Tag Archives: Poetry

My Poetry, Poetry

City Symphony – Nina

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For eternity; I walk these city blocks like Enoch

God with me or not.

Its Poetry.

Infinite street tops and Calligraphy stained walls

Read the bombs like psalms; calmly carress

Finesse with pens; aggressively pressed

Against the concrete; my nikes

Sun up till sun down

I’ll have come up before I come down

Running around grounded;

With my head in the clouds

Night flights exite my kites

Urban junglist; with psychlobin fungus

Or tetra hyrdo -eyes-low-

And I know theres…

A million stories in the naked city

I take em with me

City misery and the polar opposite symphonies…

Nina

Buddhism, Mahayana Buddhism, My Poetry, Poetry, Stories, Zen

Taoist Mystic – Nina

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There was nothing, became everything, words devastating.

The tongue is far sharp-er sword. Bit-er sweet words

They ink jot and plot on pages

Captivating your mind, your captive in this ancient

Way. Since pyramids you peer-amidst scripture

The script will surely fit-the-picture

Graffiti-esque hieroglyphs; of time

In rhyme-form or devine-chords

Forever and ever and ever… trying to define more

Writers n biters, stolen ideas are the highest potential in-sequential

Prior to this something there was a comforting nothing

Simplistic-mystic-blissful-infinitely-intimate

Nothing.

Source: Taoist Mystic by Nina Yin

My Poetry, Poetry, Vancouver Street Photography, Writing

Journaling the bus. – Nina

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I was sitting in the borough; waiting for the bus….; crazy traffic so I pull out my tablet and start to type. The whole neighborhood is gridlock but the bus arrives 20 minutes later. The city is in a misty haze as I cross the Queensborough bridge; rain tattering windows and playing in the traffic . The usual rush hour traffic and people row after row simply stare at their phones. …I look up and ok up and I’m at 22nd… and it’s already iIt’s time to hop the next bus…

I sit here in my own little world amidst a bus full of people… Time going by very slowly as we go and stop and stop and go. These moments are perfect imagery of the 21st century as I look up at the bus advertisements “All ages. All genders. All orientations… Opt: Options for sexual health”. Safe sex busriders! And To the left of it is a security camera watching and listening to us all. The cameras never stop me from doing graffiti on the trains and bus’s; ” I just doubt anyone in authority really gives a fuck”. As I throw something up. Heh….
It sucks that I don’t have headphones as I type away because the noises I’m subject to in this moment are rather distracting and actually quite aggravating in the morning… I’m tired andn It sounds like 4 different conversations at once; all in Filipino… with the bleeps n buttons of the bus… reminds me of trying to watch cartoons while peaking on mushrooms ( I used to really like mushrooms) But I”m indifferent about public transit. Do I love it? Do I hate it? I’m not really sure. But i got to go pick up some dough for rent, the trip was inevitable. A cold rainy day in July!!! how odd. Even for Vancouver n. I’m freezing….

I kick my feet up and try to get comfy. Passing high rise towers. Farms. Shops. Rivers. This particular ride has nothing to really look at so… I guess it’s a good time to write. It’s almost time to get off for bus number 3. Sigh…. got to get money Nina…
Hopped on the next and I’ve reached the upscale neighborhood of Marpole or… South Granville on route to downtown. Starting to get extremely bored and I haven’t even arrived yet. I close my eyes and I’ll let the world pass without thought…. blink of an eye. Mission complete.

My Poetry, Poetry

Rampart my darkness. – Nina

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Whatdyaa say we rampart my darkness?

Find out why my back arches

Lets play truth or dare

But a far more ruthless stare

From my innocent eyes

Watch me deminish my life to the abysmal truth

I live in disguise

I’ll tease you with my innocence

Reach out to touch and it diminishes

To a screaming demon with no rhyme or reason

Arching my back

Come back I’ll please you…

Drawn in my my fingertips

I’m the master of my own exploitation

A buck naked damnation

I’m demeaning myself

Demons revealing themselves

I’m a doctrine of my own toxins

Choking myself of oxygen

I cut my own lifeline

Watch the rope wither away

Falling for years

It’s Always been this way.

Theres only that one fucking moment in the day

Telling you to give the fuck up or keep going or to lay down and die or to run far far away

This isn’t the last time for me to lay down and die

I’ll die tomorrow and the next day and the next

Dying to have another step to take in any direction that isn’t “here”

Using all sorts of escape mechanisms

But the traps Ive created are far too real

Far too painful and I will never heal

I will never run away from this

Ever again

Revealed.