~Sappy Daze~ Day 11

Taiwan is the Sweltering Heat 

where stray cats purr and street 
food hisses. Stinky tofu stinks 
of unassumed deliciousness,
daring the foreigner to try it. 

Umbrellas are used 
on sunny days but can’t 
protect you from getting wet, 
so changing clothes three 
times a day is a must. 

The clothes first stained 
with sweat are then hung 
up to dry on the rusty chains 
crisscrossing the balcony, 
a constant victim of the 
perpetrator that is the weather. 

- Sappy

~Sappy Daze~ Day 10

May is Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month

Ching Chang Chong

Ching-ching is the sound of a 
cash register: the sound of money.
It’s the sound of an American 
dream achieved by a Chink.
But the Chink named Chang 
dreamed a pipe dream of fame 
only to pave a track to gold 
not meant for oriental freaks, 
because they were 虫, insects, 
and an invasive species from 
the Pacific named the yellow 
peril and came in terrifying
rising tides that never grew weak.

- Sappy

~Sappy Daze~ Day 9

I Bet Your Parents Made Love in a Bed 

of bright marigolds and cosmos. 
That would explain your innate 
stubbornness, like when you sprouted 
in May, too eager 

to grant your mother
the sweet poison of a lily 
of the valley, 
which is motherhood.

Although it’s not as beautiful as 
the red tulip she raised, I hope 
she likes the hydrangeas I gave. 

I’ve been wanting to gift more.

While their brilliant red still 
doesn’t compare to the adorable 
pink blooming on you, 

Look, the carnations we planted 
have beautifully bloomed. I’m 
determined to grow peonies with 
you, too. I’ve already decided that 

when I lie in my deathbed, nobody shall 
give me white lilies. Instead, they’ll 
give me poppies, for the wound you left 
when you left me: 

Its medicine will grant me peace in death, 
just like the peace your lavender gave me.

- Sappy

~Sappy Daze~ Day 8

This poem was selected for PoetTreeTown2023

I know I’m indecisive, but I think I know how I feel.

I feel just a little confused, but I know how I feel, I think.

I think I feel too much, I know.

This is just how I am.

I am, I believe, how I like.

I feel like I think I know I am how I like, I believe.

- Sappy

~Sappy Daze~ Day 7

This poem has been posted outside Avalon Cafe & Bakery for PoetTreeTown2024


To see past the horizon,
your poker face 
blocking the farthest secrets, 
is what I wish upon a star. 

No matter the angle, 
your one-sidedness makes me 
curious about your constellation 
of 88 thoughts. 

Are you a Scorpio?

I examine telescopically, but 
the milky way, the nebulas in 
your eyes draw me
over the moon, 
and the slightest glance away 
carries seasonal depression.

So before this unknowing atmosphere suffocates me, 
although my heart beating ultraviolet already is, 
I’m confessing out of the blue.

- Sappy

~Sappy Daze~ Day 6

On Reserve

I’m not very well-read. Especially 
when it comes to you. You’re a 
closed book, whereas I belong in 
the children’s section. Thankfully, 
you’re a bookworm. You didn’t 
judge me by my cover when I 
checked out at the library, unable 
to take my eyes off the page and
too engrossed in the story of 
you and me that I plotted out. 
I may be illiterate, but in my books, 
I’m a pretty good author, though
I wasn’t always good with words. 
Talking to the text had me on the 
edge of my seat. I wanted to book it: 
the ticket to the next chapter in our 
lives, until the falling action and 
resolution scared me. To drown out 
the words, you gifted me a photo 
album. The best possible genre for 
our favorite memories: dancing in 
the library at 2 in the morning, 
browsing books at the bookstore we 
couldn’t afford, fighting our hopeless 
finals with senseless doodles. It’s due 
soon: the audiobook I’ll give you. I 
wrote out and narrated our future life 
possibilities, like the adventurous 
romantic fantasy I planned right 
from the start at the library.

- Sappy