Ordinary Day For Everyone (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

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

How an ordinary day it could be,
beyond that tree,
tumbling hills rolled freely.

A little creek whispered in hymns,
critters quenched their thirst on a whim,
a breeze rhythmically strolled through the realm.

Without rain or thunder to scare away the residents,
a boring day continued on without a special attendant,
here lay a cave where a sleeping dragon has been a resident.

A warrior in heavy armor, shield, and a sharpest blade,
creeping slowly within the shades,
onward to a cave as he readied for a fate.

Nearing the cave, breathless warrior’s thoughts ran high.
Am I doing this for everyone’s hide?
Am I doing this for my own pride?

Thousands of years a dragon was asleep,
one brave fool warrior just woke a dragon up from his sleep,
in a flash, fire raged out toward the cave’s opening and onto the creep.

Arming to the teeth, the warrior withstood the fire’s rage,
but he could not muster up his own rage to meet his destined fate,
yelling from his lung, he screamed “I’m doing this for everyone’s fate.”

Dashing toward the dragon with the sharpest blade and shield,
his emotion went numb, he was readied to kill,
suddenly he heard the dragon said, “hold back your heels.”

Dragon’s sudden talkative tactic unnerved the warrior,
nonetheless, he charged on for a pride of a warrior,
“I’m doing this for everyone,” he roared as a warrior.

The dragon bled out a river of blood,
but the warrior got drowned in the blood flood,
a bloody mess it was, but the dragon still stood.

Another slow breeze rhythmically strolled through the realm,
a little creek by the cave whispered a hymn,
critters quenched their thirst on a whim.

Perhaps, on another ordinary day,
another fool would try to prey,
a sleeping dragon that would sleep away.

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Infinity Is Magical

In my opinion, the word [Infinity] is very magical.  This word is an oxymoronic, because the idea of the word is so human.  First of, as a human we are living record to be wiped out eventually, because death is always ready to come knocking when the time is up.  As being humans, we have wild imagination on how death will come and what will come after death.  Some of us like to think death is just an abruption of life, because we may be reborn in another world or in heaven or hell, depending on how much we have sinned on earth.  Some of us also like to think death is the end of everything.  Basically, we cannot ever come back to life to retell the transformation of what had happened after death to any living being.  Nonetheless, the big picture is all about life would go on without us.  Thus we have a picture of death which destroys things, and the rebirth of other things that make life goes on.  This is why infinity is an oxymoronic word!

Even the whole universe will someday be destroyed.  If this is going to happen, everything within a universe will cease to exist.  Nonetheless, how do we know infinity will be truly dead?  We are not capable of knowing when the universe will end, and so how do we know if there won’t be another rebirth of a universe?  We are sure there was a rebirth of a universe, because we are in it at the moment.  This notion does assure us that we cannot be sure there won’t be another rebirth of a universe, because the phenomenon had happened before!  In a way, the word infinity is contradicting itself if a universe is to be destroyed, but a rebirth of a universe would confirm the true meaning of the word infinity.  Nonetheless, if the next universe won’t have any human being in it, will infinity stick around?  Perhaps, the aliens won’t have a word or even a notion of the infinity, because they just won’t care or won’t get it.  If the meaning of the word infinity isn’t being understood by a being, the word itself ceases to exist!  Once again, the word infinity, as being very human, is totally an oxymoronic idea!  Nonetheless, it’s very magical indeed!

Freak of Nature (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

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

Shunned by the mass,
an ugly duck quacked,
a freak of nature at that,
incomprehensibly quacked.

Quack, quack, quack!

The mother duck would quack,
encouraging the other ducks en masse,
to scold the ugly duck, quack, quack,
how useless the ugly duck at that.

Quack, quack, quack!

Poor ugly duck quacked in silent,
hoping the other quacks would die down,
unabated quacks would siren,
scolding the ugly duck as a clown.

Quack, quack, quack!

Came an old man Darwin,
taking a pity on the ugly duck,
using his Darwinism for the win,
confessing that he is in luck.

Quack, quack, quack!

The mother duck would quack,
Darwin would adore the ugly duck,
the other youngins would quack,
Darwin professed the freak is his luck.

Quack, quack, quack!

Angrily, other ducks got rowdy,
the mother duck demanded an explanation,
Darwin professed he is lucky,
to see a freak of nature in action.

Quack, quack, quack!

The mother duck would agree,
agreeing that the ugly duck is a freak,
Darwin would disagree,
saying that a freak isn’t so a freak.

Quack, quack, quack!

Other ducks would quack,
old man, you are so crazy,
freak is a freak, quack, quack,
otherwise this doesn’t explain nicely.

Quack, quack, quack!

Darwin laughed and replied,
it’s beautiful to see nature in action,
creating something different once in a while,
freak of nature is an evolution.

Quack, quack, quack!

Yes, it’s also a revolution,
rebelling the old, boring, outdated nature,
nature often starts a new experimentation,
potentially, creating a freak for a new measure.

Quack, quack, quack!

So quack away while you can still quack,
as the freak hasn’t yet realized he’s beautiful,
once he does you would fear his quack,
for his quack will be most wonderful.

Quack, quack, quack!

In their boring ways the ducks went on quacking,
believing the old man is a freak of nature,
thus they would go on quacking,
how the ugly duck is a freak of nature.

Quack, quack, quack!

Darwin failed to enlighten the lame ducks,
in sadness he humbled away,
years later, disease killed many lame ducks,
while the ugly duck flourished away.

Quack, quack, quack!

Ugly duck with wife seeded newborn freaks,
proving Darwin is right, they went on thriving,
ugly freaks became the new measuring stick,
long gone the lame ducks once were quacking.

Fever Of Unholiness (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

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

So clear you can see through,
to the bottom of the freshest lake,
so pure the fish haven’t had a clue,
near boiling temperature boils the lake.

How pure should a virgin be,
so to not hurt a virginity pride?
There she goes clueless as she be,
heart beats till temperature rises too high.

Steadily, she calms herself,
swearing not to swear under her breath,
oh, holy, please do not let me be someone else,
please purify me with your holy breath.

Too pure to even notice,
her world is being shaken to the core,
a shaken soul possesses by a fever of unholiness,
frustrating much as she can’t take it anymore.

Is it sane for one to be so pure?
A virgin’s fire would not yield to the wind,
as if the wind is a disease and never a cure,
thus a virgin begs her holiness to banish the wind.

Without the wind her world is empty,
her seeds are withering away in a silly stillness,
austere and ugly world she creates for her virginity,
yet she struggles to truly erase her fever of unholiness.

In God’s Image (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

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

Hundreds of billions of stars twinkle in the sky,
dotting the sky with light where darkness reigns,
ironically, blinding bright as the sun in the sky,
stars are shrouded by mysteries where darkness reigns.

Astronomers ponder upon the stars for universal mysteries,
just so the mysteries of the stars would reveal the sea,
the sea of the stars where the universe is full of history,
a history which has been shrouded by mysteries that be.

Pondering upon the stars they have been full of stirs,
slowly they have worked out some of the mysteries,
oh, super-massive black holes dot the universe,
stirring the wise astronomers into the miseries.

Could it be the universe was begun with a bang?
They’re convinced big bang was the mother of the universe,
a bang, then boom, somehow the elements formed the gangs,
these gangs are full of mysteries in this universe.

Personally, I love to fancy the universe as a human body,
as the stars and universal mysteries form cells for the flesh,
the cells would fight to survive or die out within the body,
just so to leave space for the newcomers to be their best.

If one to believe the opposite of infinity is finite,
then one must accept the universe too must age and extinct,
thus the body mirrors the universe that will die,
and all the cells within will too go extinct.

Perhaps, each God creates the universe in his own image,
as the universe dies, a God too would go into extinction,
because each universe could be a body in God’s image,
literally, pushing his worshippers into a universal extinction.

Perhaps, this way, it’s not wrong to worship one true God.
Perhaps, worshipping more than one true God isn’t wrong either,
because each universe is a body of a God,
and so there are many Gods in the ether.

Gods should stop fighting among each other,
because doing so would dance to the devil’s tunes,
and bringing the destruction to our mothers,
while the devil is dancing to his happy tunes.

Fairy Tale (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

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

Time would not wait on anyone,
no party would last forever,
it’s an illusion to be someone,
giving time, you’d be erased forever.

Knowing things are so impermanent,
and it’s hard to say goodbye,
thus, good time is impermanent,
because this too is going to fly by.

Good time is hard to come by,
once nearby, good time is one heck of a memory,
a good time would fly by,
leaving behind a ghostly trace in memory.

Memory too is to be forgotten,
if not… it would be wiped out in time,
for time is the graveyard of the humans,
and the humans are vessels of memory in time.

In time, too, time would be forgotten,
once upon a time, in a fairy tale…
by a bard camp, happy time was not forgotten,
but now it’s only a fairly tale.

Perhaps, the fairies of the future,
would look back and not see time,
for they are of the future,
thus, time would not be their rhymes.