Will We Come In Peace? (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I’d written thus far.  Enjoy!!!

  • On this little watery planet,
  • earth is what we call it,
  • has many myths and legends,
  • but none is so alien,
  • unless we’re talking about UFO.
  • Oh, little green man,
  • or you must be a green woman,
  • with big head and weird eyes,
  • do tell us that you come in peace,
  • or do I have to be worried?
  • Thus UFO is both myth and legend,
  • zipping around with blinding speed,
  • too fast for us to know the truth,
  • planting illusive hope for seeing them come,
  • so we can shake their green hands in peace.
  • Obsessive as we are with UFO,
  • because we don’t really know,
  • why can’t we identify something,
  • and some of us go to great extent,
  • turning hoaxes into modern legends.
  • The confusion is compounding,
  • as science is advancing,
  • thus astronomy progresses nicely,
  • telling us there’s a huge possibility,
  • for them green outsiders to visit us.
  • After all there are countless planets,
  • to the point we can’t count them all,
  • and we don’t know how many more,
  • that are existing out there in space,
  • thus the possibility is truly fantastic.
  • Here we are becoming too obsessive,
  • with everything that is unidentified,
  • we scream UFO when it’s a hoax,
  • we scream hoax when it’s UFO,
  • thus UFO is truly unidentified.
  • The irony is us very being,
  • calling them weird and being green,
  • but we have yet to meet any,
  • and then we UFO the moon,
  • Mars too isn’t being so lucky.
  • We UFO another planet,
  • with our green robotic rovers,
  • to see if there is a green man,
  • or if there is a green woman,
  • to have a green handshake.
  • Perhaps, they’re out there,
  • out there somewhere waiting for us,
  • with their weird green hands,
  • hoping to shake ours,
  • but will they come in peace?
  • Perhaps, we’re green ourselves,
  • one day we’ll find them for sure,
  • with our green hands,
  • hoping to shake theirs,
  • but will we come in peace?

Giving My Machine A Beating (Poem By Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I’d written thus far.  Enjoy!!!

  • Before us we would walk,
  • for miles on end in the rain,
  • cold and wet we wouldn’t care,
  • as long we could walk,
  • we would walk for miles on end,
  • till we couldn’t walk no more,
  • till a sleepless inn begged us,
  • till a home greeted us,
  • being tired but we smiled,
  • the old way died hard,
  • still it died out anyway,
  • nowadays we would drive,
  • drive we would to anywhere,
  • rain or cold could not stop us,
  • we would drive for miles on end,
  • stopping by restless inn for pleasure,
  • then we would drive many miles more,
  • till we felt the satisfaction,
  • till we got no destination,
  • till a home greeted us,
  • driving upgraded our way,
  • we became less patient,
  • since driving got us around faster,
  • what took us days to walk,
  • now we could drive in hours,
  • why the wait we would say,
  • till we felt the jam,
  • traffic stuck encouraged road rages,
  • the animal inside us surfaced,
  • another road rage we would say,
  • nonetheless we got upgraded,
  • so too them horses,
  • no longer they slaved for nothing,
  • now they would be pampered,
  • pampering for men’s games,
  • then came the plane,
  • flew up high like a God’s chariot,
  • without feathers yet it flew,
  • with metals which could kill,
  • yet it flew and flew high,
  • yet it flew and flew fast,
  • it flew faster than most birds,
  • and it flew us around,
  • many times faster than we’d drive,
  • we’d say we’d fly,
  • and so we did it,
  • we thought that would be the limit,
  • god’s chariot indeed,
  • until the Internet arrived onto the scene,
  • shaming the fastest speed we’d boasted,
  • what took the plane a day,
  • Internet took less than a second,
  • to transmit data around the globe,
  • such a speed is near thought,
  • and only thought could match the light,
  • as they said light would be the fastest,
  • yet the sun took eight minutes to shine earth,
  • thus all speeds did have a limit,
  • however fast a speed took,
  • however short a speed’s strip,
  • it was all relevant,
  • and it is all relative,
  • till one day I sighed,
  • as I watched minutes passing by,
  • waiting on for fifteen gigabytes,
  • to transmit between the wires,
  • from one room to another,
  • though the data traversed the local area,
  • though the data avoided the world wide web,
  • yet minutes would fly by,
  • while I could just walk across the room,
  • and give my machine a beating.

What The Fizz? (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I’d written thus far.  Enjoy!!!

  • Silent as a calm breeze,
  • staring into the abyss,
  • as if time would freeze,
  • yet thee would have a fizz,
  • along with the bees,
  • busying with the fizz,
  • to stir up the calm breeze,
  • yet nobody made a hiss,
  • calmly drinking tea,
  • knowing not what the fizz,
  • till eruption of a stirred sea,
  • putting everyone at risk,
  • no longer a calm breeze,
  • what the fizz,
  • thus the bees and thee,
  • starting to make the hiss,
  • till the calm of a stirred sea,
  • overtaking the fizz,
  • then the bees and thee would see,
  • what the fizz,
  • hindsight revealed risks freely,
  • abyss was no longer the fizz,
  • overcame with sadness and angry,
  • what the fizz,
  • a story of relevance to be told freely,
  • thus, what the fizz?

Self-Made (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I had written thus far.  Enjoy!!!

  • Lightning streaked across the sky,
  • roaring thunder shook battle hardened knees of men,
  • yet rain had never fallen in years,
  • brought false hope to three decades drought,
  • women disheartened as countless men had fallen in wars,
  • all the signs foretold a birth,
  • a birth of a boy who was self-made in everything,
  • from the day he drew in the very first breath,
  • he was self-made instant,
  • till the day he died,
  • he was self-made legend,
  • and so the myth was born,
  • a self-made boy who ruled the world,
  • as king of kings he was self-made king,
  • even when he first broke out of a mother’s womb,
  • he was self-made as his mother died,
  • leaving him as a self-made infant,
  • without milk to nurture his infant life,
  • he was self-made by surviving on infant saliva,
  • he was self-made as he first knew how to walk,
  • he walked on two feet on the second day of his life,
  • he was self-made to the point that he could fly,
  • like a dragon he breathed out fire,
  • he was self-made to a point that he grew up too fast,
  • on a third day he was already a self made-man,
  • who stood taller than a known tallest giant,
  • kicking down the giant beanstalk for fun,
  • on the fourth day he was self-made genius,
  • he could calculate the known universe,
  • knowing all atoms there were in the known universe,
  • he was self-made billionaire on the fifth day,
  • and he declared who needed a family,
  • to nurture a self-made man,
  • after all a self-made man needed nobody,
  • on the sixth day he became a self-made Hitler,
  • who went on to destroy the known world,
  • and became a self-made Satan,
  • creating a hell on earth,
  • thus who needed the world,
  • as a self-made he self-made everything,
  • he even self-made a world,
  • a universe could be in reach,
  • and so he self-made a billion more universes,
  • to his own self-made image.

Reality (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I had written thus far.  Enjoy!!!

  • How real is it,
  • to feel the sun?
  • How real is it,
  • when dancing for fun?
  • Is it fair to ask,
  • how real do we feel?
  • Is it fair to mask,
  • the way we feel?
  • While one is feeling,
  • for the mood in the air,
  • it is amusing,
  • to see one does care.
  • Is it the reality,
  • which one’s sought?
  • In which reality,
  • that one’s fought?
  • Does one fight for,
  • the most intense reality?
  • So one can justify for,
  • how real one wants to be?
  • In the heat of the moment,
  • as one feels warmest,
  • reality shapes the moment,
  • the passion within burns dearest.
  • As the moment fades away,
  • the flame within is, too, flickering,
  • the reality has yet to go away,
  • how real is the feeling?
  • What if one is mad,
  • to the point of delusion,
  • does one see that,
  • delusion is the confusion?
  • If such is such,
  • how real is real?
  • Deluding as such,
  • which reality is real?
  • If such is such,
  • can one steal,
  • a reality as such,
  • so one can feel real?
  • How real does one feel,
  • when destiny is illusive?
  • A reality isn’t real,
  • unless one can be cohesive?
  • What if all one can be,
  • is to be delusional,
  • real and delusional as one be,
  • can this reality be functional?
  • Perhaps, one’s delusional is functional,
  • how can one say it isn’t real?
  • A reality which is functional,
  • thus a reality is for real?
  • If one has a choice,
  • to pick a reality,
  • destiny hasn’t arrived yet with a voice,
  • can this be real as it be?
  • The sun is up high,
  • heating up one’s heart,
  • feeling the warmth inside,
  • a reality forms within one’s heart.
  • Perhaps, a reality isn’t real,
  • yet one’s passionately pursuing,
  • does it matter for real,
  • this reality is deluding?
  • Under the sun,
  • how real is it?
  • When dancing for fun,
  • how real is it?
  • Feeling real or not,
  • is it fair to ask?
  • Feeling real or not,
  • is it fair to mask?
  • While one is feeling,
  • for the mood in the air,
  • it is amusing,
  • to see one does care.
  • The reality one’s sought,
  • is it the reality?
  • So one’s fought,
  • in which reality?
  • How intense a reality,
  • does one fight for?
  • The reality one seeks to be,
  • so one can justify for?

Here, River Runs Red Blood (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I had written thus far.  Enjoy!!!

  • Don’t you dare to tell me,
  • that you know it all,
  • don’t you dare to force me,
  • to see what you see,
  • after all you’re just like me,
  • bleeding in red blood and all,
  • after all you’re only human,
  • knowing a bit more isn’t God,
  • after all you’re only human,
  • knowing a bit less isn’t dog,
  • thus when you’re forcing me,
  • to see what you see,
  • I kindly refuse,
  • to see what you see,
  • after all, these eyes are mine to see,
  • seeing what I see,
  • knowing you got yours, too,
  • thus please do so and ignore me,
  • thus please do so and refuse me,
  • don’t see what I see,
  • after all, we’re only human,
  • after all, we’re no angel,
  • perhaps, there be angels,
  • but earth is no place for angels,
  • thus heaven is where angels be,
  • there they’re free from earthly coercions,
  • heaven is no place for wolves,
  • thus sheep baa all day long without care,
  • fearing not for wolves in sheep skins,
  • oi angels, you’re blessed,
  • with your heaven and all,
  • there you be without care,
  • thus you’re worrying not for neighbors who sin,
  • thus you’re fearing not for wolves in sheep skins,
  • this makes me think thus far,
  • dare the angels be earthly kin,
  • dare the angels be Eve and all,
  • eating the forbidden fruit,
  • saying good bye to the Garden of Eden and all,
  • being gullible and all,
  • letting in the evil serpent,
  • but I think angels know best,
  • thus there they rather be in their Garden,
  • where forbidden fruit fears not for being eaten,
  • where Eve is no longer there,
  • where Adam is missing,
  • perhaps, there’s a lone angel on earth,
  • experiencing the human coercions,
  • sucking in the sins and all,
  • gullible and all,
  • losing the angel’s touch,
  • seeing not thyself,
  • gullible and all,
  • seeing what the humans see,
  • losing the angel’s way,
  • oi, hell on earth,
  • here, madness runs free,
  • here, wolves baa like sheep,
  • here, sheep be slaughtered,
  • here, lone angel goes mad,
  • here, lone angel cries,
  • cry me a river or not,
  • here, river runs red blood.