Poetry Gallery IV


On this train
On this bus
On this plane
We do not move
From our place
Our minds and hearts arrive first
Before we set foot
At our destination
And only there
Does the journey begin


Difficult to find
Impossible to ignore
I want to make you mine
Now is not the time
Maybe some other time
I hope we meet again
Not to be mine
Nothing is perfect
No one is perfect
Not even you
Not even me
Not even us
At least not now!

The foul taste in my mouth
Emanates from the gross world
Where deception and hate
Triumph over truth and love
The foul taste in my mouth
Seeps to my stomach and
Makes me throw up
The sick trail of my innards
Forced out to this sickly world
Contaminating the earth above
But at least I am clean
The foul taste in my mouth
Will never go away

Alone, in the darkness I walk
Arms outstretched in front
Legs stepping cautiously
I wish I could talk

Without a lamp, or a torch
The terrain is unknown and dangerous
But deeper into this land I wander
In hopes of finding a light

But in my clumsiness
I step into the pit of despair
And falling for eternity
Never to return


One touch of your hands
One sound of your voice
One taste of your kiss
One word is all it takes
To push me over the edge
And fall in love with you

Random Hearts

You can't be the one
Random hearts clashing
In a foreign land
A match was lit but
Quickly extinguished
Upon leaving the land
But again these
Random hearts collide
The match re-ignites
And lights a lamp in our hearts
Waiting to burst and
Set us ablaze
Random hearts no more
But guided by fate
You are the one

I could fall for you so easily
I hold out my heart to you
Want you to grab hold of it
And keep it with yours
Together, beating in unison
Where they shall last
Until one is broken

Lovers embraced in arms
Sadness upon their faces
As the time grows nearer
The time when the other is ripped away
Taken away back home
One final stare in the eyes
One final kiss on the lips
One final good-bye
One more for love

The truth is nothing but a lie
How do we even know that the truth exists
When it is us who define the truths
It is us who make the truths a reality
And only then can the way be known
To the ultimate truth

Parallel Lives

Two lives
Two paths
Start so close
In close parallel they run
Meander and diverge as time wears
But as the fabric tears
The paths blindly collide
With a great fire of passion
Blinding the travelers
Two paths
In parallel
Two lives
Meet at their destiny!


©1996-2001 Zhan Huan Zhou. Last updated May-01-2001.

d r i v e l . c a | poetry