Dragon Drawing
Even
though born blind, each of them declares his version to be the most
faithful representation of the real original loong, , draco or drake…
The Model: Paws like a
tiger’s
Claws like an eagle’s
Scales like a carp’s
Belly like a frog’s
Neck like an iguana’s
Horns like a deer’s
Head like a camel’s
Ears like a bull’s
Eyes like a hare’s
The Image: Huge, scaly,
horned, talon-footed, bat-winged, lizard/dinosaur-bodied and
fire-breathing
Picture One: Paws and
claws like those of something between a tiger and a talon
Scales like those of
something between a carp and a lizard
Body like that of
something between a frog and a dinosaur
Neck like that of
something between an iguana and a python
Horns like those of
something between a deer and a bull
Head like that of
something between a camel and a hippo
Wings like those of a
huge bat and …
-Winds
There are winds to lead
and winds to avoid
There are winds to sweep
like a million unseen brooms
Winds to break every head
on the bare land
Winds to caress or flirt
with the tenderest spring petals
Winds to uproot century
old oak or willow trees
Winds like heavy sighs of
history blowing out every light
Winds of leaves, flowers,
rains, snows, sand and dust
Winds that whisper, winds
that whistle like screaming monsters
Winds that you can never
walk against, pushing buildings and cities
Winds that swirl around
and make the whole world dizzy
Winds that drive waves
upon beaches like stampeding horses
Winds that send roofs,
beds and pigs up above dark clouds
There are winds that blow
all golden sunshine into white winter
Winds that strike human
hearts like bells ringing fiercely
Winds that never stop
waving, wallowing and warring
Even if you long for just
one damned moment of peace
-Those Wild Geese
Little clouds of
fossilized sunshine
Now flying mute
And leaving behind their
shadows
All the songs of the
morning
Until they are shot down
Like flute dots
The last calls they make
Their only songs
-First Day of Death
I wonder
If it will really snow
As broadcast seven days
ago
I wonder
If the potted azalea
beside my fireplace
Is starting to wither at
this moment
I wonder
If I will run into some
old friends
I made in history books,
and
I wonder how my sons
Are wondering
Where my soul is wandering
-Self-Record
on A. K. Ramanujan’s
‘Self-Portrait’
you sound so similar to
everyone
but yourself, and seldom
speak to a non-human being
to conform with the law
of acoustics
the voice of a street guy
pitch so familiar
yet reluctant to echo
from soul to soul
-Like a Lamp
on Grace Nichols’s
‘Like
a Beacon’
in Vancouver west
from time to time
you just cannot help
yelling, yearning
for your father’s
humming
you fumble into musical
halls
in pursuit of tunes
soft/hard utterances
you need this feeling
you need this contact
with origin
guiding your heart
like a lamp
along a forlorn road
-Reminding
when I am scheduled to die
I shall stop dreaming and play
with a brown bear that
lolls and wallows in a stream
and I shall climb onto a
tall pine tree in the zoo
and roar loudly like the
lion king towards the rolling autumn sky
I shall sit and help
myself to a pile of fatty foods
With my mouth wide open
and make all the eating noises I can
Jaywalking, trespassing
and even running a little red light
You can give up your names
and masks
And throw away all your
clothes and manners
And stop caring about
whatever others say or do to you
But we worry about our
bills and savings
And concern ourselves with
what is going on
Within sight or beyond our
living rooms
Perhaps you can put a bit
of everything on rehearsal now
And refuse to do whatever
you would rather not want to
Since you are scheduled to
die shortly, anyway
-The Beginning
When I was one
I found my bun
When I was ten
I found my pen
When I was twenty
I found my Wendy
When I was thirty
I found the air dirty
When I was forty
I found life naughty
When I am fifty and sixty
and seventy and eighty
How much more findings I
will make and feel hasty?
-My Dad
My dad has shrunk quite a
bit
And begun to look up at me
now
But I do not look down
upon him, partly
Because he used to be much
taller
-Two Ultimate Truths
When the whole cosmos
collapses into chaos again
All life or non-life forms
will be destroyed into void
Except the few lines you
have composed for time
When all the cells of your
body stop functioning
Every dollar you have
accumulated will begin to work
To recall them to life
without your ever knowing it
-Love Lines
1. You are the only
man/woman in my entire world
2. If only I could have a
chance to die for you
3. Finally, I have had
someone to smile at or cry to for anything or nothing at all
4. Were I to die tomorrow,
I would have nothing to regret about
5. Thank your parents for
having not only given birth to but also brought you up
6. I am most grateful to
God for giving you to me
7. You fit me like the key
to the lock
8. No, I dare not marry
you; the very idea blasphemes your noble body
9. You are simply so so
very clean
-In Times Like This
No good news is news.
News, news is no good.
Is no news good news?
Good news is no news.
News is no good news.
-Past vs Present
You’d
better stop throwing
Your pasts
Into
This mirror embedded
within the future
Or you will get your
selfhood hurt by
The broken
Glasses
That you can never put
back into a whole
-White Spirits
under a darkening sky
I look up and ask high:
Why not deliver a
colorful snowfall?
And a trillion butterflies
dance nearby
As if in a fairy tale
-Autumn Rain
The drizzle has finally
stopped
All the wet has swarmed
into raindrops
And fallen flat on the
ground
Except this one that
continues traveling along
Lingering
Soon it will slip out the
twig’s
desperate hold
Like a gold coin between a
dying miser’s
fingers
The last leaf of a naked
tree
The last dew of a
forgotten season
-The Clay Tripod
Close to the bank of the
Yangtze River
Sits an unearthed tripod
That has embraced
Spring water
Burning incense
Sesame oil
Rice wine
Perfume
And opium
The tripod is none other
than you
But what is the tripod?
-Winter-Vision
Two little crows
Popping up
From nowhere
Try to
Establish themselves:
Two truths
On the skeletal tree top
Yawing fiercely
Towards the sky, the wind,
the buildings
The fields and the entire
afternoon
All so fluffy white
In jade-toned snow
-The Short Cut
He leaves the path into
dawn
Well knowing where it ends
He will cross a small
stream
And stop his pursuit of a
hotel
At the border of the
brightest moment
He will put aside all his
loads
He will stand up to set
off
And as he moves, he will
search
He will chew grass roots
And drink the dew he
gathers
Before darkness sets in he
will sit
Himself down to rest and
begin to dream
-Country-Girl
Just you look at me,
rapeflowers
Spreading to the borders
of harvest
My palms gloved with
calluses
My boots marked with seeds
Just you listen to me,
bullfrogs
When they whistle to us
aloud
My heart is full of songs
My mouth is full of
silences
Just you flirt with my
shadow, topsoils
Cast for the land to love
The wheat is ripe with
musings
The fields are filled with
me
-The-Only-Difference
In hell, the food is the
same
Exactly the same ladle,
with a meter-long handle
Each trying to use it to
feed himself
Yet each suffering from
more hunger
In heaven, the food is the
same
Exactly the same ladle,
with a meter-long handle
Each trying to use it to
feed another
So each getting everything
he wants
-Murky
How anyone
Is seen
Is
So murky--
A pond of water
In a storm
Only sunlight might
Polish into a mirror
A light’s
long line
Or one fellow light
From Longfellow
-Senses Un-serviced
Sexuality
Mommy, mommy,
the boy said
Am I not a girl
Yes, you are, honey
So I proved it to them
How did you do that
I showed them my badge
For the girl’s
club
Ownership
Item by item
The little boy
Put goods
In his mother’s
shopping cart
Overwhelmingly bigger
Than his concept of money
When the whole world
Is nobody else’s
but his alone
Value
Sitting among
Fisher prices
Like a little Buddha
The infant is lost
In its meditation
Over an empty bottle
All too plain
To be a toy
-Universe-Netting
How the nets of this
universe
Mend themselves
It is impossible to say
Or if you say to see
That this is what you have
Said. Few crevices in the
closet
Of an open mind
Where you rarely see what
you say to look at
Though broken
There are nets
Above all
-Drawing-the-Dragon*: A-Parallel-Poem
There was a contest
Once
For the most faithful
representation
Of loong
(Or the Chinese dragon)
In England
An inflated Satan
Or was it Sua proper
Came to squat among
The letters
Then stroke by stroke,
again
It rose right
Upon
Each slate of white
Mind
*This poem is inspired by my friend Dr
Zhijian Tao’s dissertation at McGill University, Drawing the
Dragon: Western European Reinvention of China (New York: Peter
Lang, 2009).
-Do Clouds Stop for You
Do clouds stop for you
You don’t
em
You say ‘move’
Say
‘now’
‘then’
I fallen
With your raindrops
You with my sweat
Your shadows pressing
Below you
Dryly
-Euthanasia
Blood withers
My body is a pickle
I am bathing it
Yes I am cold-boiling
His stem, veins and leaves
Deeply soaked in my
self-assertions
How he absorbed my spirits
From the quasi paradoxes
Of his senses
Till I stuffed
The whole vegetable
With my salty whims
Swollen like an apple
Bare as a twig
His fantasies hydrated
To revive him
Fresh from the brink
I demand to die
-If Omitted
Had yesterday lasted a
month longer
Were the earth flattened
today, or
Should the mind become
separated
From the body tomorrow…
-Even-A-Soul-Has-A-Shadow
You can
Never
Get rid of
Your own
Shadow
Unless
You are
Part of
Light itself
Or
There is
No light
To begin with
-East-Idioms (5)
1/ at a waterfront
pavilion you can readily
fetch the moon in its
clearest reflection
just like the plants
facing towards the south
always the first to feel
the breath of spring
2/ only by living close to
lakes or rivers
can we make friends with
fish and shrimps
those living far away from
hills or mountains
can never hear the
original songs of birds
3/ thanks to the trees our
ancestors
planted long time ago, we
can now
enjoy all the coolness of
their shades
under a scorching summer
sun
4/ just before the sun
rises
he pulls up every seedling
a little bit higher in his
field
so as to have a harvest
sooner
-East-Idioms (6)
The Daoist Alchemist
Instead of turning brass
into gold or sand into diamonds, the alchemist refines soil, air and
sunlight into an immortality syrup. While gulping down the newly made
elixir in a hurry, he accidentally spills a few drops of the holy dew
onto the ground, which his dogs, cats and chickens struggle hard to
lip at the first sight. As the alchemist launches himself for a
higher life in heaven, all the animals in his humble house thus begin
to rise, certainly underneath him.
The Guizhou Donkey
The first of its kind that
had ever appeared in the mountains of Guizhou, the donkey gave a deep
impression to all local animals at the beginning. Terror-stricken,
even the tiger came to pay his respect and offer his kingship to the
newcomer, since he had such an imposing statue as well as such a
high-pitched voice. Later, the tiger found the donkey capable of
doing nothing other than kicking to defend himself or offend his
enemy. With this happy realization, the tiger tore the new king into
pieces and ate him up the third time he passed by.
-East-Idioms (7)
1/ Once he gets a full
taste of the idea
He forgets the words that
contain it
Just as the angler forgets
his fishing rod
After he gets the carp off
his little hook
2/ He enjoys playing
His harp to the cows
Because only they can
Appreciate his artistry
3/ The moment he hears of
Zong’s
death
He throws his zither into
a big fire
Knowing no one else would
ever
Be able to understand his
music
4/ Far to the west and
long time ago
Did the crane fly away
from the wall
Here it was once boldly
painted
Here its shadow is still
fluttering now
-Tremors
Again, the tremors
Have you ever felt em?
I often do
You say
It must be an
earthquake
Or the palpitations of
your own heart
But you know neither is
true
Was it the house
foundation
Shaking
As a heavy metal monster
Running past invisibly?
-Man-vs-Nature
is it not
the burst bubbles
of whims and wishes
that made us all
such a fine
evening glow?
-Incomplete-Imperatives
While the sun is sleeping
While the hope is being
prolonged
While the winter is not
really arriving yet
While the egg remains
hatched
While the vapor stays in
the air
While the grass grows
While the fish swims in
the water
While the house stands
firm
While the cherry tree
blossoms
While the iron is still
hot
-Home: A-Logo-Poem
HO
USE
G.love
-Householders
The first few years
After they moved to their
new house
They keep it fresh and
shiny
With the new original
paint
Resistant to oil, water,
even graffiti
Then, time and time again
With care, patience and
precision
One sands and smoothes the
walls
As the other fills in all
the empty crevices
Both with similes,
metaphors or paradoxes
When the fence became
rotten outside
And holes and cracks
crawling around
above the fireplace, in
kitchen corners
And more stuffs
accumulated in forgotten closets
They tire of repairing and
even painting
Yeah, others have either
changed their houses
Or moved away
Even before they paid off
their mortgages
Only they hoped to
renovate theirs
With the little savings
they have
It used to be their dream
house
Only too costly to rebuild
-Allen-in-Wonderland
Qucheng
Homerburgh
Dantefield
Shakespeareston
Goethestadt
Pushkingrad
Baudelaireville
Nerudastad
Frostdale
Tagorerboro
-Epiphany
Truth :: beauty
Beauty :: truth
The two zoom
simultaneously
At the very first ray
tickling the mind of
The sleeper
-Will
Wit
With
Withe
Wither
Withers
Or
Withers
Wither
Withe
With
Wit?
-Personal-Politics
I
Me
Myself
The present writing
subject
The Chinaman called ‘CY’
The clone of my entire
being inside out
The living creature
sin-numbered as 646095813
The biofather of George
and Allen
The author of this
sensible nonsense
A statistic, waiting to be
Posthumously digitalized
And what else?
-Corn
A whole body of teeth
Nothing but teeth
To chew the passing summer
We bite off from you
All the pearl-like
memories
Tinged with sunlight
A hard but juicy kiss
-Onion
With so many masks
Each getting fresher
Finer, fairer
And closer
To your heart
Your masks are your body
Your body is your face
Is your face your mask
Or your heart itself?
You have never been a
forbidden fruit
Not even to Eve
-Provincial-Proverbs
An onion a day keeps the
salesperson away
A grin a minute keeps the
oak in spirit
A lie an hour keeps the
chief in power
A wind a night keeps the
mind light
A poem a week keeps the
heart freak
A payroll a month keeps
poverty at arm’s
length
A trip a season keeps the
dog in reason
A boss a year keeps the
worker dear
A wedding a decade keeps
the couple off headache
A big bang a century keeps
the human world friendly
-East-Idioms-(8)
1/ So long as the green
mountain is still out there
There is no worrying about
want of firewood
2/ The itch is worse when
scratched from outside the shoe
The flower would be fairer
if looked at from behind the fog
3/ The oak desires to
remain still
But the wind must keep
blowing
4/ Rather to be a jade
broken to pieces
Than to be a tile unharmed
as a whole
5/ The Sichuan dog barks
at the rising sun
As it seldom appears in
this rainy season
6/ The mantis tries to
catch the cicada in the front
While a shadowy oriole is
stalking it close behind
7/ The couple sleeps
closely on one and the same bed
Their dreams are as widely
different as day and night
-Grap-Eaters:-Another-One-Act-Play-Poem
scene
i
A:
Would like to try some of these grapes:
B:
Sure! Did you grow them yourself?
A:
Yep! How do you like em?
B:
Very sweet and juicy. In fact, tastier than any other stuff I’ve
eaten. Can we sign something like a
sole agency agreement so that I can sell them for you?
A:
Oh, no, it is just an experiment in my own garden.
scene
ii
A:
Try some of these! You would probably like them.
C:
Yummy! Really good! You yourself grew them?
A:
Yeah. I have developed a new species.
C:
Really? How about mass growing your grapes? I will finance your
expansion, I mean joint venture of some kind?
A:
Gosh, I have never given a thought to that!
scene
iii
A:
Have some more of my grapes, Mr. Alderman!
D:
Why not! It tastes really terrific!
A:
But you did not seem to like them as much as yesterday?
D:
Did I? No, I remember saying I love your wonderful grapes. Is there
anything I can do for you, to promote your grapes, for instance?
A:
Come on! I did not offer you the grapes for that!
scene
iv
A:
Hi, you couple look kind of weird today. Is there anything wrong?
E+F:
Your grapes!
A:
My grapes?
E:
Since my wife had a taste of your stuff the other day, she has been
going through a hard time. She fights with me for nothing, she is
irritable, she….
A:
What is wrong then? Have you seen a doctor?
F:
I love what you said to me when you offered us your grapes.
A:
What did I say? How about my grapes?
E:
Were you trying to seduce my wife, or did your grapes contain some
chemicals?
A:
I do not follow you, Gentleman!
scene
v
A:
You are happy, aren’t
you! Help yourself with more of my grapes.
G:
Thank God! They are so delicious!
A:
If you really like them, take as many as you can!
G:
Unbelievable! Is this a free lunch or something? Are you a
philanthropist?
A:
Not really. But you do like these grapes though?
G
[taking of his pants
and trying to put as many grapes as possible into them]
A
[aside]: I wonder if
there is anyone here who loves my grapes at all?!
-Media-Warning
you have the right to
remain silent
any sound you make here in
public
can and will later or
sooner be used
against you in a court of
rule
even if it is nothing but
a cough
a sneeze, a hiccup, or a
fart
they are either clichés
or noises
you also have the right to
talk nonsense
any utterance you make in
private
can and will be translated
against you
according to the
dictionary of democracy
your facial expression,
your gesture
you body movement or your
posture
may prove far from
politically correct
you sure have the right to
remain silent
unless your whole being is
a word per se
-The-Fat-Fabulous
easy-going, they
gab; they
grin; they
giggle; they
guffaw; they
gossip; they
gyrate; they
goof off; they
galumph; gooey
-Cuckoo
alas! you sensitive
secretive songster
knowing every secret
spirit of the forest
and all the spirit’s
secrets in the mists
you keep calling and
singing blindly
until your throat becomes
all blood-blocked
you never care, nor are
you aware
how many ears have heard
your sounds
how many eyes will see
your figure proper
except some casual hikers
going astray
or a couple of local
firewood gatherers
you just keep singing and
calling blindly
you singular solitary
singing species
-Chameleon
-- when it looks
in a mirror, what color does it have?
constantly
changing your skin color
with light
temperature
or emotion
they know it for sure
but isn’t
it
their eyes
changing
with their minds
their hearts
their tongues
longer even than yours
we are actually
colorless
aren’t
we?
-In the English Bay
the waves surging towards
the seashore
not unlike my spirits
the seashore embracing the
waves
not unlike your arms
a whale seems trying to
jump above the water
like what is not supposed
to be unlike
On
Osler Street, Vancouver West
somewhere down my
neighborhood
as if the sun and moon
were melting
all the cherry twigs
tinged with spring
like morning glows fallen
in the wood
beside the freshly mown
lawns I jog
both my steps and breaths
in keeping
with every little bare
cluster humming
such a sweet tune in the
silvery fog
is my residence here but a
day dream
or is the day dream my
residence here?
-Chanson-by-a-Chinaman*
ching chong, chinee
chink, chinky, chonky
so was i called a dragon
of barbarity
a born rogue holding the
laws of truth in deformity
because i ate rats, dogs,
slugs and snakes
i began with anything but
genes of true humanity
ching chong, chinee
chink, chinky, chonky
so am i made a dead enemy
of civility
growing grotesque against
values in white reality
because i hate freedom as
much as human rights
although i have the right
to be a human entity
ching chong, chinee
chink, chinky, chonky
so will i be seen a
species of non-conformity
an inflated satan beyond
the borders of christianity
as long as i’m
pig-eyed, crow-haired, the farthest other
i must be treated as a
real demon only
*A
parody on ‘Chanson
for Canton’
(London: Punch,
1858), a telling example illustrative of the deeply-rooted and
long-held western tradition to demonize China as culturally the most
disparate Other.
-Secret-Spirit
for years I sought light
in darkness
with my eyes open wide as my mouth
I called, I sang, I prayed, I pleaded
for rays that might come down from above
now I seek darkness in light instead
with my ears closed tight as my eyes
yet I cannot find a shred of my soul's
with my eyes open wide as my mouth
I called, I sang, I prayed, I pleaded
for rays that might come down from above
now I seek darkness in light instead
with my ears closed tight as my eyes
yet I cannot find a shred of my soul's
shadow, even in a midnight
dream
-Reflections on
Earth-Breaking
flesh is
fresh
but spirit is
not secret
-Beyond-the-Blue
there is no borderline
between sea and sky
waves are pushing their
colors
up towards the air,
bloating
their calls and songs to
bold
changing shapes
it is a world within
nature
presenting itself, or what
cannot be represented
elsewhere
separated from the mind
the frame always trying to
capture
a few fish swimming in the
waters
-The Art of Postmodern
Arithmetic
one plus one
always
equals
three
two minus two
often
leaves
one
three times three
seldom
leads to
nine
four divided by four
never
amounts to
one
-Mandarins
Although
perching in the some grove, the husband and the wife fly in different
directions when the trees suddenly fall down. –Chinese
Proverb
like common-laws living on
land
you’ve
never gone through a ceremony
but you share privacy and
publicity alike
in the minimal space of
time
at the maximum moment of
space
after days of months of
years
of playing intimately in
the water
beside the reeds and
duckweeds
you have begun to look
like each other
in almost every physical
feature
now, as a violent storm
rises above the lake
do you feel enough
limerence to stay here?
-East-vs-West
breaking, broken
bare bricks on the Berlin
Wall
collected from the ruins
to build a transparent
bridge
between the past and the
future
broken, breaking
earthen bricks for Badalin
Ridge
baked in a dragon fire
to repair and strengthen
the long wall
separating the prairies
farther from the gobi
-The Birds and the
Mountaineer
in their glaring voices
unseen birds are singing
unaware of strangers
approaching step by step
down in the foothills
while the lonely climber
keeps breathing quietly
for fear of awakening
the immortals dozing off
right above his spirits
-You,
Or
few
of the crew
will preview
review
or inter-view
the new
view
of a dew
on the yew
-9
Nicknames for a Poet
1. shepherd of words
2. juggler of syllables
3. alchemist of ideas
4. collagist of sound patterns
5. singer of imagery
6. prince of a linguistic kingdom
7. addict to wild thinking
8. crow with white wings
9. god of a personal religion
-Chasing-Something-Absent
beyond the shadow
you are the presence
of a shadow
that is
rarely the reality
whenever you are
you are not what is
present
where you stand
you join the light
and never
the light disperses
to fill in the moments
when your spirit is absent
few others have the
impulses
for standing
but you do
to chase something absent
-The-Black-Bird
so little triggers
off
a black bird
the nexus of antithesis
foiled with snow
light
to fly into the vast
history of
gray
-Shaving
often am I attempted
to rid of
this little mustache of
manhood
so I spread
the foam of self-exposure
above my lips
for cleaning
that was when I took off
my mask
to try to look younger
but my Allen said
I was not even a human
without that mustache
-Night-of-Sky
night of sky in the sea,
bursting
with clouds and whales and
chrysanthemums
night of sky in my mind
–flat
when my meditative spirit
stays still
among shapes and sounds,
like a lotus-eater
night of sky in the sky,
deep night
when my imaginings are
starfish finding themselves
swimming closer to the
carrel tree, to their nests
-Ranting
come on, you guys, I am no
longer a kid now
I have the right to vote
like you old folks do
and if I really want to, I
could always drink too
or play in a casino as you
probably know how
but I don’t
drink or smoke beyond your sight
nor do I have anything to
do with any gangster
let alone snuck out to
loud parties at midnight
I know how much green
vegetable to eat
I know how often I should
wash my hands
I also know how to keep my
own room neat
I have never skipped
classes in the past year or so
I have never forgot to
hand in my home assignments
I have never been detained
for any behavior low
I am sorry I cannot
promise my marks would be high
I cannot promise I would
win the next math contest
I cannot promise to be
more outstanding than the rest
but this I promise you: I
would give it one heck of try
I can in deep waters keep
myself float
I can support myself with
a government loan
since I have grown up with
dreams of my own
let go of me, just let me
row my own boat
-The River and the Bridge
over that little
meandering river
flowing anonymously from
my boyhood
there used to be no bridge
but we could cross it
anywhere, any time:
we rode a little ferry
boat in spring
and nake-swam to the
opposite bank in summer
when it became as dry as
reeds and straw
we trudged a trail like a
small stream
and when it was frozen
with sand and gravel
we walked on the thickest
ice we could find
not knowing how to ski
nor did we fear losing our
balance
between boyish dreams and
the cold winter
since I left Lianhuadang
long ago
a bridge has been built
thus becoming the only
place
and the only way
to get to the other side
of that same river
-Open-Opera
april
this solo performance
of sweet cherry trees
white clusters of vowels
pink chorus of assonance
there is no accompany
of leafy consonance
except bold internal
rhymes
between heartbeats and
footsteps
-Birds at Risk
your songs and calls all
recorded
your body vividly stuffed
your genes being
digitalized
your species already
cloned
now we seem living a
posthumous life
we have become shadows of
ourselves
among so much bustling and
hustling
we are dying, birds, dying
-Last-Meet-with-My-First-Love
meeting you face to face
you seem to hide yourself
behind a fog in another
world
separated by the pacific
in between
you often look like the
flower
blooming on my window
ledge
have a blue dream
and you will see a little
cloud
drifting around like me
near that borderline
I have packed you up
tightly
into my backpack, the
luggage
I cannot consign, or sent
by mail
but carry it with me
close to my chest
you are neither light
nor heavy, but you will
occupy a solid space
in the closet of my heart
-On Top of Mt Heavenson
in a silvery sea of thick
mists
surging and sweeping
towards the slanting sun
all peaks keep looming in
and out
like wanton islands
playing in the wild
some hiding behind nouns
and verbs
others seeking adjectives
and adverbs
among all figures of
speech
and still others trying to
watch the show
in bushy silence, like you
and me
-Pumpkin,-Pumpkins
Arhats
squatting around in a
foggy field
each flushed with protests
against frost coming all
too soon
Buddha puts you there
to guard an entire season
but we will relocate you
to guard our empty houses
the last of a fast fading
landscape
the last to ripen
-Dialectic Dialogue
the bell rings aloud
though no wind is blowing
the bird flies afar
though it remains still
the sky is filled up
though there are no stars
or clouds
the sound is heard
though it lacks a voice
no human is coming
though roads are
everywhere
nothing is disappearing
into this present absence
-Dialectical Dialogue (2)
the intensity of the night
grows into a dream
that rises like a cloud
drifting above the skyline
the emptiness of the day
shrinks into a tiny mouth
that blows like a whistle
forgotten in a drawer
isn’t
that morning glow
all made from such bright
paradoxes
hatched in the dark?
-Dialectical Dialogue (3)
every movement of life is
a break
all inactivity another
break
in the broad daylight
the interacting between
the two
gives us all the freak
every dream is a bypass
all death another bypass
in the heart of night
the overlapping of the two
covers the world with
glass
-Getting-Newly-Old
you can only talk
about what you used to do
and do
what you used to talk
about
you shrink in both ways
and both ways are
the only way
to shrink
what’s
supposed to be hard
softens like a boiled
noodle
what’s
supposed to be tender
hardens like a winter
stone
one attempt
on top of another, they
say
or, rather, one
attemptable night
after another
-Growing
was that all
innocence?
that was all
in a sense!
all was that
in no sense?!
-Private Enjoyment
each night
I retreat to my bed
taking off all the clothes
from my body and soul
and, always, a cluster of
consonants
elbow into my mind
murmuring voicelessly
and burying me deep
into my pillow
filled with vowels
-Destination
I tried to join
the songs of birds
or clouds
but both
birds and clouds
turned me down
so I kept
flying like a bird
with songs held in my
heart
and singing like a cloud
with my spirits drifting
under the sun
-Above-the-Water
the goose has been
floating
so long in the lake
its body above the water
becomes a picture, the
rest
a rotten stick
the goose above the water
is more graceful than a
swan
the goose under the water
is fossilized
in the heart of that lake
there is nothing
but a picture
of a goose-like figure
ever so bold and vivid
-Night Rain
flocks of tiny transparent
birds
pecking at the opaque roof
as if to dig a sweet nest
right above my dream
I know it is not drumming
from Africa
That is resonating with my
heartbeat
-The Mouse,-A Mouse
if the little mouse became
as boundless as the sky as
it wishes
the sky would become
as free as a cloud
the cloud
as powerful as a wind
and if the wind became
as unshakable as a wall
the wall would become
as penetrating as a mouse
and the little mouse
a mouse
-The Objective Case of a
Pronoun
no statement begins with
me
a word never capitalized
never allowed to be the
subject
but doomed
to substitute an other
to receive action, always
passively
even within quotation
marks
in italics
or in the title itself
o, for a momentary justice
me to be an entity rather
than a pro-form
-Defining a True Artist
a true artist is one who
creates out of imagination
and one who does not
create out of imagination
a true artist is one who
dies together with others or lives alone forever
and one who does not die
together with others or live alone forever
a true artiest is one
concerned with beauty only
and one who is not
concerned with beauty only
a true artist is one who
dances wildly within a cage
and one who does not dance
wildly within a cage
-Good Day, Damocles
So, we have refastened the
sword above your head
With a digitalized net
instead of a horse hair
Fear, the one you have
been plagued by
Will never ruin your
Macdonald’s
or chop suey
Hanging like a candle
Good day, Democracy
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