Our Balcony

My Juliette and me,

We have our balcony,

And I walk by and wave

To she who is so brave

In waving with a smile

That is her happy style.

This Juliette and I,

This fancy of my eye,

We’re glad as glad can be

To have our balcony!

Sometimes old Chan is there,

And I must “exercise”

And walk like I don’t care

For Juliette’s dark eyes.

But she, she waves a hand,

And I, I spin about,

Till mixed up is old Chan—

His brains are inside out!

Then I do go on straight,

Juliette does do a chore,

And we act like we do not see

Each other anymore!

Oh, strange is love sometimes,

When fools get in the way.

But Romeo has strong rhymes

To make true loving stay!

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My Nandal

My Nandal’s hair is soft, I swear,

And light as light, my Nandal’s hair.

Against her ear I kiss it oft,

Where there it waits my breath, not rough.

My Nandal’s eyes are brown-gold-brown,

Straight, or sideways, upside down!

And oh, the cheeks of Nandal—-brave!

So quick are they my kiss to save!

Or left, or right, they dimply claim

That I’m the stake of their love’s fame!

Not least of all, my Nandal’s nose—

It roses mine as we inclose,

And light as light, my Nandal’s hair,

So soft, so soft, so soft, I swear.

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No Rush

I am your lover, yet many days go by and we don’t even touch, nor breathe each others breath. And yet again, across them all, as through a moving wall we glance and see the one most precious of any face that’s there, the one true day-flower gliding in its own power.

Tomorrow, meetings are done, speeches are over. A lot of laughing goodbyes, then out and gone. And then, we’ll be alone, the whole stage ours. Oh, what will be your lines? What, indeed, mine? We’ll have our heads together; our lips will touch, and to no audience we’ll say, “No rush.”

Then you, perhaps, in fullest joy will cry, “I am your lover, let no seconds by!”

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Stand, Hong Kong

Stand, Hong Kong,

Stand you strong.

You are right,

Not in wrong!

Never cow,

Never bow;

All the good is

In you now!

Freedom’s soul

Yours to sing;

Free-born life–

And you, its wing!

Dark threat of force

Is vile behave.

Who uses has no

Face to save.

But you are good,

Truth is yours.

Already sun and

Sky is yours!

Already all the

World can see

You are height of

Being free!

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I Am

Rise for America,

Rise, and then go—

Into the battle

To beat the foe!

They are the communists,

No-man-souled, worse,

Hating free life

In the whole universe!

Individuals hating,

Star-enhancing of mind;

Creators and thinkers—

They’d ban us and blind.

Lovers of noth-noth,

Of ugliness, too,

They look for the one thing

To nothing-out you.

You, the self-truster,

You, the must, real,

Who, in self-luster

Flash-fills your ideal.

Ah! They can’t stand it!—

A self that is whole!

To drown, down command it,

They’d kill it–your soul.

But you are America,

Great man of this earth.

In you is its firstness,

True glory of worth!

For “I” be you fighting—

Each woman, each man,

Your ego-light lighting

The sky with—-I am!

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Sweet Stuff!

In three day’s time

I’ll fly away,

But l will come back soon!

I’m only half a melody

Till you complete the tune!

Glad I’ll be to find new books

And give to them my loving looks.

But in three days I’ll have enough,

And ready be for your—

Sweet stuff!

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Ill or Not

You’re getting well;

I am, too.

I get well

Because of you.

Well done or rare,

We both are hot.

A touch, a kiss,

A moment’s bliss—

Now healthy us

For such sweet fuss.

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