try to catch them in between my fingers
I won’t be the boy your beautiful bald head doesn’t deserve
I’ll fill the awkward in whenever I forget.
I’ll wash your dishes if it means to always start the evening clean
I’ll be the boy who just wants to sleep all day,
Who just wants your fingers through my hair
My beagle eyes pulled by gravity
My puppy tail
Resting on your foot.
For my dad
Today, in southern Vietnam,
There are children living, eating, and perishing in a massive landfill in Rach Gia.
As the sun peaks between plastic tubing,
Children wake up feeling like yesterday all over their bodies.
Some play pretend school with dirt on their fingers as pencils,
Raising their hands to ask questions that no one should ever ask
And they are met with silence,
Met with the clasping of new stenches upon their noses.
Most spend day-to-day partaking in the race of who gets the most cans
Even though it was not their choice to play,
Not their choice to grow up in a Jurassic area with a back-story of rebellion
With a history that prevented all of my father’s brothers
From reaching 50
Thousands of children, playing hunger games in the dumpster to survive
Hopscotching over broken bottles with
Walking brown dirt searching through trash for
Wasted cans of gold
Trading them in for sense of worth
But can never redeem for hope.
The smells of their own urine clogs their
Senses with the agony of never seeing their families again
The most magnificent smell of Da Nang they can’t remember
Their skin digs deep under ribs
Their stomachs, an acid pool of homelessness and hunger
Blackened banana peels become desert for the deserted
Hundreds, herded and picked off the street
Like trash cans to dumpsters
Their hearts, stuffed with acres of other’s waste
Home really is where the heart is.
Succumbing to malnutrition
Some are sold by their parents to become prostitutes
To learn nothing but pain and numbness
To think they are trash,
A product of their environment.
What value do they think of these kids?
Turning away their kin
For less than the amount you can redeem on the back of a Coke can
They will never know an education
They will never be able to see the sun over the Mekong River ever again
They will forget what clean means
They will grow up
And wake up every morning
With their arms still trying to stretch as high as they can
Hoping to pull a better ‘tomorrow’ out of thin air.
I’m an anvil
Falling through grounds
Falling through to the other side.
Inspired by Loyce
My heart is a heavy door
And you pushed right through it
You dragged in the welcome sign on your way in
Also tracked some dirt,
Some gum on your shoe.
Don’t you dare put your shoes on my mat.
This is my home now
And it’s clean.