PERSONAL ESSAY

Landing on the Medium writing platform may have been a happy accident for me.

And I have to say my blog-writing friends wouldn’t dare tell me poetry is irrelevant. At least not directly to my face. Here’s why —

© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.

Let me polish off my ruby slippers
before the night stutters
and I dance to the reckless music of the heart.

I want to find the one to stir me
like vittles in a teflon pot,
or like the endearing stars
caress the velvet sky
though there might be no glimmer
to what this night may hold.

Does destiny lie within my grip?
Have we lost romance
or is this a far better road?

Now should I swipe left or right?

grace notes: Remember old fashioned dating and Friday/Saturday night meetup social mixers and dances? How does that compare to online dating?

Has Artificial Intelligence forever changed dating life on Earth?

Thank you The Daily Cuppa to enjoy sips of life on Medium writing.

© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.

The devil in the details.
We enter this world
the center of the universe
a shining light.
If we are lucky
we learn to tiptoe on glass
and land on the mountain top
where the ridge
collapses into dust.
Embrace the sunset
and realize how insignificant
the trifle worries
that poison the serenity of the mind.

Thank you to Sahil Patel and Lifeline publication a space for the mind to stretch.

© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.

Nails and wood.
The back deck is tarnished in disrepair
we traded the adirondack for a sweet rocking chair
the porch swing sways in the breeze of summers past
and my head feels like an elevator stuck between floors.
When there’s a nose to pick
hair to slick
a boil to lance
and bitcoin don’t…

My distracted words took a tumble down the staircase
I did not expect them to survive,
I was assured they were casualties
of every scar I had archived.

My knees do not work well these days
for the very function of their design
and the staircase becomes another hindrance
than a way for me to climb.

The door was left wide open
memories uncaged now plague the mind
days pass but scars remain
while recycled words unwind.

© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.

There is symmetry and poetry
in each dimension of the galaxy.
I’ve made my share of mistakes
so let the earth open up and swallow me
with the seashells and rusted metal
buried amongst the ashes.

I burnt the toast this morning
and decided to write an ode
to cilantro
and to all the buckets with leaky holes
and to all the pencils with erasers
yet deep down
I still feel the ache
of my early morning mistake.

Thank you to the editors of The Daily Cuppa for a wonderful space on
Medium.

© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.