by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
Your blue-veined hands swept all things into light; a box of apricots, a peeled grape, a sick dog that had to be chloroformed, a child to be led down hallways of ideas up staircases of words –anything to be fixed, mended, made out of nothing. How could you whirl...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
Goodness flowed from her fingers; blossomed in dresses made out of nothing, in fresh juice over ice (hand-chipped for my fevers), in home-made noodles and chicken broth with delicate chicken feet. The same patient fingers traced words as she read, and placed dominoes...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
remember that lilacs enfolded the night in a soft June kiss, a never-never land of love in a candy store. They floated like clouds of stingless bees in mesmeric rivers of honey around your tender face. There was a sound like water falling or clusters of little bells...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
The art student called his water-color sketch “Girl with Leaves,” sold it for lunch money. Long curls relax over her shoulder. Her wide white hat’s not drawn, but framed by sunlight; the shadows all are pools of sun and leaves; you know she’s firmly seated, but...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
In the center where nothing pulls her apart she lets go of chicken-fat indecisions; like Baudelaire dreaming the smokestacks of Paris she no longer flinches at her fate. Through dreams astound with their cryptic knowledge of details from her daytime world they keep...
by Portia Choi | Aug 5, 2015 | Poems
Upon this green remembrance a thousand flowering hours have shaken gold-sweet bloom into our differing rooms, and one green miracle shelling love out of the pod of time frees your world from mine.
