In English syntax, they
say
An incomplete sentence is
unacceptable, often
Referred to as a fragment,
which
May have a part of speech
missing
Like the subject in
particular
Or the predicate, even the
main clause
But we always prefer
To omit the most important
entity
Be it you or me
In Chinese utterances
-MoreSpeculation,Less
Speed
how often have I tried
to find a short-cut to my
destinations
but more often than not
I actually went astray
wandering, zigzagging
driving back and forth
detouring without knowing
how much farther
I derailed myself, how
much more time
I wasted in a wrong place
Until I finally returned
to the original crossroad
Where I should have taken
the other path
Probably longer, but
definitely
With more assurance
-OverthePacific:AChanPoem
Flying high enough means
to
Traveling far enough
To a new realm, where
There is neither
borderline
Between sea and sky
Between day and night
Nor distinction
Between yesterday and
tomorrow
Where every shape is
softly roundish
Every line is tenderly
curvy
While all colors become
fluffily white
Like dehydrated snow
You would find yourself
sailing alone
To an outer Hyperborea
On a heavenly boat
With no more attachments
to the earth
There and then, your
entire selfhood
Shrinks into a tiny dot of
light
One and the same with your
soul, your spirit
Gliding, cruising
In perfect pacificity
-Urban-Portraits (1):-The-Pigeon-Feeder
No one knows
When the old man started
to do this
But every evening he would
prop up
From nowhere, coming
To the foot of a statue at
the square
With a dusk-painted
container
To feed the pigeons
Cooing and flapping around
Like wantons retuning home
for supper
Each time he would take
extra care
Making sure each bird got
its fair share
Whether it was warm or
chilly
Windy or rainy until one
day
He finally failed to
appear
Then another day, a third…
Later, he was found stone
dead
On his lonely bed, in a
rented room
Definitely bigger than a
cage
But containing no other
furniture
Even a desk, a chair
Except some bird food
Left on the window ledge
Two small paper boxes
Full of receipts from pawn
shops
And a note To Whom It May
Concern:
Please continue feeding
the pigeons
-Butterflies-at-Night
Some prefer to perch on
withered twigs
As if to add a little
color to the dark tree
Some dwelling under the
leaves of plants
Trying to hide from the
chilly moonlight
Some attaching themselves
to steep cliffs
Hoping to keep in line
with summer stars
Others simply squatting on
the bare ground
Fearing neither animal
feet nor heavy mists
While many like to roost
together
Most love to sleep or
dream alone
During the day they all
fly around like public figures
Yet at night they become
as solitary as private thinkers
-Golden-Pheasant
Showiest, you most
brilliant bird
Feathered with richest
Boldest whims and wishes
Though unable to fly
higher than a tree
Or farther than an arrow’s
range
Spending most of your time
aground
You would rather run,
stalking
In the heart of the forest
Roosting on treetops,
never intending
To show off your glaring
beauty
To any watching eye in the
distance
With a metallic voice, you
are simply too proud
To call attention from a
different species
-The-Confession-of-a-Worker Bee
We make two kinds of trips
One to suck nectar from
flowers
The other to obtain pollen
When we try to produce
honey
We transfer our loads to
each other
Mouth to mouth
In an endless process
To add enzymes to what
eventually
Gives honey its ‘shelf
life’
Yes, for the sake of
honey’s shelf life
We are happy to live only
a month to die
-Truth-about-Our-Firs-Cries
When we were born
We all cried glaringly
Above the tops of our own
voices
To our hearts’ full
Whether we were meant
To be singers or soldiers
Yes, we did cry hard then
(Even still crying now and
then)
Not because we were choked
With any pain or joy
But because our vocal
cords
Could not really help
Vibrating violently
Against the very first
breaths
We took from outside
Our moms’ wombs
That’s how we came to
this wild world
-The-Difficult-Discourse
You eat animal meat with
steel forks and knives
We eat plant leaves with
bamboo or wooden sticks
How can herbivores and
carnivores
Respect the same human
rights?
-A-Simple-Wish
When there is a long and
cold night
I want nothing but a
little corner
Of time, or a brief moment
Of space, where I would
Occupy myself, sitting
still
Trying to concentrate
As if in deep meditation
Watching for the first
rays of sunlight
Dispersing the shadows in
my mindscape
That’s my dream
-Urban-Portraits (2):-The-Bench-Lady
On each sunny Saturday
afternoon
The elderly woman would be
seen
All dressed up
From head to toe
Sitting all by herself
In her very best
On that same park bench
Both her face and clothing
shinier
Than the daylight
She would gaze long
Beyond the bay
At the tall trees
On a distant mountain
Like a proud queen
Reviewing her guards of
honor
Until at a cloudy moment,
her head fell down
On her shrunk shoulder,
once and for ever
-Teh
A finger neither deformed
nor really fat
But it happened to hit the
wrong key
At the right moment, or
the right key
At the wrong moment, thus
making
A handsome typo stand out
Among all normal-looking
words
On a different keyboard
You would be a thrilling
improvisation
A fresh note rather than a
strange noise
Or, like a comet in the
summer sky
You might strike the whole
night bright
You are never meant to be,
but you always are
The commonest nonsense
making perfect sense
In every context, or are
you not?
--Looking
Stop
Take a look
A really long and good
look
Beyond, the buildings
Beyond, the trees
Beyond, the clouds
Beyond, the skyline
Beyond, the light, the
figure
The name, the amount
The beauty, the power, the
mindscape
And see what you seem
To be and look at, or see
When you close your
strained eyes
What’s there to be and
see?
-A-Brief-History-of-Calligraphy
The first words were
written
With twigs on the ground
Like seagulls’
footprints on the beach
Later, they were written
With water on wooden
surfaces
Like a solder’s blood in
a stream
Then, more were written
With a brush on bamboo
chips
Like pictures painted on
poles
Others with colored ink on
paper
Like symbols tattooed on
the human skin
But now all words are hit
Against a hard keyboard
rather than written
On a soft sheet of paper
Something one can touch
Fold, crumple up
With a hand
Or with the heart
-Snow-Beginning-to-Fall-Outside
While he tries to draw a
mountain
With an ink-dripping brush
On a wide sheet of rice
paper
It begins to snow outside
Paints the whole city with
winter white
Dotting his work like a
leopard, roaming
Looming along the
borderline
Between the city and the
season
His strokes getting blurry
among falling flakes
All the trees become
frozen, retreating to the horizon
Except a black bird still
beating its wings
Against the mountain range
in front of his eyes
Against the snowfall
outside of his home
-At-the-Intersection
A huge cross paved hard
with cement
They can never carry it
away
From the heart of their
city
Though all traffic lights
remain green
-Last-Resort
Twisting sunlight
Between her palms
She made a thick rope
To tie her little canoe
To a warm season
But as she returns
To cross the river
She finds her boat
Has long drifted away
-Dualism
Your body can fly high in
the blue sky
But only to find itself
still caged
Behind the naked bars of
your mind
-Human-Humor
We are all born to be
birds
That can fly high in the
outer sky
But since we came down for
a rest
We have been caught on
this huge web
Weaved with five-colored
silk
Stickier and stronger
Than our will or wisdom
That is spewed by fame
Wealth, power, sex, habit
Thus beginning our
lifelong struggle
Until our very last
flapping
-The-Calendar/Yearbook: An Allegory of Antiself
January
Standing
alone
At
this coldest spot of the doorway
You
pause, wondering which door to
Knock
at, which to
Push
or pull
So
you can go inside
A
warm room where you know
You
cannot stay for the whole year
Nor
would you come out of the same door
But
which to enter:
The
narrow door with a wide exit
Or
the wide one with a narrow exit?
February
Rolling,
flowing, dripping
From
the palest memories of last year
The
melting snow stops moving
But
hung everywhere
Like
crystals
Against
the freezing fits of frantic winds
With
the moon always broken
In
this shortest month of the pearl
No
love can be purified
No
couple can enjoy a full honeymoon
March
At
this true, truer outset of the year
When
the world finally awakens
From
its prolonged white hibernation
When
we can march forward like soldiers
With
the steadiest steps
Every
life can now
Give
a morning kiss
To
earth, to the landscape
Without
mask or cosmetics
April
All
plants beginning to burgeon
Open
their hands and hearts widely
To
draw inspirations
From
the season
To
play with spring spirits
While
the ghosts of those doomed to die
Within
the year are stalking behind us
Some
to the church
Some
to the mind
Others
to the corners of night
May
Seeds
of hope, seeds of love
Deeply
planted since last winter
In
the fertility of
Dreams,
expectations
All
come into blossom
In
every heart beating against sunlight
On
every face beaming with smile
At
every twig reaching into the sky
Just
when leaves grow fullest, freshest
Before
they begin to fade, or fail
June
Come,
come to the open fields
Let’s
embrace most daylight
Of
the whole year
In
this northern hemisphere
Where
we can stay young, younger
Enjoying
our honeymoon
With
the sun, with light
With
warmth
Instead
of cold darkness
That
is dominating the other
Half
of the world
July
Dogs
are making human history (right)
When
humans deal with dog days (right)
When
the sullen, sultry sky witnesses:
Fraud,
fervor, frenzy -- yes
It
is our inner heat that has been
Warming
the whole atmosphere
Like
Julius’s inflated heart
August
With
stone fruits
Like
plums, apricots, preaches
Ripening
rapidly
In
this month of the sickle
It
is high time to cut open
The
secrets of sunlight
In
their hardened hearts
Wrapped
with the fleshiest
The
juiciest season
September
In
the open fields
Nothing
is left
Except
bare stems, deep holes, bald twigs
But
behind each closed door
Is
a cozy room
Rented
or owned, full of
Colored
fruit, plump seeds
And
overflowing minds
October
Burning,
blooming
Like
spring flowers
All
tree leaves
Giggle,
guffawing
With
the west wind
In
their fierce defiance
Against
the elegy of the land
Recited
aloud
In
blood-throated voices
November
Most
monotonous month:
Each
passing day is depressed
Into
a crow, its wings
Its
body and tails
Newly
glazed in the mists
Of
thick dusk
Though
its heart still
Lingers
in the memory of
Summer’s
orange morning glows
December
As
the sun sinks deeper every day
Into
the other side of the world
The
shadow is getting longer, darker
Making
our lives slant more and more
Towards
night, when nature
Tries
to balance yin and yang
By
covering each dark corner
With
white snowflakes
Ever
so softly, quietly
As
each twig frowns hard at twilight
Why
not give it smile and thus
Book
a space in heaven?
-Yellow Joke: A Chronicle Poem
The
first three years of age reveal all in a lifetime –Chinese Proverb
Age
1
Born
to a heliocentric species
You
have accomplished your very first
Revolution
in the solar system, like the sunflower
Growing
behind the fence
Of
your father’s front yard
With
no milk from my mother or a cow
I
had to live entirely on flour soup
Not
so nutritious to my legs and hands
But
helpful with the growth of my heart
Though
it is congenitally ischemic
Age
2
After
numerous assisted trials
You
start to walk alone, walk along
Constantly
tumbling,
Hurting
yourself hard,
But
you have to stand up
On
your own, since you can now
Cry,
scream, speak, give orders, ask for help
Even
though it’s just a 2 word sentence
Age
3
A
time of temper tantrums
Imaginative
fears, nightmares
When
you begin to touch shadows
With
your chubby hands
With
the even chubbier fingers
Of
your hypertrophic heart
-Witness-Wanted
On
the fast lane, right here
Near
the intersection between
Capitalism
and communism
During
the earliest hours
Around
21st century
A
reddish China was rear-ended
-Kinship:-For-Yuan-Hongqi
Yes,
we are father and son, but so often
Did
I doubt this simple small biofact:
We
could never say more than three short
Sentences
to each other when we met, nor
Did
we meet more than three times per year
Before
I managed to flee a thousand miles
Away
from you, and later ten thousand away
From
your village on this world’s other side
Like
other Chinese fathers, you never said
You
loved me, gave me a hug, or touched me
Unless
it was a cutting pinch in the arm
Or
a heavy hit on the butt, (always in surprise)
While
my peers kept bragging aloud
About
their great fathers, grandfathers
I
looked down upon you, not because of
Your
slight stature, but because of your
Smaller
personality, constantly calling you
‘A
Buddha outside, a Devil at home’
(Of
course behind your back), so I used to
Feel
guilty, fearing I could never shed
Any
teardrops when you die, just as every
True
Confucian son is supposed to
Unlike
me and my son, with a big store of
Co-memories
ready to share, to cherish
We
were born enemies, karma-determined
In
our former lives, just as you had explained
To
my mother, (who would be busy filling
In
each new crack on our wall, with a big pail
Of
muddy mixture every time we met)
Yet
ever since your death at the dawn of 2012
I
have been haunted by your image, kindly
Smiling,
and even sobbed my heart out
While
dreaming last night: are you there, Dad?
-Egg*-Poems (1): -n-English-Sketch-of-Semi-Colonial-China
Wearing
cheongsam
These
poor coolies
arrived here
On
sampans
Always
ready to kowtow
To
a tycoon
Who
lived in Shangri-La
Eating
dim sum
Drinking
oolong
Playing
mahjong
Gambling
in a casino every
day
Though
reluctant to give cumshaw
*A
word (or person) with a Chinese origin living in the West is often
called an ‘egg,’ which is white-skinned, but yellow-hearted.
Egg* Poems (2): An English Sketch of Mandarin China
Led
by dao
A
yin
Running
dog
Wearing
qipao
Is
fighting against a yang
Paper
tiger
With
wushu
After
getting brainwashed
Through
maotai
Like
a taikongnaut
At
a fengshui spot
Dominated
by qi
*A
word (or person) with a Chinese origin living in the West is often
called an ‘egg,’ which is white-skinned, but yellow-hearted.
Egg*
Poems (3): An English Sketch of Ancient China
They
used to drink tea
Wear
silk
Eat
from china
Think
in terms of zen
And
practice Confucianism
Only
- is it true?
*A
word (or person) with a Chinese origin living in the West is often
called an ‘egg,’ which is white-skinned, but yellow-hearted.
Egg* Poems: An English Languacultural History of China
1/
Ancient China
They
used to drink tea
Wear
silk
Eat
from china
Think
in terms of zen
And
practice Confucianism
Only
- is it true?
2/
Semi-Colonial China
Wearing
cheongsam
These
poor coolies
arrived here
On
sampans
Always
ready to kowtow
To
a tycoon
Who
lived in Shangri-La
Eating
dim sum
Drinking
oolong
Playing
mahjong
Gambling
in a casino every
day
Though
reluctant to give cumshaw
3/
Mandarin China
Led
by dao
A
yin
Running
dog
Wearing
qipao
Is
fighting against a yang
Paper
tiger
With
wushu
After
getting brainwashed
Through
maotai
Like
a taikongnaut
At
a fengshui spot
Dominated
by qi
*A
word (or person) with a Chinese origin living in the West is often
called an ‘egg,’ which is white-skinned, but yellow-hearted.
-Hallucination
As
if straight from heaven
A
young snowy seagull charges down
Trying
to pick up the entire ocean
With
its bold beak
Just
when the tsunami raises
All
its fierce fists
To
protect against earth’s agitation
In
foamy darkness
When
no one seems to stand
On
the beach, watching
-BirdvsSea
As
if straight from heaven
A
young snowy seagull charges down
Like
a lightning strike
Trying
to pick up the entire ocean
With
its bold beak
As
the tide raises
All
its fierce fists
To
protect against earth’s agitation
In
foamy darkness
Far
away, no one seems to stand
On
the beach, watching
-Killing-Time
On
a lazy Saturday afternoon
If
you have nothing better to do
Why
not try this:
Gather
together
All
the shadows
Of
the past week
Fold
them into cranes
And
hang them high
In
the house of your heart
As
if to follow an ancient tradition
Or
simply fly them afar
Into
the enlightened space of history
-Tomb-Visiting:-For-Yuan-Hongqi
Last
year, before burying your ashes
Right
beside Grandma’s grave site
(To
guard her Buddhaship, as you had
Wished),
I opened your urn for a peek
And
found your biggest bone chip
Glistening
against the January wind
As
pink as a piece of charcoal
Now,
too far to attend your anniversary
Like
every other good Confucian son
Burning
joss sticks and fake money
Lighting
a huge pile of firecrackers
Before
your tombstone, on Big Wok Peak
But
I did make three loud kowtows
Towards
the east, and in so doing
I
saw a little rosy cloud drifting around
Like
an inflated bird beating its wings
Along
the horizon, amid evening glows
And
wondered whether that’s your spirit
Still
lingering between earth and heaven
What
was it tightly holding in its beak:
A
heirloom, or simply our family name?
-Phonism
Even
in the dead
Heart
of night
I
often hear
A
short blunt saw
Working
aloud
As
if to fell down
The
old tall oak tree
Standing
high against the sky
On
an unknown hilltop
Beyond
the map
Of
my mind
Are
you listening to what you have heard
Or
can you hear what you are listening to?
-Photism
Although
born with a weak vision
I
always enjoy watching the stars
Bluish
or silver
Getting
filtered
One
after another
Out
of the cosmos
And
seeing them
Falling
right
Into
the boldest pages
Of
history
Hallucination
(2)
1/
Photism
Although
born with a weak vision
I
always enjoy watching the stars
Bluish
or silver
Getting
filtered
One
after another
Out
of the cosmos
And
seeing them
Falling
right
Into
the boldest pages
Of
history
2/
Phonism
Even
in the dead
Heart
of night
I
often hear
A
short blunt saw
Working
aloud
As
if to fell down
The
old tall oak tree
Standing
high against the sky
On
an unknown hilltop
Beyond
the map
Of
my mind
Are
you listening to what you have heard
Or
can you hear what you are listening to?
-IllustrativeIllusions (1)
still
hanging
on
that twig
like
a deflated crow
is
the tree’s last leaf
the
shadow of your soul
that
refuses to fall
to
the autumn ground
instead,
it is getting ready to fly away
into
another valley
where
winter is delayed
or
whitewashed
-IllustrativeIllusions (2):
Wedged
deep
Between
dawn and dusk
Is
a hardened shadow
Like
a chilly night
When
long acupuncture needles
From
the mid-autumn moon
Kept
down-pouring
Onto
my consciousness
Soon,
winter will come
To
cover my inner land
With
blue snowflakes
As
in the Arctic
Though
no one has ever seen them
-IllustrativeIllusions
1/
Leaf
still
hanging
on
that twig
like
a deflated crow
is
the tree’s last leaf
the
shadow of your soul
that
refuses to fall
to
the autumn ground
instead,
it is getting ready to fly away
into
another valley
where
winter is delayed
or
whitewashed
2/
Moonlight
Wedged
deep
Between
dawn and dusk
Is
an autumn moon
That
kept down-hurling
Its
acupuncture needles
Onto
my consciousness
Before
winter comes
To
cover my inner land
With
blue snowflakes
As
in the Arctic
Though
no one has ever seen them
-WinterGame
With
my son
I
made a handsome snowman
Out
of our boyhoods
Standing
like a guard of honor
In
front of our home, where a big crow
Tried
to drive the wind
Out
of winter, but both of us
Became
naked inside out
As
the snow starts to melt
From
head to toe
From
skin to heart
Bit
by bit
Under
a warm sun
Arising
all too soon
-Replacing
Having
squeezing out
Every
blood-soaked syllable
Out
of your callous throat
Out
of your ischemic heart
You
have become deflated, wishing
The
starlight of the whole night
To
be injected into your being
Like
a fully-blown balloon
Rising
to the borderline
Between
day and night, where the sun
Will
set you off into a blast
Exploding
your entire selfhood
Into
myriads of shreds, drifting along
The
skyline, amid morning glows
-NaturalConfrontations (5):
1/
Grass
Inspired
by spring’s spirit
You
turn all your life
Into
a pair of green swords
No
matter how many times
Your
head and heart
Are
both trodden
You
still hold them high
Against
the entire sky
2/
Leaf
Like
a wounded soldier
Firmly
holding his position
You
are the only one
Still
hanging on there
To
blockade the invasion
Of
a whole cold season
3/
Firefly
Burst
with courage
You
try to use
Your
little light
Like
a sharp scissor tip
To
rip off the curtain
Of
all summer darkness
-NaturalConfrontations (6)
1/
Cloud
With
a body so light
Soft,
short, never
Even
having a fixed shape
You
resist the strongest summer sun
Trying
to shield all its rays
Like
arrows
Shot
down
Towards
the human world
2/
Octopus
To
escape
From
your predator
You
eject a wet night
Into
the seawater
As
if to dye the whole ocean
Into
darkness
-Recalling:FoYuanHongqi
‘Wait
a while!’ Mother would shout, ‘they say
There
might be more showers this afternoon.’
So I recalled, from time to time
How
he would turn a deaf ear to her
And
continue, dragging out quilts
Sheets,
pillows, blankets, padded coats
One
pile after another
Like
moving forests
Hanging
them on thick ropes
Tied
to deformed poplars or lamp posts
‘Not
again! This old man of mine just wouldn’t
Want
to waste a single ray of sunlight.’
And
remembered, for nearly half a century
My
dad had tried each time to empty the whole house
And
sun-wash everything, more like a grandma
Than
like a father, even during the Cultural Revolution
Now
realizing how I have been haunted
By
his stark image, smiling, in blue, ever since
He
nodded his head to Mother for the last time
About
5 pm on January 2 last year
I
find myself choked again with gratitude:
It
was my father who gave me so many a chance
To
smell fresh sunlight in my boyish nightmares
-8NewNaturalConfrontations
Orchid
Deep in the valley
Alone on a shady spot
You bloom aloud, though
There are neither eyes
Nor ears open nearby
Paying the slightest
attention
To your shape or melody
Be it ever so fragrant
So fulfilling
Lotus
From foul, decayed silt
At the very bottom
Of a big lake of dirty
murk
You shoot clean
Against the morning sun
Always pure
Crystal
Unpollutable
Corn
With a small body
Of teeth, you have bitten
off
Every golden minute
From the warm day
Hoping to collect and
store
All the sunlight
Of the passing season
Cuckoo
With a thin
Blood-throated voice
You call out aloud
Trying to wake up
Millions of millions
Of trees and rocks
All deeply lost in
Their cold dreams
Of last winter
Ant
Stretching its hair-like
limbs
As far as it can
The ant embracing
The tallest Douglas tree
In the forest
Attempts to shake off
All its leaves
Branches, and even
To uproot it
Vortex
Turning, twirling
In ever smaller circles
A vortex in the stream
Seems to be sucking in
All the waters on earth
Like the black hole
Trying to swallow
The whole universe
Feather
A white fluffy plume
From an unknown bird
Happening to fly by
Drifts around, falling
down
Slowly as if to wipe out
All the dust at dusk
With its invisible fingers
Squirrel
With a thin line of blood
Dripping along
From its new wound
A squirrel runs rapidly
Across the street
Wishing to melt, or warm
up
The whole icy winter
-SpontaneousSpoonerism
Good
ladies, evening and gentlemen
It
is kistomary to cuss the bride now
Or
give three cheers for the queer old dean
(Excuse
me, but you are occupewing my pie)
Since
the world was in a reep depression
We
all have nurtured only a half-warmed fish
To
make, even the most highly played payer
Cannot
afford to drink a tup of kea every day
Why
the bay, have you forgotten how to
Mount
koney, say, with noman rumerals?
Anyway,
if suffering from a stick neff
You’d
better loop before you leak, or else
You
would trip over the power flot, break
The
black bloxes, or wit the hall with a big bam
Now,
are you beeling fetter?
-January2: ForYuaHongqi
That
was the day when my father died
Before
finishing the longevity noodles
Mom’s
trying to feed him below our feet
On
the other face of the planet, where
He
had persisted long enough to allow
Us
to celebrate another new year’s day
In
Jingzhou as well as in Vancouver
When
my brother’s only son managed to
Travel
all the way to Grandpa’s dying bed
To
report how he was doing in New York
This
was also the time when I and Hengxiang
Felt
like making love again after another
Cold
war, when Iran successfully testfired
Two
long-range missiles in the Persian Gulf
To
deter the invasion to be led by Uncle Sam
And
his running dogs, when the very first
Plymouth
Neon was made in 2000, when JFK
Became
a senator in 1960, when a stamped
Took
66 human lives after a soccer game
At
the Ibrox Park Stadium in Scotland
Even
earlier, and when God was taking
A
long overdue nap, since he knew
All
was well with this wild wild world
On
that day, I became the oldest male
In
my entire family, ready to take my turn
To
deal with death in a masculine manner
-Y
Youlove‘Y’, not because it’s the first letter
In
your family name, but because it’s like
A
horn, which the water buffalo in your
Native
village uses to fight against injustice
Or,
because it’s like a twig, where a crow
Can
come down to perch, a cicada can sing
Towards
the setting sun as loud as it wants to
More
important, in Egyptian hieroglyphics
It
stands for a real reed, something you can
Bend
into a whistle or flute; in pronouncing it
You
can get all the answers you need, besides
You
can make it into a heart-felt catapult
And
shoot at a snakehead or sparrow, as long
As
it is within the range of your boyhood
你喜欢‘Y'，并非因为它是你姓名的
第一个字母，
而是因为它像一只角
你故乡的水牛用以反抗一切不公平
或者，因为它像秋天的树枝
乌鸦可以在上面栖息，
蝉可以驻足
对着夕阳尽情地鸣唱，更重要的是
在古埃及的象形文字中，它代表一杆
真正的芦苇，你可以将其折成一只哨笛
而读出它的声音，
你可获得你所想要的
一切答案，此外，
你还可以把它做成一副
舒心的弹弓，
用它射击蛇头或家雀
只要它们处于淘气男孩的射程范围之内
-Arborealesthetics
1/
Every tree is unique not only in shape but also in spirit.
2/
No tree tries to appear different, but it naturally grows to be so.
3/
Trees are much more beautiful than humans, in general as well as in
particular.
4/
Each tree leaf facing towards the sun is clearer, sleeker and
brighter.
5/
All leaves are strictly symmetrical, but no two twigs or trunks are
exactly identical.
6/
A crow or human may not be distinguished from its like, but a tree
always can.
7/
Young or old, plump or skinny, living or dead, each tree is handsome
its own way.
8/
Never tired of standing, trees have feelings, impulses, attitudes,
thoughts and dialects.
9/
Every tree ring keeps a growing secret at heart.
10/
Trees may look more graceful as they dance in the wind, but they
actually prefer rain.
11/
Whoever appreciates the beauty of a tree is rich, wise and healthy.
12/
A tree always keeps its head, heart and hands wildly open.
13/
The beauty of a twig, a trunk, or the whole tree is deeper than its
heart.
14/
Every tree is a great artwork of line, shape and color.
15/
Two trees may grow together, but they never lose their independent
individuality.
16/
Trees may bend or break in a storm, but they never budge from their
position in life.
17/
Obscure or outstanding, no tree pays serious attention to the
comments of the wind.
-WashroomWisdom:AGraffitiPoemFoundOnline
- Since writing on toilet walls is done neither for critical acclaim nor for financial rewards, it is the purest form of art – Discuss
- If you don’t imagine, nothing happens at all
- Be aware that you’re lying to yourself
- Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity
- Ladies, I pee’d in your restroom, I’m sorry but mine was locked
- If we were more aware of our mortality, would we become kinder to each other?
- Language is a virus
- Men are like panty hose; they either run cling or don’t fit right in the crotch
- It is the height of arrogance and the height of control for those that created God in their own image
- The toilet was so high that I felt like a queen
- Life is about the journey; don’t forget
- Think more about working less
- Immigrants: you are in Canada, speak English
- I feel like this is the only real mark I’ll ever make in this world
- Please do not graffiti in the restroom
-ComputerCouplets
Loading
Please
wait [for Godot?
Temporarily
disconnected
Now
connected [to the Peach Blossom Garden!
-PostmodernisminaWashroom
Dear
Music,
Why
can’t we just get along?
Sincerely,
Art.
Dear
Art,
It’s
because we is so much more intellectual than you are.
Duh
-OntheRoad: FreeVerseFoundOnline
1.
To get your vehicle out of a skid, you should first:
a.
Steer straight ahead.
b.
Steer in the opposite direction of the skid.
c.
Steer in the direction you want to go.
d.
Apply brakes hard.
2.
When may you lend your driver's licence?
a.
In emergencies.
b.
To a person learning to drive.
c.
It is not permitted.
d.
For identification purposes.
3.
What must a driver do before entering a highway from a private road
or driveway?
a.
Enter or cross the highway as quickly as possible.
b.
Yield right-of-way to all vehicles approaching on the highway.
c.
Sound horn and proceed with caution.
d.
Give hand signal then take right-of-way.
4.
Never change lanes in traffic without:
a.
Looking in the rear view mirror only.
b.
Giving proper signal and looking to make sure the move can be made
safely.
c.
Blowing your horn and looking to the rear.
d.
Decreasing speed and giving correct signal.
5.
When the driver of another vehicle is about to overtake and pass your
vehicle, you must:
a.
Speed up so that passing is not necessary.
b.
Move to the left to prevent passing.
c.
Signal to the other driver not to pass.
d.
Move to the right and allow such vehicle to pass.
6.
When you are deciding whether or not to make a U-turn, your first
consideration should be to check:
a.
Traffic regulations.
b.
Presence of trees, fire hydrants or poles near the curb.
c.
Turning radius of your car.
d.
Height of curb.
7.
It is more dangerous to drive at the maximum speed limit at night
than during daytime as:
a.
Your reaction time is slower at night.
b.
You cannot see as far ahead at night.
c.
Some drivers unlawfully drive with parking lights only.
d.
The roadways are more apt to be slippery at night.
8.
You should under all conditions drive at a speed which will allow you
to:
a.
Stop within 150 metres (500 feet).
b.
Stop within 90 metres (300 feet).
c.
Stop within 60 metres (200 feet).
d.
Stop within a safe distance.
[Answer
Key: 1-c, 2-c, 3-b, 4-b, 5-d, 6-a, 7-b, 8-d]
-ScienceStory: AParallelPoem
I
kayaked out of the bay on a Saturday evening
And
was sucked there into a blue twirling ring
When
I was nailed firm at the centre of a light stream
A
pink snow falls though I wish to rise like the steam
My
consciousness dissolves into heavenly waters
And
I become present everywhere in the universe
I
travelled afar to collect all my selves and assemble them together
And
here I return to this moment, finding my old self a total stranger
-Marriage Report: Free Verse Found Online
Well, for
those of you who went out today, I don't have to tell you it was
clear, but muggy for most of the state, with the high temperatures in
the low to mid 90s. The had the high for the day of 97 degrees. And
that's hot. I'm glad I'm working indoors today!
For those of you planning outdoor activities tomorrow,
you can expect fair skies for most of Saturday with temperatures in
the high 90's. However, things might change by Saturday evening with
a storm front moving in. We can expect light scattered showers over
the northern part of the state bringing slightly cooler temperatures
in the eighties, but this rain should taper off by mid Sunday
morning. It will be partly cloudy for most of the morning, but these
clouds should move out by mid-afternoon.
Skies should be clear Sunday night for those wanting to
catch a glimpse of the partial lunar eclipse. It should start at
10:47 pm. And that's all for today's weather.
-InCarnations: ForLiuYu
Like
broken pieces
Of
charcoal, glistening
Against
spring cold
These
pink petals
Are
not tears you
Shed
over my death
Rather,
they are
Incarnations
of
God
and Devil
Blooming
in blood
Out
of my heart
But
do not feel sad, Mother
-13May2012: ForLiuYu
This
is the very first and last time
We
celebrate a non-Chinese holiday
Here
in a chosen country
At
a chosen time: Today, I have had
A
chance to treat my mom (visiting us
From
the other side of the world
After
my dad’s death) to a dinner
At
Southsea Fish Village, where she tasted
Dishes
like abalone and shark fin soup
Finally
affordable, all freshly served
Out
of my poetry, before my poet son
Cut
my wife a single lilac flower
From
the front yard of his teenager heart
-English Vowels: A Python Poem
I
feel either abstemious
Or
facetious whenever you
Use
buoyancies to
E.raise
the conceptuality
As
well as its uncopyrightable traces
-MoreMaxims/Monolets
1/
Whatever is ultimately desirable, be it true happiness, true peace,
or true well-being, can be attained only through within.
2/
The worth of a life is best measured by the change it has introduced
to the world.
3/
Whoever can find joy and beauty in a plain tree is rich, wise and
healthy.
4/
If put aside for too long, the most wind-resistant match will fail to
strike a fire.
5/
All the mysteries in the human world can be decoded by this simple
fact: we are not the only intellectual beings on earth.
6/
Schooling has become not only an interruption of education, but also
an interference of the intellectual.
7/
Every fashion is fabricated for the most foolish to follow.
8/
While the respectable are always respectful, the adoring are seldom
adorable.
9/
The wealthy or the well-known are definitely among the lucky ones,
but the lucky ones are not always truly rich or famous.
-MyCrow: ARecursivePoem
Spotting
a shadow
Above
the horizon
In
my inner ocean
The
snowy crow
Mistook
it for the land
And
has never returned
To
my little ark
Still
struggling
Against
sweeping waves
-D8: A MSG TXT Or a Cell Poem
WUD?
R U OK?
PPL
WANT C U
Y?
–COZ U R GR8
I 4
1, I WAN2 C U 2
Y?
– I LV U
OIC.
U R XLNT2
I
WAN2 C U 2
TTYL
C U
2MORO NITE
LOL
-Again, On the Road
With
great power and
Full
control of a vehicle
You
may well enjoy driving
But
only theoretically
In
reality, you have to travel
On
a road, always pre-set
Even
if it’s supposed to be a‘freeway’
Not
to mention moving in the traffic
Where
the front car never allows you
To
pass, or bothers to give you a signal
When
making a turn, where the one
Right
behind you tries to kiss your ass
Zigzagging
or high-beaming in protest
While
a police patrol hides in a corner
Ready
to find fault with you, while you
Have
to stop at every intersection
For
the red light, that most hateful
Most
tyrannical color in life
Until
you go mad among human hostilities
Here
in Vancouver, full of one-way streets
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