Po Nagar Cham

Named for the ten armed Mother Goddess who taught the cham people how to plant rice and weave. This place was really amazing. It sits at the top of a hill next to the river surrounded by mountains. 

I find myself more drawn to the shoes outside of the temple than the temple itself

it was very windy today so i wrapped my hair up.. i've never had so many people ask me if i was arabian HAHA

..if only i could write or draw sound.. 

Headed toward heaven..

This is the place that I could stay for a long time. There are islands dotting the blue gray green sea and huge mountains surrounding everything. Its gorgeous and much much cooler here. Breathtaking.

words dilute what is

Agent Orange

I don't even know what to say about the War Remnant Museum. This is one of those times that I envy the people who can whip up speedy and meaningful reflections. All I can say is that I feel a sense of guilt and shame.. partially for being oblivious to the true nature of war and this degree of violence, and partially for reasons I don't really know. The other is a true feeling of embarrassment.. in front of god, aliens, the cosmic mind or any of the other sources that witness how we humans treat each other.

a kilo of rain water

II.

my right now

is charcoal gray 

smudged over beautiful today 

pink turned black 

raining

i bled back to white

torn paper heart

stained light gray

a long goodbye kiss to this world

im like a city with no people

a field of muddied rocks

a lonely drained pond

empty clouds that

offer nothing

here i am

envious of the stars in their beautiful tonight 

III.

tarnished like the coffee pot of a shut-in's apartment 

reused by the same dirty hands I wrap myself up in

like a blanket of barbs

and a pillow of broken glass 

handmade by the ones who loved me and left me

the ones I loved and left 

like the book I bend at the spine

and take in the tub

knowing the steam weakens its glue

because I need company

eventually pages fall out and ink runs off

dripping onto a sheet only strong enough to hold the weight of one

Tigers and red labels roar after me

waking me from a light sleep

shaking me from tender daydreams

let me rest 

like your finest piece of china

reserved for special company that never comes

let me rest

like the dusty pen of a blocked writer

take your tigers and leave me be

like the spring wildflowers of a high moutain meadow 

Caodai

Me in Cu Chi

hmm..

yes? no.. I dont think so. I made it about 2 feet before coming back up. Hell-to-the-NO on the underground tunnel thing.

Mr. Minh and I