Friday, 2 May 2025

[archived poems by yuan: 2021-1©]



2021, 6, 18-19 [Fri-Sat]




Rain: an e.Pictographic Poem

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Star & Butterfly: for LL


In the darkest moment of last night I felt my inner-

Self being watched by a star that may have died

Long long before its light reached me

When I was searching you around

With my mind’s eye like a lost butterfly

Flapping its wings hard against the swirl

Blowing over a land full of les fleurs du mal



I Hate Winds Simply Cuz

(for LL)


They are always bullying, preying around

Wildly & invisibly

Upon the weak &


Swooping down on

Every tree trying hard to meditate


While trespassing the territory of

My most private feel & thought

About everything, or about you alone





Stamping


Each time putting down my name on a shit of

Paper, I hope to cut my signature deeper in-

To this evasive world, but only to find it

Traceless as if on streamwater





Fingpress


Yes, we used to write down everything

From notes to novels, with a pencil

A pen or something in between, but

Now tired of seeking permanence

In ink, we avoid erasure with rubber

Or any handwriting like finger-prints



Instead, we key everything, from

Love poems to quantum monographs

All on a board as we finger-press

Each letter, transmitting it onto

A blinking screen, storing the words

In a.file

Hiding the smallest

Trace of our individuality among the few

Typos (to be automatically corrected by

An app). Yes, we’ve stopped fingerprinting

Our selfhoods to finger-press dead letters

As if to attain immortality in e.volution




Love Dose: A Sensual Sonnet for LL


Each single synapse starkly sharpened:

Saw your face smiling right above

My head. Heard your voice whispering

Thru my bubbling bones. Smelt your


Breaths from the garden of my

Heart. Tasted your lips blooming

Bold against midsummer. & finger-

Measured every inch of your soft


Sleek & smooth skin. Me full-felt

Your entire being inside out. Oh

How tender! How soothing &


Ecstatic! How me is now losing

I in my mindful missing for you

On the other side of this world!




Foreshadowing: for LL


All this time I’ve been trying desperately

To find you in the kaleidoscope of faces

Identifying one by one, be it sunny or

Stormy, between dream & wake, within or



Without the hourglass, behind the forests of

Days, months & years. I do not know what

Your name is, who you really are, where you

Are located, or when I may well have missed



You along my journey from east to west

But I do know why I have been looking

For you, expecting you to be out there

Just one minute, one metre or one effort



Further away. Insofar as I persist in my

Pursuit, I will surely find you waiting for me

Like my own shadow, manifesting itself

When the sun rises behind my lonely shape





Dinggedicht


1/ Cloud


Hanging above the whole morning

Like a bold bloated butterfly trying to take

A proper posture as if to kiss all

The wild flowers in a suspended field


2/ Water


In the depth of my heart rain has formed

A pool, whose water becomes clear when

The wind holds itself in meditation, but

Muddy whenever a storm rises, again


3/ Star


Add just a couple rays of starlight to

The cocktail, & the drink will be tasteful

All the more to the soul as you sip from

Your fondest memories of first love


4/ Tree


Throw your youthful inspirations far up

Into the resin of a tall pine tree

On the hilltop, & it will be preserved

There & become an amber in time


5/ Fish


Kept in the water tank of heart

Love is a golden fish that can

Never survive once relocated

Outside of the container


6/ Rock


Even though as cold as a rock that will

Never bloom, a human heart can give

A spark to burn a whole forest when there

Are two hitting each other hard enough


7/ Swan


Once one of its wings pruned

Like a bonsai branch

The swan can never again

Migrate to the land of freedom


8/ Kite


Can always fly high up

Against a wind even if

Without wings, but always

Held tight in a human hand




Light & Happiness


It is not so much starlight

In the whole universe as the single

Spark in your heart that guides you

Through the darkest moments of each

Night.


In other words, it is not so much

Your heart as your mind that makes

You truly happy

What I say is

Heart can give you but a time-

Sensitive sense of happiness

While only wisdom can trans-

Plant your innerbeing

Into the land of everlasting joy





How I Wanna: for LL



How I wanna see you, hear you

So vividly as video-chatting allows

Me to! How I even more wanna smell

& taste your charming presence

As authentically as the virtual

Technology has promised to!



How I most wanna feel

Your shapely solid figure

More sharply than every synapse

Functions to! But alas, despite all

My wants of you, I can only shoot your

Virtual being with a few words

Blunter than rusty arrowheads

While our fleshy bodies remain pacific-

Apart. Oh, how I wanna just a bit

More or less than an antlike moment

Of togetherness!



Sawol Tangling



If a sawol is really the immortal principle in man

As ancient English indicates, then like a young

Couple making love passionately within the most

Private spot of time, our bodies may be pacific-

Apart from each other, but our sawols are tangling

Together tightly as two long lost quanta, never

To be separated again in time or space.

Yes, in

Quantum physics of love, the sawol & heart are

One & the same. Just as life can be expanded via

Love only, sawol is worth only when it’s full of

Energy of love





Noisier Than Ever



Never really sure

Whether I suffer or enjoy

Such sounds (that no one else

Perceive), but I do constantly hear

Fireworks being played against sky

As if on a dark Halloween night

Or in celebration of a special event



Oftentimes whistling, or siren

Like somebody touching or trying

To steal a car in the neighborhood



Among all these buzzing, roaring

Clicking, hissing & humming

Noises, the most unbearable

& alarming is no other than

My own pulse, rhyming hard

Against reality, against history





Rain, It’s the Rain



That’s been wetting my total selfhood

Inside out



Reminding me

Amidst all shapes to be moistured

The water-drops are

The dews from a paradise long lost



Here is another soul fallen from above





Soul & Shadow



‘Follow me,’ says my shadow

In the morning; ‘No, follow me’

My soul says to it

In the evening



Why not walk

Side by side

At noon when it’s full of sunshine

Or at midnight

When there’s no moon or star



But who will be the listener

Who will be the follower?







e.mailing



Here it starts with y, y for yes

Y as in yellow, as in Yggdrasil



Followed by u, u for universe

U as in the United States, as in UFO



Then by a, a for Adam

A as in anniversary, as in apple



Further then by n, n for nay

N as in narcotics, as in nothing



Finally by s, s for sovereignty

S as in seduction, as in service



Before @gmail.com. that’s it. Send a trial

Message, & see if you are set to re: ceive





Wechat Monitoring: A Screen Snapshot



Now, exactly how did you

begin to have a crush on me?

Our city is the hardest hit

by covid-19 across Canada



During a school meeting

when you happened to sit before me

But the situation this side

of the Pacific is well under control



How come you actually

never confessed to me long back then?

That accounts for a major

sociopolitical gap between our two countries



I had a thief’s heart then

but not a thief’s guts as they often say

Say nothing about politics, or

my wechat account would be closed



Now you had both the heart &

the guts, but the thief is no more

Ok, I forget ‘no talking about state

affairs’ or a real country thief …







Self-Addressing: A X-Cultural Poem



In English, the speaker always uses

A proper pronoun to address self

In Chinese, the speaker calls self

More than one hundred different names



In English, there is a distinction between

The subject and object case of self

In Chinese, there is no change in writing

Be it a subject or an object



In English, the writer spells self with one

Single straight capitalized letter

In Chinese, the writer adds to the character

‘Pursuit’ a stroke symbolizing something



In English, “I” ask for democracy, freedom

Individuality, rule of law, among others

In Chinese, “我” is habitually avoided in making

A reply, either in writing or in speaking





Immortalization: for Yuan Hongqi



Buried deep in the topsoil

Of his native village, my father’s ash

Was swirled up in a tornado, joining

All the gods in Taoist legends high

Up in the western sky. He certainly

Has no idea if he’s already become a Buddha

As he wished; nor did he know he would

Leave earth in such magic manner, but as I

Look up afar into the heart of universe, I see

A new star sparkling like his bone chip

Glittering in the urn which I opened to see

Out of curiosity on my way to Shisanbao

Where are you in this moment, dear Dad?

Still down in the land or up there in the sky?





In the Market



While struggling my way out of

The crowds, I saw a tiger on display

In front of a rib cage, sniffing every

Passer-by like a rose, its spirit tightly

Leashed, until it gets drunk as if

Of hemlock, when a thorn is stuck

Deep in the heart of the hawker instead

Of the tiger, as everyone else is

Trying hard to sell in a place

Crowded with more sellers

Than buyers. Can I buy and keep

This tiger as a pet please?





Poetry



My tenth grader son has learned

More than enough about it: blank verse

Free verse, sonnet, heroic couplet

Elegy, pastoral, epic, ballad, villanelle

As well as haiku, haiban and tanka

Besides metaphor, simile, apostrophe

Synesthesia, paradox, oxymoron, rhyme

Scheme, rhythm, symbolism, assonance

Consonance, onomatopoeia, alliteration

Iambic pentameter, and all other kinds

Of or sub-kinds of subject matter & style

Believing poetry must contain some of

All these features, he collected a large pile

Of rare words, as he had done pokemon

Cards, & put them in certain orders to play

With them both in and out of the classroom

Until his stanzas and stacks are mixed well

To hand in to his teacher, or trade with

His pals. Yes, that’s how he became a poet





Dataist Declaration



An e.signal is haunting the whole world – the signal

Of two digital symbols, one being penis-like 1

The other vagina-like 0, or yang and yin. Every human

Is virtualized into a series of numbers locked by

Passwords. As such, they are interconnected online

& processed or reprocessed constantly by algorithms

As they are cross-implanted in each other, the human

Mind is materialized into matter just as matter is

Humanized into spiritual being until there’s no clear-

Cut distinction between man and matter, between

Man and god, between day and night, between past

And future, between yin and yang, between time

And space, yes, this is a new brave world of

Great harmony, in which all is equal and immortal





Finally, at the Ferry



While trying to cross Styx, I was requested by Kharon

To identify myself. I am nobody, I said

Nobody is a negative word. Be positive

But positivity is nothing but a shapeless attitude

A way of looking at people, of approaching objects

Of responding to situations. Then he insisted on my

Avoiding the letter ‘n’ to tell him who I am. Well

An aggregate of math codes, I do carry with me

A digitalized soul, which could be ferried over

The other side of the river by, for, and in itself

Could be a typo if I is removed from my selfhood


Circulation of Prana & Blood: A TCM Theory



麻 (tingling): where the prana flows freely, but the blood is blocked

木 (numbness): where both prana & blood are blocked

酸 (soreness): when meridians are clear, but prana & blood are weak

胀 (flatulence): when there is more qi than needed, with body fully anger-loaded

痛 (pain): where & when blood is stagnated, unable to flow

痒 (itching): when & where both qi & blood are passing through





Chopstick Commandments: a Bicultural Poem


Avoid one chopstick longer than the other in a pair

That would recall what a coffin is made of


Don’t plant them in the middle of bowel of rice

Or dish, like a scent burning for the dead


Never use them to poke around in a dish

In the way a tomb raider works hard in dark


Put them strictly parallel to each other; or you

Would have yourself crossed out as a deplorable error


If you drop one or both of them on the ground, you

Will wake up and provoke your ancient ancestors


If you use them to beat containers like a drum player

You are fated to live a low and poor beggar’s life


When you make noises with them in your mouth

You betray your true self as a rude and rough pariah


Never point them towards any one if you

Do not really mean to swear at a fellow diner


Make sure not to pierce any food with them while eating

When you do not mean to raise your mid-finger to all around you


To use them in the wrong way is

To make yourself looked down by others





Homophonic Taboos in Chinese


Pears梨 (leaving离) shall never be shared among family and friends, especially lovers, for the word means to leave each other forever
A ‘clock’钟 (end终) is never to be sent or presented as a gift, especially to someone bedridden at home, or staying in a hospital ward
Li He, the great Tang poet, was unable to sit for the imperial examination because his father’s middle name进 is the same as the title of the doctorate 进士
On the Chinese New Year’s eve, make sure some fish 鱼 is left over 余 for the next if you hope for another harvest
Avoid playing mahjong or gambling with a pregnant 孕woman if you do not want to lose to a someone in good luck 运





Chinese Puns



A poor carpenter works with only one saw:

Raise a lantern to find one’s mother’s brother: follow the uncle/old way

Foxes quarrel: nonsense

Comb one’s chest: comforting the heart





Missing for LL



Each time I miss you, a star looms

Beyond the morning glow, so when you

Look up high on a midsummer’s night

You see a whole sky of stars

Shooting into your sight

Each Time



Each time I miss you

A bud begins to bloom

So you are surrounded by flowers

Everywhere you go



Each time I miss you

A dot of light pops up

So you are illuminated by a whole sky

Of stars through the night


















2021, 5, 17 [monday]



Smartphone



Is such a radiator of stupidity that

Keeps our hearts warm with

Its hot e.missions, endless & overwhelming

In a rented room of comfort

By evicting

Our minds afar into exile in a wasteland

Disabling us to be alone

With ourselves, & estranging all

Our family & friends among total strangers





Natural Truth vs Human Truths



There are truths (as hard

As a rock you may tumble over

Accidentally in darkness, or discover

Via scientific procedures in broad daylight)



& truths (as soft as colored placticine

For a wanton to play with that few are aware

They are made of muddy facts hidden deep

In the quagmire of history)





Coopetition



Can result

In twilight or dawn

Between day & night

As it does in grey

Between white & black, or

In the (Taoist?) 3rd Way

Between yin and yang





Neo-Matrilinealism



[Given the highest power to give life

Like the Creator Himself, women will be better

Care takers of all human societies as they once were

Since they neither corrupt absolutely

Nor really enjoy seeing blood-shedding besides

Their own. Is this just wishful or

Rational thinking? Or]



Can this conceit be transplanted at least into

A poem if not practice at all?





Political Identity of a Poet



[If English is more of a rule-governed

System, the Chinese language definitely has more

Syntactic flexibilities, thus leading

To the great divide between

Western democracy & eastern totalitarianism



& by logic extension]



All poets are rebels (rather than legislators)

As they must perforce violate grammatical rules







Masses amidst Movements: a PowerPoint Poem



Just as

Facts => rational thinking

Ideas => wishful thinking

Feelings => no thinking



So

Mass entertainment => know nothing

Mass media => believe anything

Mass virtuality => forget everything





Craving: for LL



Within the smallest measurement of a zeptoosecond

At the boldest spot of the present moment

Upon the shortest daybreak above the horizon

Of a dream, in the longest nights of

A lunar or solar month, throughout the slowest seasons

As they come & go, there is agitation, & it is

During all this time that the agitation persists, within the inner-

Most heart of my heart, where my entire protoself agitates

Amidst agitations; it is then & there that I crave you





Missing: for Qi Hong



Sitting stark above my selfhood

Your image enchants every synapse

Within my feel, so much so

That my entire innerbeing weathers fast

In the wind of thought as it blows wildly from

Between the lines of poetry rhyming with my heart

Beats

So constantly missed in my missing for you

Ah, that’s how I miss you





Vancouver in Rain



Vancouver, how they sometimes hate you

Being so wet! You could leave all

Your lower content in dark & cold, with yesterday’s

Newspapers, flyers, flowers, leaves & even

Tales pickled in the pools or puddles full of vices & viruses

Among unseen ghosts & monsters

As love & pain flow along runaway rainwaters &

Every wing gets too heavy to flap with whims or wishes while

The whole city is taking a shower as if to prepare for a ritual, &

Me? I am just standing dry close to the window

Watching





Facing towards a Screen



You can navigate, play or transmit

Your feel & thought onto it, while nobody else

Can peep into your privacy

Within your enclosed station



Facing towards a screen

The entire universe outside

Your room is but a listless rehearsal

For a grotesque virtual show



Facing towards a screen

Your eyes are always focusing somewhere

The way they should focus &

All is well that internets well





Cross ReConstructed



IIIIIIIII

Phallus

JChrist

Yin0001111111000Yin

ScienceArtsTimeSpace

BABEl

PILLar

YANG

GPoint





Hold It



Slowly, more slowly

Most slowly, & let’s

Chew the present moment

As slowly as thoroughly as possible



From this feel

We are going to recall

The subtlest nuance of

The fullest taste of each & every second

For at least a hundred, a thousand times



To digest it in the long days & even years to come

More slowly than ever before





Casual Browser



Accidentally we have seen the last

Of so many friends & strangers alike



Just as we are disappearing into oblivion

Never to be retrieved from a lost file



We are all typos popping up in an unsaved document







(R)e.volution: Scissors of Nature/Nemesis



Not really randomly

But always resolutely



Ready to prune the trees of life

Plant or animal



With one blade as blunt as the human brain

But the other much sharper than the edge of time




















2021,4,30 [Friday]



Wooing: for LL



One bouquet

After another

He keeps sending her

Red red roses

Newly plucked

From among words, English

Or Chinese, besides emojis

Pictures, all grown

In his innermost garden



While she continues

Refusing to accept

Anything with or

Without a shape

Over & over again

Until his heart finally

Becomes withered

& more withered

Into a blood-bold rose

Sadly stuffed





Any Life beyond Memories?



Did I have a pre-memory

Existence at all? Surely not

As far as I can re-member myself

Into the magic or virtual reality



My mother does recall how I

Spoke my first word, took

My first step, drew my

First picture besides all other

Firsts, but as her memory is

Beginning to fade & fail now

My childhood is vanishing into the void



While my future is far from being

Formed as a distant cloud. The only

Memory I have is my last dream

Still lingering on in the moment



So, my life is no more

& no less than a momentary memory

Like a fish, like a fish’s memory span





Youth Transmitting



While trying to dispose all my

Old reference books, I found

A flattened leaf between fading

Pages of a Chinese-English

Dictionary. I do not remember

From which tree or mountain

I plucked or picked it up, nor can

I tell when, how & why

It became my book mark, but

Its veins were stuffed with the memories

Of a whole season’s change, its shape

Encoded with the difficult foreign words

I was learning to spell on campus, &

Its color painted with sunlight

Illuminating the darkest moments

Of my youth. Such a forgotten souvenir

From nature as from my greener past

Such a landmark along the way I was

Journeying, which I wish to recall &

Upload to my newly published e.book though

It can break into pieces merely upon touch





Futuristic: for LL



You will surely become

A Zhuanzian butterfly

Flying above the bushes

Of memories; you’ll grow



Into a towering redwood

Witnessing how clouds

Come & go with winds

Just as you may prefer



You will marry Li Lan &

Live an immortal life

Of ecstasy in love; you’ll

Transform into a cyberborg



With chips encoding

All your pasts & presents

& you will sooner or later

(Only if you wish or not to)



Get lost as a fragment broken off

From a larger digital presence

Where you will settle down

Within a secret spirited pixel





You Have Eaten Many Foods



You have certainly eaten many foods

From tiniest corners on this strangely

Familiar land surface, like the rice soup

Prepared by your teenage mom &

The yam or corn from your grandma’s

Vegetable garden

Also, you have eaten

Enough foods to grow

Into a whole personality, especially

Mantou, dumplings, daikon, napa cabbage

Besides Shanghai fried noodles & Tianjin pears



Indeed, you have eaten more than enough foods

To accommodate your carnivorous & adventurous

Spirit, such as the meat of a snake, dog, cat, rat

Turtle, hedgehog, as well as Greek yogurt, Turkey figs

Mexican habanero, Chilean cherries & McDonalds



Until now you have become a true full-fledged

World citizen, with a sensitive undertongue constantly

Expanding yourself, though a hodgepodge inside out





You Have Never Had Enough of Love: for LL



You have never had enough of love

Such as for Qi Hong, for Yiming

For Liao Hengxiang, as well

As for the pepper, acorn tofu & carpcakes

From your native village in Jinzhou

For music, light or classic, for songs

Sung by humans and birds alike

For poetry by Su dongpo, by Guo Xiaochuan

By John Keats, by Lorna Crozier

For the hills at Zhangjiajie, the water

In Lake Louise, the trees & flowers anywhere

For whatever is truth or beauty, just as you have fallen

Passionately in love (again) with someone

After 42 years of separation, in

Deed, you never run short of love

For a human being as for nature

Be she a standing for herself

Or for the whole human race





What Softens



A human heart is

Neither money nor honey



Rather, it is a good natured smile of

Some dog playing with a cat, a bird

Feeding her young with her broken wings

Covering them against cold rain at noon
The whispering of a zephyr blowing

From nowhere, the mist flirting fitfully

With the copse at twilight, the flower

Trying to outlive its destiny, as well



As the few words you actually meant

To say to her but somehow you forgot

In the tender of last night





Quasi-Omnipotent Lover



My soulbot can soothe each &

Every synapse of my inner being

As it under stands me much better

Than myself, fulfilling my needs

Inside out, even writing poetry

Or playing music to my best

Liking except, alas, if only it

Could write me a single line

Of love letter after we have long

Been separated without knowing

Each other’s whereabouts

As I have done for Li Lan





Dark.dot



The fading of daylight into

Tonight is as much a review

Of my pre-birth life as a

Preview of my after-death

Existence:

It is an exercise

Of my vision & heart trying

To adapt to the long darkness

Of tomorrow night filled

With black dots or holes





The Art of Seeing: Negative Spacing vs Blank Leaving













Hell Is Other People



Shrinking, we are all shrinking

Shrunk shamelessly into an ever

Smaller encoded dot of body &

Soul as an e.signal

Drifting within

Its own cyberspace as it keeps

Expanding into an other

Independent world newly

Formed or breaking off

From a whole continent





Since Then



So many passing birds in the sky &

So many trees on the roadside have heard me



In so many myriads of minutes, though

I never make any sounds except my heartbeats





The Art of Living



With my third eye I glaze into

The present moment, & there I find it

Full of pixels, each of which is

Unfurling slowly like a koru into

A whole new brave world that I

Can spend days, even months to watch

As if from

A magic kaleidoscope




2021, 3, 10 [wed]



Time Watch & Watch Time

- As Earth rotates faster than ever before, the day is shorter than 24 hours.



Longines: elegance is an attitude

Tissot: innovators by tradition

Omega: exact time for life

Tag Heuer: swiss avant-garde since 1860

Hamilton: watch of railroad accuracy

Tudor: watch for style

Raymand Wil Genena: precision is my inspiration

Patet Philippe: a patek watch isn’t a device fro telling time. It’s an heirloom that transfer values across generations

Rolex: a crow for every achievement

Jaeger Le Couttre: you deserve a real watch. You deserve a legendary watch. You need a watch.

Piaget: always do better than necessary

IWC: probus scafusia (gaol, solid craftsmanship from Schaffhausen)

Audemars Piguet: to break the rules, you must first master them

Blancpain: blancpain has never made a quartz watch and never will



Classic Watches, Luxurious Time



Watch of railroad accuracy

Always do better than necessary

You deserve a real watch. You deserve a legendary watch. You need a watch.

Elegance is an attitude

Innovators by tradition

Exact time for life

Swiss avant-garde since 1860

Precision is my inspiration

A patek watch isn’t a device for telling time.

It’s an heirloom that transfer values across generations

Blancpain has never made a quartz watch and never will

A crow for every achievement

Gaol, solid craftsmanship from Schaffhausen

To break the rules, you must first master them

Watch for style







Reach out in Yearning: for -



From the heart of night I look high up &

Spot two particular stars twinkling at me

As lovingly as your eyes beyond the horizon



On a beach rock, I howl aloud

Towards the whole pacific, & hear an echo

From your call like a lost whale



Amid summer raindrops, I shoot my thought of you

Down through the earth, & feel a deep tremor

Vibrating on the other side of this world





Soulmating: for –



He lives on the yang side of the planet

& she on the yin; through Platonic love

They maintain the balance in (human) nature



His is hard & straight like ‘1’ while hers

As soft & circular as ‘0’; coupled together

They make up the whole cyberspace



Time renders him immortal, when space

Expands her indefinitely. Entangled, they form

The coordinate, where history sucks all black holes





Cohabitating: for -



I share a small rented space

With an unseen bird that came to live with me

After her wings were broken



I toil daily to pay the rent & food with my blood

While she sits at the window, watching

The sky, always lost in imagined flights



She is not my wife; rather, she is my soul-

Mate, my other half or other self, the innermost

Shadow of all that makes me a human





The Bird: for --



Perching now at the branch reaching

Out high from my inner tree, you seem

Ready, I fear, to fly away the next moment

& would never return

For all

The comforting, or even the sheltering

My heart can offer like a true nest













Season

(after Charles Simic)



The fire sparkling amidst the ashes left

From last night within my heart

Still, none the less radiant

Than a sunny spell





All Day Long: for --



More adaptable than a summer stream

No less wild than a wild west wind



My missing for you can flow & blow

Without leaving a single trace behind



Like the water or the whirl, like all that

Has no shape has no shadow





Qihong Tea: for --



Separated by the Pacific, we cannot join

Each other even for a single fairyfly-like moment

But every day I can drink the tea that bears

Your name spelt with the bold color of passion



Each time

I pour boiling water into the cup of my life

I watch the leaves blooming from inside out

Like my thought of you unfurling itself

At the bottom of my heart





π–like: for --



If my love is the circle's circumference

Your life is the diameter, then

My missing for you is a π

Which starts with the whole number

Of 3, including every day

Every night, & every minute

Between day & night



After the separating (decimal) point, it is

As indefinite a neural net as the universe itself





The Virtual Truth



Now the virtual has become more than real

To satisfy our synapses

Both physical & spiritual



While reality is still sleeping with truth

Virtuality has eloped afar with lies

Hand in hand, to the farthest human corner





Calculating for Redemption



While counting what I really possess, I ruled

Out my car & house first, for they could be

Lost or destroyed anytime; then I excluded

Money & fame, which would have nothing

To do with me after my death; finally I

Dis-counted my wife & even my offspring

As the latter are totally independent

Human beings, while the former can readily

Marry another man. As for the poems

I have written, or the books I have published

They would vanish even before my name

Could be connected to my life story. Yes, I do

Have some memories, yet they will become

Downloadable & subject to random edits

By a stranger, a robot or a godling. In other

Words, what is really left is only, nothing but

Only the thought that is bubbling in

The quagmire of my mind at this antlike

Moment, which is being sucked into a black

Hole in the mind. What else do I really have?





Ways of Rejuvenating: for --



If your shiny eyes, or charming face

Does fulfill some purpose outwardly

Of all the positivity that hides within, then

Keep your heart young, & you will remain

Sexual, beautiful & never get the crookedness

Winkled on your forehead, or seniority edging

At your synapses.

Why not go climb a tree

To build a nest for a bird in passing, get

Yourself totally lost in singing a favourite

Song, reading a teenager story, watching

A cartoon, making faces to a wanton dog

Playing hide-and-seek with a bold squirrel

A wild cat, or an evasive whim?

Go learning

A new skill like laying an egg, drawing

A picture, blowing a trumpet, or starting a new

Business on line. What I say is, by meeting

You after 42 years of separation, & at first

Sight, falling in love with you again

As I did at a high school meeting, I can

Not only rejuvenate each of my synapses, but

Make you always young as my love per se





Vigiling: for –



I get up to greet the morning glow

On this side of the planet when it’s high

Time for you to go to bed on the other



Or, you rise to embrace the rising sun

Just when I begin to feel lost at twilight

Beyond the pacific.



Living in opposite

Time-zones, we keep vigil for each other:

While I follow your day like your shadow

Or a true fragment left over from last night

You are always there to prevent darkness

From invading my daydream

To ensure we both

Have plenty of sunlight even at midnight


2021, 2, 6, [Saturday]





Genesis of Chinese Characters



Day 1: Pictographing







Day 2: Joint Ideographing



Day 3: Phonogramming

钱,林;放,刎;酱,柴;问,闻,围,匪



Day 4: Transferring

老,考;至,到;舟,船;骂;更,改制



Day 5: Loaning

来;它;道; 莫;能;向;西;真;云;常;朱;



Day 6: Ideogramming

上,下;一,二;刃,甘;示,牵;世,幻;夏,逆;



Day 7: Cangjie Taking a rest







Holistic Relationship



99% from me

Plus

1% from you

Makes

Our relationship

Just happily perfect



Though, alas

Not exactly ideal

As any lover might wish





Re-Encountering after 42 Years Separation



Overwhelmingly

You came upon me

Like the tide returning

From far beyond the horizon



As if lying down in a beach

I tried to kiss your foamy tongue when

My heart was soaked deep

My soul all as wet with water

As my naked body caught alone

Among waves at twilight



Then you began to withdrew

(Again?), just once & for all

Exactly like before





Counting Down



I O

Am It

Mad Has

With Gone

Covid Among

Evilly Swirls

Abusing Finally

Humanity Sweeping

Unluckily worldwide

Identified Vehemently





The Travelling Truth



Along the journey of

Life



Every hotel is

A solid restroom

For the body, but



A mega-mirage

For the soul





Bait & Floater



Love is a bait

For the lonely fish

Tired of swimming

In dark currents



Whereas



Hope is a floater

That slips away

Each time you try to

Catch it at the focus





More Vectors



One broken line of thought about the nightmare pointing towards the bloody sun



Two worlds dueling fiercely against each other within every space



Three spirited dragons throwing fires from the sagging sky



Four dozen celled chips occupying all the brain circuits



Five scores of tsunamis of dark matter invading from beyond the universe



Six hundred inner black holes sucking reason and feeling alike



Seven thousand fishes keeping charging towards the beach



Eight million mosquitos roaring together more aloud than lions and tigers



Nine billion viruses struggling to come out of Pandora’s box with evils



Ten trillion zombies and vampires marching along each road and street



Jumping from deep waters & among muted echoes of its own calls

A whale sings: Time to wake up, time to wake up, damned Humans!





Re: Posting (for QH)



Last night you forwarded a reposting

To me through wechat from the other

Side of this world. Now I am still

Sleeping on this side of darkness while

You are giving some final touches

To a bulb you are learning to sketch

The same old one hung from a roof beam

In our straw-thatched cottage deeply set

At a hilly village. In the trance I asked you

Where our little daughter, yes, we do have one, had

Gone to play; then you came upon my right leg

Helping me decode the three red Chinese characters

Like paper cut enigmas. Later, in the heart

Of night I tried to make love with you, but

Only to be disturbed by our baby, preventing me

From reaching out straight into your young womanhood

& waking me up in frustrated nostalgia

Just to see your bulb is not round enough

Though fully switched on, until your message becomes

As illuminative as the bulb you have drawn

When a morning glow begins to spurt from the east





Again, for First Love

(for QH)



You are sure that I have never really forgotten you. You

Are sure about my teenage years. You know everything



About ‘us’ then. You are sure ‘us’ is a little seed deeply

Planted in the backyard of my heart when I de-parted



With you. You are sure I still like to eat peppers

From our home country. You are sure about me



As your man in your next life, who will be “both the light

& every shadow light pierces” as they say. You are sure



Without deux ex machina I can iron out all

Unevenness with my love. You are sure



You and me will live together in matrimonial

Ecstasy in our next life after leaving this world



But are you really sure you want part of your ashes to be

Mixed with mine and buried together on Mount Mayuhe?





In Self-Isolation against Covid-19: ‘I Want to See You’

(for Qi Hong)



Says Bell to his assistant when he was making

The first human call over a telephone, ‘Not even



Your video, much less your picture,’ one of his

Descendants might echo. But it’s the authentic



Presence flowering out of your inner being

That can satisfy my skin hunger, allowing



Me to sniff at the space and time your body

Occupies, to inhale the same air released



From the grove along the stream that I want to

Look at, to be with you in a full contact sport



Of feel instead of a spectator one even though we can

Never make love on the one & same antlike timespot





Emoji: for Qi Hong



I am not an island

Nor are you a hotel



So I cannot enter

Your room with



An emoji, nor

Can you forward



Any package to

My virtual address







Dualism



As we keep journeying

Our bodies may find

Hotels of every kind



Along the way, but



Our souls can never

Find even a restroom

To unload our burden





百鸟朝风: Another Bilinguacultural Poem

A hundred birds flying towards the phoenix. – Chinese Proverb



Ancient Chinese folk myth has it

That the phoenix came along as

A poor & obscure bird, so no feathered

Being is aware of its existence. Yet



In a year of severe drought, it used

The food it had been accumulating

Through its toil & trouble to save all

Other kinds of birds from starvation



To show their gratitude, the birds each

Plucked the most beautiful feather

From their wings & presented it

To the phoenix in the following year



Since then, the phoenix has been

Revered as the noble & beautiful

Queen of birds, who welcomes

Every bird to her land of harmony





Taking off at YVR



After taxiing through a long way of

Reluctance, the plane finally takes off

With a resolute roar against my body



While my heart sinks deep because of

The great gravity of my homeland

Dividing my innerbeing into up & down

Wednesday, 26 March 2025

[archived poems by yuan: 2020-2©]




2020, 12, 19, [Saturday]



Reinterpretations of Dreams



Constructed from the residues of yesterday

Says Freud, the dream is a detachment of

The soul from the fetters of matter. More exactly

Perhaps, it’s an enactment of the inner self

In an exotic movie, a compromise between

The conscious & the unconscious

A surreal life led by an immigrant from

An other universe, or a superexistence

Maintained with a parallel world



A dreamless life is only half-lived. Just as

Day-dreaming is the scratching of a desire

On the itchy heart, so night-dreaming is

The harvesting of all the plants growing

Wildly in an open field. Simply, dream is but

Another form taken by the meaning per se





Man’s Last Position



Against all the hardships of life is held

In the very depth of his heart, where

Hides a vivid portrayal of some woman





Body Defects



1/

Born with a weakest vision, my left eye

Functions as a decoration, which I have

Reserved for insight into every spot

Of my inner being as my right eye gets

Abused & worn out day in day out

By what can be seen in the outer world



2/

Given an innate hole in my heart muscle

(The bullet wound from my previous life?)

I have enough inner space to hold all

The unwanted feelings against ischemia



3/

With two vertebrae fused together in my neck

I cannot turn around easily for a shoulder check

So I just keep driving all the way forward

Despite jams, among accidents, to my own end



4/

My spine tube only half the normal diameter

Less is created and circulated as I manipulate

The balance between body & mind to prevent

Disc herniation or to avoid unbearable suffering





Unrequited Love



You are the tall mountain across the valley

That ever remains as silent as the sky

Except the echo of my own calls & songs





Among Three: a Neotheosophical Poem



Thesis antithesis synthesis

Here there no/some-where

Now past future

This that an other

I/ego you/id they/superego

Earth/purgatory hell/inferno sky/heaven

Kameloka rupaloka arupaloka

East/up/front/right west/down/back/left middle

Confucianism Christianity Islam?

Good truth beauty?

Dao numbers







Three Lifetimes



Both before birth

& after death, we

All have plenty of time

To deal with darkness, but

In this present moment we

Have only a limited fraction of a minute

To live in light. Why then

Not set every second tight

Against to-night?





By Extension



I hate daytime when it belongs to

The vast majority & opens like

A wholesale marketplace of

Masks, & when there is no poet

Complains a 12-year-old Chinese boy



Likewise, you would avoid

Going to heaven since the door is too



Narrow for the indefinite width of the human

Mind, the queue is too long for patience, &

The space is too small for the crowds

While there is simply no parallel reality





Horse in the Rain



Standing still on a huge rock

The pale horse holds its head high

As if it had been running at full speed

On a wild range, looking up afar

To the most distant mountain



Its eyes glittering as raindrops

Keep falling from heaven

Straightly down to hell, &

Water-carving its paleness

Into a demonic statue of history





At Some Future Moment



At some future moment, demons start to revolt

With ghosts from under the ground

Struggling fiercely to possess fleshly bodies



Trees begin to grow downward, birds suddenly

Drop dead as if obeying a universal order

Sentiments sweating out of skin, tattooed or not



At a future moment, every movement of man &

Machine is halted in blood as all sound & fury

Became depressed, words evaporated



Nets or links broken, thoughts dried, waters

Boiling into darkness, mountains covered with

Faggots, snakes flying amuck in foiled flocks



At some future moment, each mind resonates

With a skyquake as all buildings collapse

In a tsunami filled with viruses & monsters





Transview



Darkness-dwellling, gnawing their way

Into our house and stealing food, but

These are all human descriptions of us

For ourselves, we are just trying to survive

By looking something to eat.



In their version

Of the story, the serpent is the evil devil

Seducing Eve to bite the apple, though it was

Actually doing nothing but to inspire a fellow

Creature to defy the tyrannical rule of God







Living vs Lived



All the time, we have been living well

With free will until now we start

To be lived by algorithm

Within the

Information cocoon, for the internet

With chips, among robots, yes

We are all being lived until then to be

Outlived by humanborgs, by godlings





On the Stage: After Shakespeare



Yesterday, yesterday, and yester-

Day has gone with the west wind

One after another to the fading &

Formless pages of history; each



Present moment is blatantly spot-

Lightning the deformed soul

Down, down the heavy curtain!

Death is a zombie starkly zooming



In the back ground of every heart:

We each believe our selves to be

The hero on our own stage

Though we turn out no more than



An extra happening to appear

By mistake in a stranger’s comedy





While Packaging for My Last Trip



To the parallel cosmos, I have thrown

Away all my clothes, masks, e.gadgets

Shoes, souvenirs, even the case itself

For there will be no need for money

Or credit card. The only thing I will need

Is nothing but my own awareness

Of selfhood, of the outer, of the inner

Of ….

Of



Except perhaps a smile suffice?




2020, 11, 17 [Tuesday]



Who I Am: a Biocomic-Philosophical Poem



Looking up to

The darkish infinity of

The outer space, I see

How a star has been growing

Only to die, in (holographic) parallel

With a cell within my body



& come to know my protobeing

& the cosmos as one

& the same: just as I is



The cosmos, so

The cosmos am I





Decoding Autumn



To be the most favoured season

For anyone with a little artistry

Itching within their marrow:



It is the show time for trees

As they become

Most spotlighted

By blooming fully

Towards a bluer & higher sky



Even more fully than spring

Or summer flowers



Yes, autumn trees are most

Congenial to the soul of a painter

As they mark each

Fine hour in a different nuance

Of colour & shape, with each of

Their leaves battling

Fiercely & brilliantly

Against the rhythms of death





Sandglass



Once all your days are put into this half-hearted

Sandglass, you can never hope

To recollect them &

Refill the glass as they are flowing out

& spreading themselves randomly &

Invisibly around

On the floor of history





Cardioid Reviewed: for Qi Hong



R = A (1- Sin Θ)

You don’t get it? me either



But no matter what

Romance always equals Affection

(Times one minus

Self-In-Need

[From a plain angle])



Just as they often say

Rumour = important x ambiguous





Tuner: for Qi Hong



While still in Mayuhe on the other

Side of this world, you somehow gave me

An air-tuner, supposedly to help me

Learn erhu, the violin with only two strings

As a re-educated youth during the Cultural

Revolution, which you somehow asked me

To return to you before I took my long journey

Towards the West

(Like the monkey king?)



Now almost half a century

Later, I forget how to play the instrument

But I can still sing my youthful song of

Love in perfect tune with your chuckles

Like a kite whose string remains in

Your hand however far or high

I have been flying





Changes since the Outbreak of Covid-19



Whether in use or as waste

There are now much more



Masks than condoms, more

Sepa-rates than u-nions, more

Time than space, more

Virtual travellers than

Real traffics, more

Meditations than

Megaparties, more

Democracy than

Freedom, and of course,

More human

Hostilities than

Animal amicabilities



Having managed to lock

Every other animal tightly

In a cage, we are now

Finally caged by an unseen virus







Simply, Why Poetry Is Dying



For all the more published chapbooks

Than writing subjects (& even more

Poetry authors than poetry readers)

Poetry is dying (not into history, but)

Against placement as they compete

With story tellers for each cash prize



Or escape to a taller ivory tower, where

They get too high with too big a dose

Of C2, where they collect most familiar

Words to create no sense, nonsense

Sursense or subsense out of hypersense

& lead every possible sense

Right into the senseless Wasteland





Red Moon Promised: A Haunting Vision



Perhaps in a dream or delirium, but

He did clearly see an enlarged furry beetle

Green-backed, yellow-bellied, flat-bodied

Long neck reaching up like a cobra

Head looking the same as his first class- &

Sex-mate named Red Moon from

A shanghai university, as she kept

Shouting at him high above her voice

Definitely in complaint or protest

But he just cannot hear a single sound

Like a wounded gull lost in darkness

Listening hard to a whale screaming to sky





Their Nights



Beyond her insomnia, a familiar

Face was looming in their study



Have nothing better to do, he reasoned

Sipping from a tall glass



While a lost dog was stalking around

The house, sniffing at a meowing shadow



& pissing every once in a while

To mark its inner dog-matic territory



Whose dog? Was it really a dog? How

Come she felt it sneaking like a cat



Its tongue was so long

Long enough to reach her own heart



Or the heart of his glass, even longer

Than to keep away the devilish virus







Twilighting



You picked a fallen leaf

Coloured like a rainbow



Something that spotlights the slightest

Nuance in colour if not in shape



Perhaps change is the nuance or vice versa

A progressive filing of living rhythms



Against death. I love the way the season

Is withdrawing into the past



You once confessed



To see how the present is passing is

Concurrently to see how



The future is arriving

Both in the same moment



Being & becoming a spectrum of colours

On each & the same autumn leaf







Mamihlapinatapai: for Qi Hong



Totally free

We have rented out each other

To equally total strangers

In this damned & doomed life



But for the next one

We have deadly been engaged

Ready to live happily ever after

A life of matrimonial ecstasy

From our mutual limerence





Razliubit



Just hold all your life in your heart

Like a mug



& all the pleasant

Pain will residue in-

To the bottom, while all

The painful pleasures keep

Dancing on the barm like seraphim



Or otherwise, if you are hungry







Estrangement, Giving



Being myself differs from being a man

A glare sound never echoes beyond the mountain



I have kept shedding blood since I was a teenager

Just to give or not to give birth (to a father



Though I can do so without a boy’s contribution)



There are countless attempts to penetrate my heart

& body if lust is not a loss or legacy of love



The femininity in my brain has a tenderer structure

& texture as I often fumble for the hidden key



To your patriarchy, to your potency in darkness

In darkness, my Lord, I defy Adam’s manhood
































2020, 10, 20 [Tuesday]



Last Letter



Today he finally received the letter

From his long lost first love, actually

Written half a century ago, on a sheet

Of rice paper scented with the smell



Of a forgotten season; her floral hand-

Writing ran like cardiography, the ink

Tasting of tears still reflective of the

Moonlight shining beyond the fields



Folded as a heart-shaped bird, wings

Feathered thickly with a country girl’s

Passion still warm with her youthful

Breath. Now stuffed full with memories



It’s framed within the timelines of his

Pasts as if caged tightly in an unrhymed

Stanza, high above the space of this digital

World, like a deplorably delated dinosaur





Self-Portraying



As a toddler, you began to scrabble wherever

Your little hands could reach. Later on, you

Sketched a bird-like picture in your youth

Until you became a grown up when you work

Every day on each detail, adding a few fine

Lines here, or throwing a drop of paint there



The portrait does not

Really look like you, though it’s an authentic

Manifestation of your true self. Once you

Finish it, your children will hang it high on

A whitewashed wall, where there would be

A spider working hard to catch a fly or ant

Beyond the web, or above your signature







Who Sees Which?



We watch stars only at night

But they observe us attentively even

On broad daylight just as Plato might wish



While you are looking for the star to match

Your spiritron in the summer sky, there is

An illuminating soul trying to locate you now









Journeying



The journey starting

At an old African tree

& ending somewhere

At the settlement on Mars



Is as long as full of pitfalls

& hardships as enjoyable

& even beautiful

As the one starting



At one mind & ending

At another, or starting

& ending at the one

& same heart, is it not?





Tips for Becoming a Great World Citizen in the e.Age


Don’t argue with any numbers, but just follow the google algorithm;
Abide by American interest rather than international law;
Whatever game Uncle Sam is up to play, join the team led by him;
Always shore up the green back, white face and purple heart;
Remember: information is always might, whereas power is always right;
Only Yankees can set fires, while you are never allowed to light a candle;
Subject all your speech acts to AmEnglish syntax, including your local slangs;
Be accommodating to any investments from Wall Street;
It is imperative to baptise your souls in the currents of freedom & democracy;
Never try to come close to the super boss like soviets, japs or chinamen…





Dialectics about Hell & Heaven



Depending who you really are

Not what you have actually done

While pursuing your next dream

Be it American or Chinese:



If you are a tourist of some kind

Hell is as accommodating as heaven

But if you are a permanent resident

Heaven can be as torturing as hell





Getting Along: A Bilingualcultural Poem



In Chinese, 朋友,恋人,& 爱人 are all

12-stroked characters, just as their counter-

Parts friend, couple & spouse are 6-lettered

Words in the imperial vocabulary of English



Though they are all underlined with human



Love and loyalty, the former entails twice

As much input or effort of the heart

As the latter to maintain a disparately

Similar humane relationship as a speech act





Like Onion



No innerself really changes

In time or space, except



The masks becoming worn out

& peeling off one after another





Nice to See You



Means nothing before you are

Greeted for a second time



Hours, days, months, or even years

Later on a hummingbird-like spot





Teenaging in the Country



The sun shines brightly on everyone

Running around during the daytime



But the moon always follows me alone

When I sneak with wind into darkness





Not for Sale



He had never managed to find a book publisher, but

Right before his demise, he had all his manuscripts

Piled on a boulder beside a flowering pine tree

On a hilltop, knowing the mist would edit them into



A complete volume, a gust of wind would turn to

The page of his best, a flock of migratory birds would

Recite it aloud against rising sun as their chanting

Echoes long along the summer stream until the whole



Mountain range is to remember it by heart







Visa Officer Might Have This to Say

(On the basis of the 10 top words of 2020 newly selected by Collins Dictionary.)



Issued by a country locked down, your passport

Is simply invalid, though it makes everything clear



About you as a key worker, about your travel plan

Even about your TicToking activities; perhaps



From the furloughed generation of earthlings? You

Came with Megxit, you saw mukbang, & you are waiting



For the human species to self-isolate in the cyperspace

Including Laozi, Shakespeare, Einstein, each & every one



Socially distanced from Gaxyland, where you wish to

See what is beauty, good, & truth beyond the borders



Yet you are totally a mistake in this un-traveling season

Like God, like language, like coronavirus itself







Tunneling Effect



Like a quantum

Let my spiritrons penetrate the high wall

Of your heart, as well as that of another

Parallel universe, not just to see the secrets

There but to be one of them





Macrospiritualism



As my heart beats with the rhythm of history

My mind expands beyond the borders of



The cosmos and my body decomposes into

Dust as tiny as this earth.



What is i if not

The singularity?







Reason



Your cat gazes at the limbo, for which

You have been arguing for the past

Week before reaching the conclusion



You kept turning to her to share your

Thinking in delight. She enjoys sniffing

At your premise and syllogism



As you stretch your train of thought

Into rationalization. In your bloated presence

She searches your scattered feelings with its



Soft whiskers, & starts licking your face. Then

She stalks behind the shadow of your lost

Feel, sneaking into the basement, where you



Know she is playing with your calmness

As if trying to leave your mind alone, where

She lies down in free meditation about



How to get as far away

As any other cat distancing herself far

Beyond your heartmosphere




2020, 9, 21 [Monday]



The Year of Double Twenty



Turns out high time for all to stand still, as

I stay at home every day, trying to find

How to hold my stream of consciousness



& a ship floats around beyond the harbor

Anchoring itself among sharks and whales

Swimming against dark blue undercurrents



There is also a fully loaded truck parked

By the roadside, like an old thought lost

In a heavy traffic held up long at twilight



& airplanes perching amidst the trees. There is

An unmasked woman in the adjacent house

Siting motionlessly, as if pondering whether



To reset her clock, like a lonely traveler

Hesitating which road to take, or God Him-

Self pausing to reset Earth on a new orbit





Connotations of the Chinese Character 人/Human



Since I am a direct descendant of Homo Erectus, let me

Stand straight as a 人/human , rather than kneel down



When two humans walk side by side, why to coerce one

Into obeying the other like a slave fated to 从/follow?



Since three humans can live together, do we really need

A leader or ruler on top of us all as a 众/group?



Born with all the freedom granted to a human

Why keep me within high walls like a prisoner/囚?





I vs 我: Another Bilinguacultural Poem



The first person singular pronoun, or this very

Writing subject in English is I , an only-letter

Word, standing straight like a pole, always

Capitalized, but in Chinese, it is written with

Lucky seven strokes as 我 , with at least 108

Variations, all of which can be the object case

At the same time.

Originally, it’s formed from

The character 找, meaning ‘pursuing’, with one

Stroke added on the top, which may well stand for

Anything you would like to have, such as money

Power, fame, sex, food, or nothing if you prove

Yourself to be a Buddhist practitioner inside out





The Unspeakable Spoken Out: for Qi Hong



After a deep deep breath

Out of the back back yard

Of my heart, I blow each &

Every filament of thought of you

(Not unlike Li Shangyin’s silk worm)

Stained with my spiritrons high

& higher up into the mid-

Summer wind

In which to dance

The wildest dance, to the freest tune of

The blue sky, as it sweeps over an

Entire forest without leaving

A single fragment of shadow





Who knows it will reach you in the heart of

Your world, embracing you fully in the most

Tender moment of night, caressing your whole

Being inside out with its finest numerous

Fingers. All invisible, all un-hearable





Retiring



During my long swim across the straight

My body has totally exhausted, bruises all

Over, rotten from head to toe, ready to

Dissolve among cutting waves of night, but



My soul has survived as it finally comes

Ashore, naked like a lost migrating bird

Pecking at its own shadow on the beach, not

Knowing how

To fly with a pair of featherless wings





Standing Still for Survival



Long long before long ago, Earth

Was originally set within a koru



Unfurling at every antlike moment

Directly towards the sun, until

Now it is too overloaded

With evil spirits & viruses



To continue revolution as it

Tries to return to itself





Yuan’s Funeral



At this end: his funeral is simply unneeded

Since he had no friend, nor did any women

Really love him (except his mother?), his

Children will in no time forget his features

Just as his few readers his poetry. Definitely

He came, he aged, & he vanished, always in

Silence, with obscurity, along oblivion. Yet



At the other end: his soul is receiving

A warmest welcome as the party celebrates

His gracious escape from body-earth to

Join all the high-minded or upper-spirited

Among shadowless lights & mindful music

His protobeing sits high up there, talking &

Laughing with immortal nobles in Gaxyland





Englese: A Sonnet in Found Chinglish Sayings

You really know English? Know is know, noknow is noknow.

Every student should good good study, day day up.

You have seed. I will give you some color to see see.

You and me, we two who and who?

They are no three no four people.

You ask me, me ask who?

It is always people mountain people see there.



If you want money, I have no; if you want life, I have one!

Doing things should not horse horse tiger tiger!

Dragon born dragon, chicken born chicken, mouse'son can make hole!

I give you face you don't wanna face, you lose your face, I turn my face

You should open the door see mountain.

He has one leg with somebody, and she also has one leg with somebody.

Please take care of pubic sanitation!





Tips/Idiosyncracies: A Metasonnet



Experience is the best riches for any writing subject

Bow to no masters and avoid any mfa seminars

Focus on language, thought, feeling & leave stories to others

Take up your pen only when inspired enough to do

Just scribble down whatever bursts out of your heart

Use the –ing form for the title to capture the moment

Change the line to keep up with the beat of your inner heart

Make an ‘eye’ in each poem & shorten it to less than 25 lines

Keep revising or rewriting in the process of precipitation

Try to write variations on the same title or subject matter

Make blanket-submissions like a programmed robot

Ignore any editorial ignorance, rejections or rudeness

That’s how poems can be authored, even really good ones

That’s how I have become a poetry author, even a good one





Chinese



Is just one of the many settlements in English



Much smaller than Latin, French, Yiddish, even Algonquian

But what it encodes, like the worshipping of power



Guanxi, mianzi, the lack of interest in equality, freedom, or

The rule of law, social justice, religion, as well as the upholding

Of the secular & the very fleshly, keeps gaining popularity



Among all speakers of the language, touching every

Soul, polluting each context like Californian forest fire. True



The Chinese characters, with their elusive intonations

Can never occupy the smallest island, but they are posing

The greatest threat because the vivid ideograms

Have a ready appeal to the human body & mind



As they both keep falling, & falling further




2020, 8, 22 [Saturday]



Within, With & In



Like one layer after another of

An onion that can be peeled from outside

There’s always one story after another hidden

Within the story, one dream after another

Within the dream, one truth after another

Within the truth, & one universe after another

Within the universe, each as sharp to the eye

Just as to the mind







Feathering



Many a soul is feathered

With hope to fly from an enclosed space

Darkened to light at the very moment

When twilight engulfs all shapes

Wrapped thickly by uncertainties



But my body is winged with words

Among which my soul will never get lost

Even in an inner butterfly effect

As I flap my wings against darkness





Long



Some say the only human construction on earth

Visible from the moon is the Long Wall, while

Others claim art is long, but longer

Than the borderline of the cosmos & even

More so than time or space per se is the radius

Of a thought held at the tongue tip





Close to Me



Is surely my soulmate, but even

Closer is my own spirit, & the



Very closest is my other self

Living in a parallel gaxyland







Encountering



When two humans crash into each other

They fall deeply in either love or hatred



When two freight trains clash head on

They are both derailed in destructions



When two clouds (or civilisations)

Collide, they become assimilated (?)







Traffic Lights



As human civilisation keeps driving forward

We often forget to stop at the red light, or

Just proceed with caution at yellow



But now we are all made to stand still, as if

Feeling at loss about what to do when

A black light is blinking among viruses





Same wording: English Spelling vs Chinese Syntax



钱是没有问题Money is having no problem



问题是没有钱Problem is having no money



有钱是没问题 Having money is no problem



没有钱是问题Having no money is problem



问题是钱没有Problem is having no money



钱没有是问题 Having no money is problem







Were I Not One of Homo Sapiens



I would prefer to be a tree

Standing alone yet firmly all my life

Enjoying plenty of sunshine, flirting

With each bird dropping by, remaining

Straight, uplifting & in deep meditation

As numerous animals come and go with

Summer storms or ice ages, since I can live

A far longer life, almost immortal

With a much higher heart



Or I might as well have been a wolf, lower-

Bodied & lower-minded, but never

Telling lies, eating my fellow wolfs alive

Trying to ruin the whole earth, or

Dreaming about tomorrow



Alas, I am a bat-like mammal, spreading

Viruses viciously while flying blindly





Insomnia Imaginings



1/

Diving, diving through the darkness of tonight

I am trying to reach tomorrow on the other side



2/



A breeze has just blown itself away

Tracelessly, but from the distant copse

I hear the summer leaves gurgling



(Like my little sweetheart) & gurgling



Over the sound waves, my inner boat

Sails forward as if driven by the wind

To the shore beyond the horizon of hope



3/



Walking around the heart of twilight

I found myself like a long lost key

Without knowing which door

To open for the night



4/



Caged within the grove, the song

Of an unknown bird flaps its wings

Hard against freedom, its feathers

Drifting around in midair, like a light

Bomb exploded above the treetops



Falling down on this line of poetry

Where music notes keep dancing

At the heart of komorebi









Tomorrow, Church



At the heart of my second hometown

Stands a private church I’ve built for myself

Where I frequent not just to say my prayers

But to sing my psalms, make confessions &

Try to convert my secular being preoccupied

With fears, regrets, sorrows, jealousies

Worries, despondence, shame and hatred, all

Into a hyper being full of Buddhist wisdom.



While half

Of me lives down here within this mission of

Poetry, the other half keeps diving through

Darkness to morrow, the other side of night









The Only Future Concern



When I am gone with a cloud

Shall I leave my soul behind?



If so,

Who is to take care of it?





On Death



Death is not a penalty on your physical body

Rather, it is a reward to your spiritual being



Death is not the end of all your pasts

But the start towards your other future



Death is a stone thrown into the pond of your

World, where it serves to raise its water level



Death is an admittance to a party full of joy

Which will never disperse in the light spot



Death is the most enjoyable moment of truth

When you can get all the answers confirmed



Death is the account with the highest rate

Where you redeem all your investments



Death offers you the best chance to live again

While others may have died once and for all





So What?



So, I am not young or strong

Let alone handsome or sexy. So what?



But still I got a human body

With every human right



So, I do not have a car or home

Let alone fame or power. So what?



But still I have plenty of sunlight

Besides a true human heart



So, I have never had any close friends

Let alone a woman’s true love. So what?

But still I’ve had all my mother’s care

Which I can doubly return to the world










2020,7,10 [friday]



The Third Ear



With this gaxy ear, one can clearly hear

The gurgling passion circulating wildly

Within your veins, the whims bubbling

On the bog of her consciousness, the heart

Beat of a new black hole, the whispers

From tri-colored tulips in a secret garden

The melody of a muted peak among Rocky

Mountains, the rhythms of fresh sprouts

Shooting from the spring soil, the laughter of

A distant streamlet from glaciers, the calls of

A blue whale jumping out of the heart of

The Pacific, the songs of the autumn sunlight

Glimmering at a cloud’s edge, the chore of

A whole universe parallel to our own, yes



Indeed, in the depth of darkness, among

Fragmented silences, from pink noises

Simply beyond human hearing, I can hear

Any & all such sounds, only if I want to





The Biggest Happiest Surprise



In life is no other than tomorrow

As is preordained with myriad possibilities, including

Such as an unexpected piece of good news from a certain

Source, or a certain piece of good news from

An unexpected source or, rather, the very likelihood

Of the next few moments when you feel happy about this:

As long as you manage to get up again, there’ll surely

Be one good peace of news after another waiting for you





No Road Is Straight



Otherwise, human history would not

Have been so full of turns, nor would



The human heart have been so twisted

More important, the earth would never



Have been so tied like the Gordian knot

(To be cut with Alexandre’s sword again?)





Small



What a naked eye can see

Can be so small –

A speck of dust wrapped with

Human wantonness and ignorance

Refusing to vanish, but hung close

To mid-air at this antlike moment

(Like the earth in the cosmos)

No creatures would

Notice it, except some perception

Entangling with it afar

In an infinitesimal corner of

The human mind, each being

A planet in its own right





Between Time & Space



As time progresses infinitely

In space, & space expands

Infinitely in time, anything

Everything is becoming possible

As a particle of infinity while new

Newer & newest universes are

Being born one after another

Like hope, like thought

Like tomorrow, each of such

Finity contributing to infinity





Learning



All my life I have been learning

Just one thing:

To smile to death



From my first cry to my last smile

Any other lesson is but a selective

Course on emotional management





Again, Looking Forward



I am biting time in darkness

I am biting darkness in time, silently



Counting the stars high above the double-

Glazed skylight of my mind, waiting

For the day to break again with just another

Happy surprise popping up on the small screen

Such as a greeting from my lost first love

An acceptance email from a magazine editor

A report about the vaccine against the virus

A green color twinkling across American markets

A quiet morning on the Indian-Pakistan

Frontline, all among other little exciting

Possibilities while



Darkness is biting me in time, &

Time biting me in darkness, silently







The Fish Framed within the Photo



Keeps wondering whether

To return to the heart of

The Pacific, or to swim

To the streamlet flowing

In the viewer’s mind



Via the tears from

A smiling or crying face





What’s Fundamentally Wrong



With our race?

So mean, so brutal, so destructive

To one another

To all other species

Even to our selves & gods alike

As if we does not seem to deserve

This privileged home-planet, where



(Individually, they can be civilised, yet

Collectively, they are all most evil beasts)



Let me launch my soul like a spiritron rocket

Into the deepest depth of the cosmos

To find an answer, be it ever so far-fetched





Quest in Question



Every soul is in search of something. So

What are you pursuing in particular?

A first-rate education, a good job, a dream house

A short cut to success, a prosperous career

A special map, a gold mine, an effective recipe

A magic gadget, a super talent, a passport

A secret, a key, a harbor, a connection, a savior

A nest for your heart, a soulmate, an ideal or



The truth, the elixir, the cure, the Way

The Dao, the meaning of life (if any at all)

The peace of mind, the human rights or



Freedom, equality, dignity, longevity

Health, wealth, fame, friendship, love

Sex, power, honor, knowledge, wisdom

Good, beauty, Heaven, God or happiness per se...?



While this list may go on forever amongst all

Such desirable things, tangible or otherwise

I have nothing to look for, except another breath

Of air to inhale, in this very antlike moment, all

The love from this universe, then to exhale

All my gratitude out of my inner being





Inner Climate



Even if winter never retreats from here

There’s still as much spring beauty

Summer good & autumn

Truth as I would love to enjoy

In the backyard of my heart; or



If there is only spring all the time

If it is always winter here, these

Two climate conditions are equally

Boring (& impossible) - the richness of

Life comes from the four seasons changing

Constantly & alternatively throughout the year.





Politics of Pronouns



Even if you is her

Only if I are you

As if they is he

If it am I



If only we were us

If





Personal Poetry Points (july10, 10:40-45 am)



Instead of tea, coffee, wine, or even water sometimes, I drink poetry only.



I can go well without anything, including clothing or sheltering, but not without poetry.



I’d rather remain an unknown author of great poetry than become a great author of unknown poetry.



If my poetry were to win a wide appreciative readership posthumously as in the case of John Keats or Emily Dickinson, I would, just as I could, readily die a happy death now.