No Alternative But Helpless

I'm a little behind on my posts for National Poetry Writing Month (OK, I'm a lot behind) so, in the interest of catching up a little, here's another:

No Alternative But Helpless

Dear:

I think
All this is not why we are happy?

Tasteless relations
No alternative but helpless

The weather is overcast
What can be said to you?

No feeling of hunger
Unhealthy

But he was not happy
Always hard to find

NaPoWrMo #12

Valentine's Day

Remember to cherish her.

Although I do not know whether she is any good.

But you should not--she is improper.

I wish you a Valentine's Day sweet sweet honey.

NaPoWrMo #11

If you know a child nausea

If you know a child nausea

If you know a look at Dream of the Red Chamber Miss Margaret Jet Milk East touch of nausea children

If you know a low-fat drink every day of nausea children

If you know a gray forever with the nausea children purple eyeshadow

If you know a song listen to a three-nausea children

If you know of a low back pain is not the pain-nausea children

If you do not understand a fine home for the first child nausea

If you know a holiday release is not to travel nausea children

If you know a summer shirt only buy the nausea children

If you feel that a self-awareness of nausea children

NaPoWrMo #10

left sea

negligence of the world to those
who have never savored mediocre
to fool people affected your faith
you
the truth

buried deep in the sea beads
left
do not know benefits
everyone except me can understand that the idea of God
find dazzling pearl gravel

ordinary people wronged your children
but I do not believe you worry
boring
meaningless
know no one in the days to enjoy
but who can know

NaPoWrMo #9

Clothing

Outward few days, in the home, of course, a good thing happened - I Mint Chiffon blouses, shirts are short of the two-inch, multi-inch short sleeves, a long short-sleeved.

Ironically enough? Back a long time, have been maimed as a half people to wear this shirt,
can play a disabled beggar to begging.

Each time, it will clothes washing machine that clothes can not,
do not want to hand wash is not critical and wait for me

to return to Hong Kong
will be taken to the laundry.

Then, there are always one or more
do not like dolls clothes waiting for me back home.

Bad clothes washing frequency
than the number of clothes I buy more.

Unfortunately clothing,
because I have decent clothes through many years, not to mention, clothes.

Born in the 1980s friends,
a secondary school during the walk wearing Nike Taotao.

They often miss is the most laughs
through the Yasaki never, I always speechless.

I have,
and that is Yasaki fish and rice.

Wear a skirt school for five years,
become translucent, underwear lace bra and the car line, far have seen.

Finally, only the unpleasant task
of asking students to replace the old school dress.

At the time,
the family really basic fields? Is not.

Mother that I would deliberately poor growth.

However, I only hate hearts forever.

NaPoWrMo #8

Playing catch-up again...

"The bitter cold in a bowl of hot rice with barbecued pork"

Parents are traditional,
a meal of rice to stomach. risotto.
Sushi rice is not, of course, not risotto yes.
Is a bowl of hot rice,
Lord of white rice.
And our generation?
Dining out, think of Italian pizza acne
are sheep
clams caramel
what is good, is not think of rice,
or a bowl of ordinary rice with barbecued pork.

NaPoWrMo #7

Breaking the psychological barrier of Trilogy

1. Makeup on the bus
2. Stations paste fake Wenjiemao
3. Rail trains in Hong Kong within Tu Shuangwenpi Chaizhao eyelid glue again 30 seconds



...I really do not even of the points that I can of epilepsy.

NaPoWrMo #6

No flies old World

"Drainage frightened old World No flies."

Because of this word, I think the whole night.

Inevitably, we in the housing topic, please do not continue, all of the bar.

To my old, will pick up mosaic tiles sleep flyover depends on the good fortune of their own.

For the parents, must also.

This moment I truly fortunate, we should also, but home, but there are still retreat.

Because my salary has never been more than a single grain that number.

NaPoWrMo #5

Uh oh, playing catch up...

Skin to the body of the letter

Dear skin of the body:

You okay?
Sorry so late write to you, I am sorry.
To tell you now say "sorry", it is too late?
Have you, will forgive me?
Seven years ago is still my students started throwing waves 24 hours a day,
the consumption of health impatient youth.
The results, after seven years, I, not to 30, have been aging.
If a drop of blood can be became the organs of the body,
I really want to know your dissatisfaction,
what I question is how slow you,
which will be three in the 2nd cold sore throat tonsils ear inflammation water imbalance stomach cramps insomnia.
When 10-year-old mill that the injury situation,
although experienced half of Utah Health dead of night without sleep,
I prefer not to have rebound insomnia.

NaPoWrMo #4

Hair, I am sorry

Hair, I am sorry.
The memory of you
You, he, I, you, thick
the beam with a ponytail in the face of others
will be painful.
In reality you, I have to be careful to finger comb,
shampoo with the anti-alopecia exposed to care.

Fingernails, I am sorry.
But obviously born relatively thin fragile,
I, for the sake of convenience,
two layers of chemicals in your body
not let you breathe.
Over the past year, you may be freed eventually,
but dying as the film "Saw II" posters in the finger.

NaPoWrMo #3

Ah, what the hell, let's call it a poem...

Why I Write

I'd like to say I write because I have something so profound to say that it would end conflict, solve global warming, and cure disease. Yeah, if only. I have no such altruistic expectations. I'd like to say I write because a pen fits perfectly in my stigmata. But that's not true either. No, I write primarily for attention. That's not, of course, the only reason I write. I also write to untangle the disparate threads of my experiences to create a narrative that allows me some kind of cohesion to hang my sanity on or, more precisely, I write because I'm psychologically damaged enough to think that I can. I write as an excuse to drink. I write so my keyboard doesn't get too comfortable. I write as proof that I'm not yet dead (but if I was dead and I could still write, I'd be a zombie, and how cool would that be?!). I write so I have a place to put all these pesky words. I write because I find solace in clearcuts. I write so I won't kill—again. I write because I like the feel of wind in my hair and the lure of the open road—oh, wait, that's drive. I write to chase that damnable flashing cursor across the page. I write because I want to meet Oprah. I write because I like it when people ask, “whatcha writing?” I write so that I can tell those people, “none of your business!” I write to bury my ghosts, but they're ghosts so they never stay buried for long. I write so, someday, I can get away with wearing a cool beret and turtleneck. I write because the way blank pages mock me really pisses me off. I write because if Dr. Phil can have his own TV show, I should be able to write. I write because Nabokov would've wanted it that way. I write because my parents wanted me to be a doctor (that'll teach you mom and dad!). I write in lieu of a real job. I write because if I stare at the monitor long enough I can see some really trippy tracers. I write to ignore the burning in my...uh, never mind. I write to find out the function of “Conjunction Junction.” I write so my dog will stare at me all day wondering when we're going to play fetch—he's so cute. I write so if there's an apocalypse and the only way to fight off the mutant zombies is with words, I'll be ready. I can write a perfectly good story right into the ground—where it belongs. I write because the need for sappy sentimentality is stronger than ever. I write so I can use big words like antidisestablishmentarianism—and girls really dig that. I write because if I ever go to prison I'll get all the good jobs. I'll write that smile right off your face. I write as the perfect antidote to American Idol. I write because the aliens gave me a choice between that and the anal probe. I write because I need a hug. I write so I can make fun of people who can't read. I write everything down so the detectives will have to dig through piles of paper to find my rotting corpse. I write up one side and down the other...if you know what I mean. I write off language on my taxes and that really confuses the IRS. I write furiously to keep warm. I write because meerkats can't.

NaPoWrMo #2

Something must be faced

I have to go to work tomorrow but only.

Always bad dark purple.

The doctor said I have depression.

NaPoWrMo #1

It's National Poetry Writing Month again so I'm going to try to post a poem a day for April (if I wimp out, I reserve the right to call April Fool!).

Juicy and yummy

In fact, I enjoy a good freeze.

Drainage each television broadcast to both, I will immediately look up to the fire is clear.

Searching late seamless music freeze not only new to girl skirt, the color stockings.

Juicy and yummy, really no-regrets of the dead.

Facelift, so-called? Microphone also bought both of the same principle, but you'd be a shirt.

Peugeot looks, long hair, breast enhancement, shining hip, a curve.
Hands and feet really go the distance still left little meat, think? (If I lose weight willing to sponsor cutting array of narrow nose, I am the servant to you! Will be met my blog, ah?)

Assuming all kind-hearted, only: artificial beauty of the same points, you really will pick a shame of both?

If you despise people trafficking and sex, but that of everyone in sale for living expenses.

Unless death, the first time for selling you, you will be met despise their own land sales?

Net will be afraid of a price. Well, good enough.

I fundamental to every minute of all sex trafficking, went to see the workers, the same conditions apply to everything, a kind of feels unpleasant to the eye, the other on three sharp 180, I want to ocular discomfort.

Only worry of both, and if there are three drainage both appearance and I both influenza is not even the world will be better.

Honest, a bra top garter, I think.