The Happy Hobo.

Wednesday, September 07, 2011

5:47am.


Watched the sky as it turned blue; from grey it said hello how are you.
Such crap how I start thee, but couldn't stop. Just couldn't stop.
I hear birds chirp, like from some place near me, and I see you fly away,
Quick, goin in circles, like lost in the wind.

I got mad, in the silence of the night,
I whispered it to the wind,
Waiting, waiting
But alas, you didn't hear.

You're too hard to handle,
If you want it,
Then let it be.

A memoir.

Sitting outside the house, feeling the cold morning mist as I write. Lone shining star above me, in a little while begone. Waiting for sunrise and blooming flowers and hellos from the wind from far, far away.


It was another night, I hear the ocean splash against the rocks. Varied languages I hear and love so. I do not understand a thing but it felt like lullaby to my ears. 


I walk down the sandy path, waiting and waiting. The bay was so quiet, and I get greeted by. Konnichiwa, I hear. 


No, mister. I'm not Japanese. Some familiar word uttered in Korean, still not. 


I walked further until I got to the cafe. No familiar face I see. I itched to get a mojito but stopped myself. Time ticked and ticked until I get to the last sip of my tea. Still, none. 


I get by until the next day break, and there. There. 


It was another morning, over tea and curiosity. I take a sip of your homemade brew, it elates me. I laugh, like a jovial kid over cinnamon and daydreams. 


Time ticks, I prepared to leave. Words uttered, I asked why. And why. And there you said it.