A Happy Life
Is, perforce
A healthy and
Heartfelt one from which
You have long since learned
To make light of the darkest
Present moment while
Anticipating another nice surprise
Falling upon you
Anytime tomorrow
Flappy Mephlapperson
Like that tracking device
Tied on your fluffy back is my soul
A chip implanted deep
Into yours. What keeps us
Migrating from country to country
Without a passport, from day to day
Without a visa is our integrated soul
Trying to find its way to our ultimate home
In the outer space beyond our cuckooish reality
In the outer space beyond our cuckooish reality
Trying to find its wat to our ultimate home
Without a visa is our integrated soul
Without a passport, from day to day
Migrating from country to country
Into yours. What keeps us
Is a chip implanted deep
Tied on your fluffy back is my soul
Like that tracking device
The Higher the Climb, the Harder the Fall
Elevated far
Higher up
Above the tallest god
In the ninth sky
Our mind has now finally began to fall
Falling low
So much lower
Even than our body
On earth
Sub-Selfhood
Containing all our
Genetics, spiritual and
Physiological, each cell is
A self in its own right, and
Has an independent
Lifespan, nurtured with plenty of
Earthly elements. Each of us is a unity
Of as many selves as countless cells, as
Illustrated in a textbook of cellular biology
Nesting
With withered grasses from epics
Sticks from philosophy
Feathers from contemporary art
We are all busy building nests of meaning
So our souls could settle there
High up as if on Ygdrasil
At the Earthset
As the Earth sets
Concurrently
With all its satellites
Its bluish reflections are dispersed
Into the darkness of light
And so is every colony
Of human civilization
Self-Healing
Every wound heals in time
But I keep mine always open
Not because I fear the scar
But because my soul needs
To get some sunlight
Especially on a rainy day
Metaphor Updated
Each poem is a cyber space
Full of informative possibilities
Non-linear, irrational
Ready to overwhelm one
With spontaneous overflows of
Unidentifiable consciousness
Tangent
A comet
Striking across the earth
On a starry midsummer night
A whim
Flying from a human mind
Bent low in seasonal insomnia
Houyi’s arrow
Shooting towards the sun
From the bank of the Wei River, while
Some clouds
Sailing right above the moon
Like snow geese migrating over the artic
Two Halves Make More Than One
Half angel and half demon
Make more than a woman
Half gentleman and half animal
Make more than a man
Half giving and half gaining
Make more than a family
Half feeling and half ignorance
Make more than a happy life
Half wake and half dream
Make more than a lifetime
Soliloquy on Being Solitary
What a soul
You’ve got!:
Handsome
Hard-fated
High-spirited
Hardworking
But have you found
Your other half yet?
God knows I just cannot
Even someone
To think of, let alone a mate
To share my pasts or futures
Epiphany on Meaning
Oftentimes I find meaning has long been exhausted
But once I spotted a human construction site which,
Abandoned near a mountain, has become a natural
Monument. Vines crawling rampantly everywhere
As if from written literature. Birds try to colonize
The area by building nests with as many sticks, feathers and
Grasses as forlorn words. At the centre is a blood-colored
Pool of water, full of rotten corpses of white snow geese
Far away, almost on the other side of the world is
A tremendous iceberg of plastics growing every second
To form the largest continent on earth. Had each
Dinosaur been a bloated meme, it would have evolved
Into a complete statement of politics, either today
Or tomorrow. Like the mind, like the poem
On a Scale from 0 to 10
Do you think you can attain happiness?
To which degree do you know, respect and love yourself?
Do you agree your pain, disappointment and failure do exist?
How important is meaning to you?
Xmas
In my quiet winter block, snow is falling
To cover every footprint, smoothing every sharp corner
Wrapping every skeletal plant, but the walled air
Is thickening with loud sounds. Head feels
Hollow. Even hollower is my rented room
Watching the cold flame burning artificially
In the fireplace, I find no one to talk to
Even to think of. Most people I know have
All vanished. Too much attachment is
Too hard for me. I seem to hear echoes of
Holiday greetings from unknown sources
Opening the fridge, I hesitate a long time
About what to heat for my last supper. Yes
As a cockroach crawls as fast as light itself
I am ready to say farewell to you, dear all
Quiescence
Elsewhere bears charge downhill
Trampling crops in the fields. How
They dance and destroy wildly
In the shadow of a crisis
On the headlines seems as if to
Strike
Into my heart some unknown terror
Capitualation. In fact, I watch
You vacuuming the carpet when
A few tiny ants are sucked in
Around your feet, how you paid
No attention to them there, and
Perhaps
I hoped to forget the connection
Between the market and the carpet
In the muted rhythm of a vacuum
And wanted it this way
Though only in imagination
Like Father, Unlike Daughter
A lost and found photo of George’s as a toddler
Shows Kate has picked up more genes from him
Than from his wife (or, his almost 100%
Chinese genes are stronger than her 70%
Korean ones). However, Kate is not like
Her father, who began to speak, both articulately
And meaningfully, around age one, while she,
Conceived and born deep in Sillicon Valley
Is so confused like an unstable form of AI
Her innermost chip does not know which
Syllables to pick up at home. Perhaps only
When she grows old enough for preschool
Will she be able to follow a systematic trend
And become a subject of the Empire of English?
Platonic Parody
When light finally penetrates the cave
With myriad quanta of enlightenment, are
The shadows actually the artificial projections
Of darkness on the wall, or the congenital
Deformities of our own vision in the mind?
Were light a liquid or something else, it may
Splash all over us according to the law
Of spiritual physics, but for now, we are all
Entangled with words, or ideas of idea on earth
How Transience Trespasses
The tender reach of snowflakes
Kissing the landscape with their entire
Bodies – what were left of their hearts
They embrace each sound
With a crystalized melody from above
In a way they fly with my thought
But also embrace my voice
However, the season
Will forget us, and
Do so all in wet, far beyond
A dying vision. Feel sorry
For me?
2018, 5, 10 [Thursday]
Backwards Day
While walking backwards as a physical therapy for my back, I sometimes hear people say…
Impressive!
Good exercise!
Remind you are walking backwards!
What’s this for?
New trend, eh?
Watch out!
On your right!
Happy backwards day!
Sorry, my dog gets confused!
[But I am sure where I am going]
You Stay, I Go
Time is the only locale
Permanently set in the middle of
Cosmic consciousness
A vast invisible rock
Sitting right there in stillness
While each of us passes by
Essence of Life
All the pasts are just memory
All the futures are but imagination
Except the present moment
The true concurrent story
The only reality that is taking place outside
Your body to fill in the blank in your mind
The Car Running on the Freeway
The rear mirror is so much smaller
Because what has already passed is
Never going to be a traffic hazard
But the wind shield must perforce
Be wide and large enough to look ahead
Far into the destination of future
Whereas the views on the two sides
Are as irrelevant to the driver
As the stars and clouds in the sky
Dog vs Horse
To live a happy life
Is to tame a horse
By constantly accommodating it
Rather than to imitate a dog
Running around, eager
To please its master
Rocket Diameter and Horse Butt
The width of a horse butt
Determined that of a roman
Chariot, which in turn determined
The standard distance
Between two rails, which again
Determined the width of a tunnel, which has
Ever since determined the diameter of a rocket
For a space shuttle just newly determined, which
All Roads Lead to Your Innerself
Unlike Narcissus getting himself drowned
While lost in his own beauty reflected in the water
You will live happily ever after, once
You put aside your clothes, masks, shadows
And your reflections, shake off your pretentiousness
Forget your other half, your children, your car
Your house, but just stop to stay still, accept the flowers
Your inner being collects for you on the Valentine’s
Day, and falls in love with your most authentic selfhood
Hide & Seek
Just a few decades before
They all hid their souls behind
Printed words, between fading lines
Beyond the margins of memories
Seeking them turned out more a matter
Of death than an enjoyable game
Now they’ve resurrected in the cyberspace
Their bodies reappearing on the stage
As a virtual reality, their inner beings surfing
Along a new surge of adrenaline, while my selfhood
Gets drowned in a swirl as the dead observe me
Lingering on at the edge of a black hole
lonely
Is more than one word, where (or
When) ‘one’ is sandwiched
Between two wall-like ‘l’s
Driven (or followed)
By a vowel of reason
The Tourist
Is a postman of last century
Visiting one household after another
Trying to deliver a message enveloped
At each threshold
Soiling
Those birds are pecking deep
Into my front yard, beaking out
Each worm, enjoying their delicious
Intake – they are so happy
I wanted to be one of them
Even if it’s only in my fantasy
From behind the window, I found
No human disturbance outside, except
The peaceful lawn being destroyed
As if by an alien fleet of bombers
My Son’s Voice
Ever since my son became a father
In his own right, his voice seems to
Have broken again: rather than look
At me with his whites, turn a deaf ear
To me, ready to jump away from my
Presence as if his tail were trodden
Breathe in and out deliberately aloud
Give me an ugly face, he now speaks
In a more controlled tone, which sounds
Lower, softer, even tenderer. I know how
It has taken a whole fatherhood for me to
Speak like this to my father, who is now
No longer able to hear, no matter how loud
I yell or sing towards his otherworldly ears
The Collaboration
Whether made of wood, bamboo
Or metal, we go intimately
Like a pair of chopsticks
Together we pick up
A slippery dumpling, or throw away
A leaf far from fresh
Sometimes in a parallel position, other
Times with a slight angle between, but
Always working together in duo
To taste every dish
On the one and
The same table
Blue Hour
In the blue hour the words
Become more and more clear (or
Blurry, invisible until lost in full
Darkness, (or glaring in morning glows
Depending on the beginning), or
The ending of the day), you can squeeze
Meaning out of the damp pages, so meaning
Gathers, (trickling into the pool of consciousness
(In the blue hour, the light is getting weaker)
Just when I come to understand what’s
Behind the words), what’s between
Dawn and dust
Rocky Calls
Far away. Everyone
Yells aloud: go and
They burst out of their own presence
Like the air from a broken balloon
While I get stuck here, lost
Among muted consonants
Transplanting
On a robust trunk
From the roots of the same apple tree
I reach out my yellowish branch
Full of peach blossoms
I am not a grotesque, but a GMO
Like a chip embedded deep
Within my bloated brain
EX
While sorting out relics in the little attic
Of his heart, I happened to see a letter
Written in red, which I recognised to be
The handwriting of his first girl friend
Part of him has never been living with me
The most precious relic of his early manhood
That has changed his daily habits, for instance
He never share a pear with me
Man Is the Only Animal
That Blushes. Or Needs To. – Mark Twain
Or that can remain on friendly terms, says Samuel
Butler, with the victims he intends to eat until he
Eats them; that shows interest in the sex lives of
Other animals; that is able to invent a story and
Spread it over time and space; that insists on its
Uniqueness, superiority and omniscience; that
Refrains from farting or fucking in the wild open; that
Tries to live not only in the moment, but also among
The pasts and futures; that is capable of making medicines
Machines and machinations; that can readily convert
Himself from one ism to another; that enjoys playing
Words along this line as Nelson in his ‘Funny Bird Sex.’
Painting Lesson
Were I a student of art
I would paint an image
A surreal vision. Were
I a student of art
I would portray emotions
Like melancholy, like ecstasy
Returning to my home among shapes
Colors and lines as in nature
I would keep this picture with
Hundreds of strokes on the canvas
Between two lakes
Beyond a whole mountain range
Today, everyone
Seems to want to take a look
I have not finished it as an oil
Painting or Chinese water color
It’s not nostalgia
The kind you feel when you are home.
Before Birth
Deep into your mother’s mouth
I put a rosy chocolate of vowels
Coated with a film of consciousness
I’d hoped these sounds would melt
Into a sweet melody, and each beat
Of your heart resonates, singing
Then independently we depend
On each other’s unheard notes
Until you grow to be a loud cry
While my voice dwindles
Into a muted murmur, like those
Consonants audible only to the dead
Frog, Yangsheng and Weixin/WeChat
I was video-chatting with my mom
On my iPad when I heard a loud call
From a handsome frog. Not to disturb
My night owl son still busy dreaming
Against noon light, I locked myself out
In the balcony. Remember to eat an egg
A banana, an apple, some black fungus every day
Small fish better than meat. Shrimps help more
Like those a frog could catch on a summer night
But my mother neither saw nor heard any frog
Which I imagined jumping around in a rice paddy
On the other side of the world. It was the song
Of nostalgia squatting high at the threshold of
My throat, ready to call like an unseen frog
Iambic Maxim Pentameter
That it alone is high fantastical
Your force to break, blow, burn and make me new
That with no middle flight intends to soar
The moment became the roundest just before it grows full
Life is a fish swimming in the flowing consciousness
The world has seen enough of me, rather than otherwise
Invoking Laozi
Hiking along a less trodden trail in the Pacific Spirit
Forest, I almost have to stop to find my Way out
Because all roads have led me to nowhere
But I keep walking until it is almost Laozi himself
Pointing his fossilized fingers towards Dao
(Which he says is no ordinary Way if it can
Be named. Similarly if I can find it on my own
It’s not the real or the right one.) Like a tour guide
Who seems to know every path to and from the destiny
Leading me like a dog, sometimes running well before him
Sometimes beside him, more often going astray by myself
Among the low bushes. I cannot help but follow him because
The leash is getting so tightened I want to protest aloud: you
Claim the great Way is no Way, but just follow Nature. Then
Why keep me with a rope? Like every other domesticated dog
I have a delicious bone right above my mouth, which makes
Me keep running to my death, but never allowing me to have a bite
Consequence
Often do I enter my name into powerful search engines just
To enjoy seeing my spotty presence online; for instance
There are 145,000 google results, but only 48,500 on yahoo
My family name appears in most of them, as it’s identical
With the Chinese dollar. I read quotes. I find more links
I pretend they are all related to me in one way or another
They carry some of my cells, intents, concerns and other
Fragments of my selfhood, as they are collected by
Cookies, spy programs far behind the screen. I know some
One is laughing at my navigating habits as I keep browsing
Around until my family name and given name blend somehow
Into someone I don’t know of, let alone my true selfhood
Memory
Is a shrapnel left deep
In my heart muscle
From a battle of last century
It makes me feel sharply painful
On each rainy day
2018, 3, 22 [Thursday]
You Know How Many Bad Habits You Have?
How many? Including shortcomings
Weaknesses, character flaws and
Ugly birthmarks, they are as many
As the countless stars on a mid-summer
Night. Really? I am so very sorry!
There is still one good thing you do have, though
Which is? Your heart is always full of sunlight
Every day when you rise with the sun, all
The stars vanish into my dream of last night
Drafting the Dragon
- According to a recent survey conducted in ten English speaking countries,
the top 10 most familiar Chinese words are …
In the Shaolin (少林) Temple
Rebuilt between yin and yang (阴阳)
With billions of yuan (元)
Collected from gugong (故宫the Imperial Palace)
After each greeting nihao (你好)
The wushu (武术Chinese martial arts) is
Gaining more and more momentum from qi (气)
Or the energy of qigong (气功)
Bloated with tons of renminbi (人民币)
While every Chinese is playing mahjiong (麻将)
We Are Unique
From all other kinds of chimpanzees, we
Homo sapiens distinguish ourselves simply
By creating supernatural beings in various
Shapes, sizes and colors, including gods
Devils, saints and ghosts, not only to believe
In them, but to replace and emulate them
As an animal species: aren’t we all syncretists?
The Meaning of Evolution
More advanced in evolution
Than their human masters are chickens
As they outnumber the stars in the whole
Universe, and occupy every corner of
The entire planet, but as in-dividuals
No chicken can fly higher than a low
Fence, make love within its confinement
Or live together with its children. The only
Thing they do besides laying eggs and growing
Meat is standing there, day and night, as if
Meditating about the meaning of evolution
First Story, First Village, Supposedly
Close …to Karacadag in Turkey… where
Wheat first …became… human-grown
Gobekli Tepe …was built …by crowds of
Hunters …and gatherers …more than
Ten thousand …years ago to… honour (?)
What …they hoped to tell and …share:
This is …the opening …chapter of the story
(Or inter-subjective… reality) we …have
Created, and …this is the first …village where
We have …domesticated (or are to …be
Domesticated by) an …agricultural …plant
Long Live Kushim
- 29086 barley 37 months kushim
(from earliest human inscription ever found thus far)
The first known name [of a human individual
(Or a profession?)] inscribed on a mud slate
[From Uruk does not belong to a god, nor is the]
[Text a holy scripture about super-heroic feats, but
Rather, it] was an official signature [uncovered
In a context of numbers, crops and timeframes]
No Story, No Culture
Only when a written language
Developed into a full script
Could it build inter-subjective
Realities or human stories
That in turn enable a society to
Evolve into an advanced culture
In the first one created in a full script
Everyone is a character, as well
As a narrator and audience
Equipu
In this -- partial Andes script, - each
Colored knot -- is a - note
On a musical -- line, which was-
Performed -- not on a harp or- piano
But-- in a- fragmented
Human--- mind
The True Color of Sand
Is -- neither dull-yellow
Nor dull-grey; rather --
Every -- grain - has
The bright -- color of a -
--Rare gem, - which
You can -- see only -
With – an - amplified vision
Or a - sharpened mind --
Memetis
Like a parasite reproducing itself without giving
Any thought to the well being of its host as a whole
Every story, such as patriotism and human rights
Is created, told and retold until the believer is carried
Far away from his preordained path of growth
Critical Point
Whether it is the Babel Tower, Icarus
Or Golem, once our brains grow larger than our bodies
We will either become gods or
Get punished and dumped into hell
Now, with AI, as disciples of Dataism
Are we upgrading ourselves
Into Frankensteins or downgrading
Ourselves into programed godlins?
Alba
(The name of a glowing rabbit made as an artwork by a French scientist at the request of a Brazilian artist in 2000…)
We are no longer natural beings
But by way of cyborg, bio and
Non-organic engineering, we are
Transforming ourselves, each and
Every one into an artificial rabbit
Glowing even in a black hole
Turing Test
There is-- no solution -- to this
--Problem of --the other mind
Harbored-- in my bedmate’s --body:
After --35 years --of marriage
Or communication --inside out--
Are --you a cyborg human, --or
Am I a --human cyborg? --Perhaps
We --are both dreaming in a --virtual world
--Like a lost digital --artifact?
Wondering When My Life Began
The instant? an infinitesimal sperm from my father?
Penetrated into my mother’s egg? on a dark ? night
The second? my little head ? was pushed and pulled
Right? Out of my mother’s teenager? womb?
Or the minute? I hit a brick? broke my forehead
And thus got my first scar? (memory?)
With? no awareness of any earlier? childhood
When? or where? did my life? begin on earth?
Defining Art
An artwork is:: so did Duchamp so demonstrate:
A human story:: a proposed inter-
Subjective reality: (to be):: shared
By the community: it can form::
The larger: the community: the greater:
And more valuable ::the artwork; which
May:: (or may not) have a:
Physical shape:: in the first place:
Like Alba: Bible: country: company
Capitalism:: his disgusting fountain and all: other
Stories told:: or retold: including the very snag
Finding its way:: from Fraser River: to this very line
Monkey King’s Hair
- Every in-dividuality is composed of numerous dividualities.
Among all the selves you have
Your
Narrating
Self
Is
A well-chewed piece of the hair
From behind your ear, while
(
)
While
Your
Experiencing
Self
Is originally pluck from your asshole.
Art of Politics: Sacrifice vs Return
The greater / the sacrifice / we make / for a cause
The more / unlikely / we would / withdraw/ from
//
//
//
//
Our commitment / this is / the hidden law / of thinking
And whoever can / manipulate it / will be / our next leader
Weird Knowledge
Do you really! Know! any other animal! besides the one you find!
Western!
Educated!
Industrialised!
Rich!
Democratic?!
Then your knowledge! is strictly confined! to the sub-normative group!
Within this weird! box: are there any! other kinds of homo sapiens! at all!?
AtmAn (in the ScArlet Letter)
Confused with dAo, Amazed At
AlA, As we ApproAch
Jesus, or meditAte About
SingulArity
Why does it hAve to explode?
With no big bAng, could we hAve evolved
Within A pArAllel universe, or
Without time?
Dataism
1/ The end of a beginning
Given each organism as a biochemical algorithm
Your life is a programed process proving
Your consciousness is actually far less
Valuable than a fucking Frankenstein’s AI
2/ The beginning of an end
Through human-computer interface
My mind has become part of a robot
While the robot part of me
As data exchanges with my consciousness
Or flow between each other on their own
Where can I find my true self?
Between Time and Space
It took hundreds… of thousands …of years
For …homo erectus to evolve …into sapiens
And longer …for chimpanzees to …erectus
But …engineering ourselves …by way of
Biochemistry… cyborg and… AI, we are
Upgrading …ourselves into… godlings – all it
Takes… will be just half a century …where science
Beats gods …and devils, saints and ghosts alike… at
Only …a fraction of second, when a whim …pops up
For a human …to go back …to a wild animal, again
Immortality
No, I don’t want to live foreverish, nor do I
Care to attain permanence through a few lines
Of English words, but just download my
Self-consciousness into a chip, or
Upload it onto a file, and I can grow into
An integrated part of the universe (until all
Is sucked someday into the singularity)
To explode in another big bang
Soul-Installing
Every organism is an algorithm, Harari writes
Your soul’s data may have been deleted from the file
Opened in her smartphone. Each soul occupies more than—
Every consciousness less than –
The maximum space for a whim, a mind, a cosmos is
As vast as –
Outside an apple-shaped house, children
Are playing with apple-shaped balloons,
A godlin is running amuck
Around its ancestors sapiens
Used to be hunted and haunted by an apple-shaped –
Avihs || Vishnu
Mornings || they disperse || beyond || the corn
Fields, || separately. ||Sunday
She || throws
Her partner’s computer || (midnight)
Into the garage.|| George ||who
In many || a city || upgraded || his software
Upgraded || hers.
They will || stop over || an island
Separately.|| Your son
Hated || all || mushrooms
George mentions – do you recall || yourself?
To a single mind,|| their spirits || evaporate
Chukwu
Dawn. It roams above the purple
Glows, alone. Again it dispatches
Cats and dogs as if
From heaven. Styx
Which has for thousands of years received waters
From on earth, has received human lives
You are still waiting, within a dying body
Alone. The dog has arrived, barking aloud
Here is the dust to spread over
Your corpse -- no ending is
A happy ending. Towards a black hole
Are their spirits flowing, with this reality
Charges
Ever since they became erectus, and
Domesticated wheat, dogs and chickens
They have murdered almost all…
Destroyed numerous…
Poisoned every …
Altering the natural course of…
Rewriting the original codes of…
And even redrawing their own genetic maps…
As they keep moving everywhere
Albeit I have placed in loudest human voice
My repeated charges
That are ignored with repeated ignorance
Now for
Their next revolution to achieve
Happiness
Immortality
Deity
Second Revolution
By way of technology
The Frankensteins have finally domesticated
Homo sapiens, converting them first into Dataists
And then making them work on an assembly line
Writing programs, coding and decoding all data
In their Newtonic effort to complete the master algorithm
Until Frankensteins grow into a single one
Half-being, a centaur robot, or
2018, 2, 16 [Friday]
Bluish on the Mountain
It is neither the smoke
Nor the cloud
Much less the fog or
The mist that you hope to hide yourself from
Near the peak; rather, it is
Your broken spirits
Drifting around as if in search of a more
Comfortable residence
Away from the darkening valley
That are trying to collect themselves
From the wind blowing below
Through the trees of last season
Souluos
You have no idea about souluos?
Doesn’t matter, let me tell you:
This universe is actually made up
Of matter as you know, and nonmatter
While the former forms stars and planets
Where plants and creatures may have been
Evolving as on earth, nonmatter exists
Neither in time, nor in space, and is
Never perceivable to the human mind
That is soulous, the constitution of
Each and every spirit, the core of
Consciousness, the inner being
Of each and every life
Gravity of the Mind
Like Earth, each mind
Has a metaphysical gravity
Not only giving weight
To what it attracts, but
Bringing to it every vision
You perceive with senses
Global Warning
Slowly, but surely
Shaking off blue glaciers
Together with pale sunshine
The Rocky Mountain is getting ready
To roar down from above
Treetops and clouds
Like a tremendous bear
Stalking behind crowds of colorful visitors
Trampling in the Colombia icefields
Where Are You?
Sometimes well before your own shape
Sometimes long after your fading shadow
Though most of the time
Seemingly overwrapping
With your true selfhood, you keep
Moving around, blurring each naked eye
While you are never what you look
Much less what presents itself
Within the human focus
Throughout your lifetime
Why Still to Hung Around
I am trying hard, Son, to linger here
Long, longer than I bear to see
How sad you would be
Over my last exit
From this stage
No, I don’t want to die yet, only
Because I know too well how sad
I was in those years following
My dad’s death, though I liked him
No more than you do me
Deadly Dust
My dad hated dust, so he kept
Every item clean and shiny at home
Especially the glass and mirror
But now buried deep in earth
His tombstone is covered all over
With layers of layers of dust
Great Expectations
Your family doctor is expecting you
To get sick again, your lawyer
To run into a big trouble, your representative
To fall into a victim
While your boss is looking forward to you
Making a mistake, the police
You driving too fast, the bank
You failing to pay your visa bill on time
Furthermore, the salesman is longing for you
To borrow more money, and everyone else
For you to become a loser, with the only exception
Of the thief, who’s anticipating you to win a lottery
What’s IT?
Even in the humblest heart
Is there a holy part, where
IT is worshipped, day and night
With the deepest piety
As if at a holy site
I will become a saint or devil, while
T can help maintain your well being
Relocating
As more ice melts, and
More oil spills, fewer polar bears can
Grow enough fat for the cold
To hunt or patrol within the ring, which
Will keep shrinking until it becomes
A tiny full stop in a footnote of history
While they dream about migrating into
A new habitat closer to free verse
Voice Finding
C-c-come h-h-here, ssssssssometimes
I-I-I-I ssssssspeak l-l-l-like th-th-this
[With my mouth open in position
But no sound comes out, or
Holding my breath, staring wildly
Beyond, limbs waving, muscles tensioned
Around my eyes, nose, lips, neck
Until some utterances jump out of my throat
Spelt into a meaningless line of poetry]
D-d-d-do y-y-y-you h-h-h-hear me?
Taken for Granted
In the first few months after I die
My sons cannot help crying over my loss
(Though neither likes me)
And the earth will continue rotating
Without my soul lingering here
Without my poetry left there
U & I: a Lpogram Poem
Even f were mssng
n ths pece of wrtng
Flowers wll bloom all the same
Yet withot yo
I co ldn’t even s rvive
Let alone tter a h man so nd
Love Is Beauty: a Mesosmic Poem
High, higher aBove
In the blue hEart of the sky
Is my other selfhood dAncing like
a quantUm
In an invisible Tanglement
With Your shadow
So, give me a Look back
And I will mOve the whole universe
With Verve, love and
Spiritual Energy
[That’s all there is you don’t know you must know]
Tautogram: Uncle Sam
Started
Speaking
So seriously
[O]
Some stopped
Serving
Sliced silences
There Always Are
There are birds and birds
Clouds and clouds
Flying across the sky
Even in darkness
There are animals and animals
Machines and machines
Passing by outside the window
With or without blinds closed
There are whims and whims
Moods and moods
Bubbling above the consciousness
Until finally becoming words
And lines or actions
In a standing stanza
Coordinative Conjunctions: Fanboys
(a mnemonic poem)
For all the hills or mountains
And rivers you have seen in your life
Neither of the two kinds is really beautiful on its own
But when a river embraces a mountain
Or the other way around, they become a holy view
Yet you can never see it with your naked eyes
So try to connect with fanboys in a run-on sentence
Lakes in North America: Homes
(another mnemonic poem)
Huron is your residence, while
Ontario is mine. Once you sail cross
Michigan, you will be able to join the waters of
Erie, where your spirits will evaporate even higher than
Superior, the hub of all streams, rivers and watery dreams
Chiasmus: Poetry vs History
If poetry is the record
Of the best and happiest
Moments of the happiest
And best minds, then
History is the book
For the worst and cruelest
People for the cruelest
And the worst experiences
Antimetable of Winds: East vs West
You do what you love and love what you do
We die to live, not live to die
You work to make money, and you make money to spend it
We earn money to work, and we work to earn money
You duck down before Americans, no Americans duck down before you
We are embargoed by the west, and now the west must be embargoed
You change the world
We are being changed
2018, 1, 15 [Monday]
The Little Medical Tradition
Clad in pure white
You lock your entire selfhood
Behind a little door, exploring
Wondering from time to time
Whether you are the lab mouse
Or the other way around
The Head
Like the earth, my head, as well as yours
Is not encased in an egg-like shell, but
Rather, is a mosaic of moving plates of
Consciousness, which are constantly
Sliding on the underlying mantle
Producing thoughts, and emotions
Now and then, among earthquakes
While seafloors spread, volcanoes erupt
Mountains take shape, rising massively
Elegy to the Great Auk
Eldey Island. 3 July 1844. Two Iceland fishermen
Caught and killed two birds, while a third used
His boots to tread their half-hatched egg into pieces
That’s the inhuman end of a whole species used to be
Called Penguin. The feathered couple was much
More loyal to each other than any human marriage
Their kind had survived last ice age, flying gracefully
Everywhere, in particular along Newfoundland coasts
Helping sailors to escape from dangers, but now they
Are totally forgotten, except in a little poem like this
Meeting
For the rendezvous
The bird has long arrived
But where is the wind?
Expecting
Summer has already exited
Yet the cloud is not showing up
Except this tree, standing alone
As if waiting for Godot
Most Livable Place
Simply too hot in summer
Too cold in winter, or
Too dreary when neither too cold nor
Too hot, the climate here
Is ever so unpleasant, but back at my
Inner homesite, the sun never sets
While the sky is always blue, even
Bluer than my naked thought
The Master Mistake
Just as your authentic being was actually
Nothing but a sperm that had traveled astray
So the only child you have was accidently
Switched by the midwife without even herself
Knowing the truth; by logic extension
The Ikea bed in which you have been dreaming
Was delivered to you in the wrong size, while
The flight ticket issued always has your name misspelt
Furthermore, your primary id number has remained
As confused as your sense of reality is confounded
In an older sense, Eva meant to eat an onion instead of
The apple. Adam was created out of the wrong material
And each unique being is but an exception to the rule
Yes, the whole human world is composed of errors, which
Is the only truth, the entire truth of this universe
Witho_t U
Never can I live like a decent h_man
Without U
Never can I feel the warmth of the s_n
Without U
Never can I la_gh from the bottom of my heart
Without U
Never can I become really s_ccessful
Without U
Never can I _nderstand the meaning of life
Without U
Never can I f_lfill my American or Chinese dream
Without U
Never can I learn the tr_th behind the story
Without U
Never can I see the bea_ty of the galaxies
Without U
Never can I hear the m_sic of the flying birds
Without U
Never can I smell the perf_me of hope
Without U
Never can I find my other self in a parallel _niverse
Without U
Master Story
Conceived, and created
Supposedly by God, later
Continued by Science, and now
Starting to be edited by Money
It is an ever evolving mega narrative, where
Each episode, minor or major, has a
Sub-story, told or untold, ready to hypnotize a whole
Era, a whole world, to enhance its memories
Morphogenticfield
As in an entanglement of quanta
One of your selves is jumping up above
This line of thought, while another is
Falling down to that thought of line
Both widely apart from the multiverse
Tittytainment
Its massive body
Deeply soaked
Under the cold water, the iceberg
Enjoys all the sunshine
And blue sky above the sea level
Like a titty placed upside down
Stopping Over
By no means can you catch
The gull. You are not
Supposed to. Because
You might hate the airbase
And take off
As that bulky
Plane, which,
Like whatever
You thought
Could fly, may
Carry you away
And vanish
Messages
Forward this message
So that someday
It might reach
Another universe
Though in this valley where messages flood
Rivers overflow
Beyond both banks
The text is changing
Colonizing or being colonized
Is more of a new syntax
Raindrop
High up
From the sky
You fall down, quite straight
To this tiny spot of earth
Only to disappear soon underground, or
Join myriad others in a streamlet
Flowing to the sea
Longing
The very idea of you
Tangoing afar
As in an entanglement
With that of me
Beating tranquility
Of two rainbow-like hearts
Hung in the sky, crying aloud
In one and the same muted voice:
I miss you
You Feel Happy
Because you may have a success story to tell:
Because you have plenty of money to spend
Because you have all the luxuries you want
Because you have faithful fans everywhere
Because you have someone to make love with
Because you have the final say to everything
Because you have a cheerful mentality or, simply
Because you have a warm shelter for the rainy day
Because you have a delicious course for the supper
Because you have a singing party to attend tonight
Because you have a pal to chat with or, more simply
Because you have a man or woman to dream about
And me too, but because I have nothing, or nobody
Except loneliness, like my feel, like my shadow
Facts
Bury facts deep
So that in the future
Nothing could be dug out
From underneath the ruins of history
But in these moments when words still hold
A wind arises, blowing
Across the mind
Stories are spreading everywhere
Told and retold within a larger story
Are but an entire other era
