i can’t stifle myself anymore
these mornings are cold
soggy and blue,
i am the same as my dripping wet towel
when i lose my red cheeks
for every loss there is a gain!
this is our barter system-
milk for barley
No worries Acha
Fitful dream of last night,
Tearful eyes in the morning.
I began rewriting my incomplete poem for you
The Red Forehead
Yet the same voice that calls you
Calls me
To invoke the mountain gods
To tell the warriors’ tales
To be a bit more like you.
she whom i follow in my dreams
In my dreams, / we kissed atop a mountain
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The little one / walks through the cable, / black and stretched,
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Rubbing against stones and the cracks, / I stumbled inside a black hole, / The darkness aside,
Dremo
Pass not through the crooked path, / for it has the fangs awaiting you, / The blood shall suffice
Your Death
I saw your death yesterday in your fingers. / It was death like people had in the old days.
Waterfall: An Epilogue
For you who wrote about the promise of waterfall / Who freed my spirit with the force of language
Tibetan Nights
The only thing that breathes is the sound of engine / Relentless in its climb against the steep rugged pass
Once I had a Home
Once I had a home / A paradise called Sun City Lhasa / Once I knew a peaceful moon and blue sky
To You from Exile
Since no cranes are left / I can only send my / Message with the winds; …
On the Wing
’… … to Lithang and back’ / That’s what he said
Nomad III Revisited
He slowly gathers up his shaggy herd / To prepares them for the lowlands,
If I Die
If I die my dear ones / Don’t cry for me / For I never cried for anyone
I wish to be Buddha
You are nothing but everything / So simple yet so complicated
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I am just a soul in a fixed / Crying for the right direction / My mind is so mixed
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when they call me / by a quarter / of the name i was given / by my lama,
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teach me how to be / gesar’s daughter: / fierce / warrior-like / firm in the war for truth