2024, 11, 16 [Saturday]
Sent from Vancouver Airport
Landing now
But my heart still beating
Against the cloud, while
My dream lingers on high
Above the Pacific Ocean
Where’s My Home
In Vancouver, I have my
Home in the right place
But with the wrong person
At the hotel, I have you
As the right home to me
But in the wrong place
In Jingzhou, I have my mother
As my right home in the
Right place, but I feel wrong
Ultimate Pursuit
If you need spiritual sustenance at
All, you can find it neither from a physical
Object, nor from any fellow human
Nor from nature or
artwork
(Not even from Gold or God himself)
But
from your own innermost being
Home vs Hotel
We are
all looking for a home to
Our inner selves, but can find no
Such place anywhere, except in a
Hotel, where your wandering soul
May dwell just for a moment with
The right person on the right spot
Attachment Detached: for ll
I thought you were the home
To my little bird as to my
Large soul, but alas, I find
You are just my final hotel
Along my long way to Dao
Wandering
Walking through night crowds
I felt like a wounded wolf
Lost in a burned prairieland
Homeless, I kept wandering
More lonely than darkness
But no less serene than the stars
The Tree I’ve Been Drawing
Is just so full of life
Neither the bird nor the wind
I am going to add to the land-
Scape can live up to its vitality
Nostalgia
Time, pause just for a second
So I can catch your shadow
With the camera in my soul
Before you vanish into space
Night Vision
As the tide surges forward
From
the heart of night
A tiny white flower blooms
Against all the dark noises
Rising high along the coast
New Start
As the first small flower
Blooms with the whole
Season of spring, let’s
Forget & forgive all the
Harshness of last winter
Personal Irony
Even if
tone-deaf
Never able to become a
Singer as you wish, you
Can tune your life per se
Into a full-toned melody
My Assets
I don’t own the sun, but I
Have plenty of sun light
I don’t own the sky, but
I enjoy all the free air
I don’t own the morning
But I cherish a lot of hope
I don’t own the language, but
I am entitled to every word
I don’t own autumn, but
I can get a good harvest
2024, 9, 13 [Friday]
Synoptic Cultural Comparisons (3): Self-Imaging
1/ Oriental practice
After he was, once again beaten black & blue
By a street guy, the poor Ah-Q managed to
Stand up as if he’d become someone else
Instead of feeling injured or insulted, he
Announced his victory because in his mind
It was but a son who’d humiliated his father
2/Occidental principle
When the powerful Sam felt insulted or even
Threatened, he would readily bring a knife to
A fist fight. For him, his honor as well as his
Dignity will remain impeccable like a newly
Recognized cavalier insofar as he wins the
Duel or kills his rival, no matter who is right
Tunneling as a Fact of Life
- We
all take light for granted
Until we enter into a
tunnel
- We
are thrown into darkness
Before we become aware
of it
- The
darker inside the tunnel
The brighter the outer
world
- It
takes no time to fall into the dark
But long for anyone to see
the light
- Better
to turn on the light inside the train
Than to complain about all
the darkness
- Every
minute passed in darkness
Is a big step closer
towards light
Money Matter
Money is really so hard to make
It comes only bit by bit like one
Suffering constipation, no matter
How much effort one makes, but
When you spend it, you cannot
Hold it even for a second as if
You
are hard hit by diarrhea
Eudaemonology
Well planted in the heart of
Every soul is the seed of
Happiness, which will bloom
Perpetually if, only if you let
The sun shine on it and re-
Member to water it with
Love or positive thought
Experiment Continued
When I
was five, I planted my favorite
Marble in my backyard, hoping it would
Grow into a magic tree bearing all kinds
Of toys.
Six
decades later
I filled my crystal flask with the brightest
Sunlight from the mid-summer, not that
I intended to brew it into wine and keep
My heart warm for the upcoming winter
But I long to have a different taste of life
Cage & Nest: for ll
Just as your vagina is your heart
Relocated, my penis is my soul
Externalized. To be more exact
Your womanhood is as much
An open cage as a hidden nest
For my entire manhood, where-
As I keep flying like a demo-
Selle crane, I will always
Return to you like a pet bird
Whale & Boat
Along the ethereal horizon
A bluish whale swims against
Both sea and sky. No one knows
If it’s enjoying its free cruise or
Driven by hanger. As it looms
From time to time, it looks like
A boat that has lost its power
And direction, wandering around
In the wild, in the way a dying
Whale fallling into myriads of lives
Maple Leaf
Rising up from nowhere
A fallen maple leaf
Pressed hard against my
Face in the wind, as if
To paint my soul with its
Bloody color, covering my
Thought with its texture
Like a shroud. When I
Managed to take it off my
Mask, I found it was
A new prescription for
The upcoming winter
But alas, as I keep
Wandering around, I just
Cannot find the pharmacy
Two Birds from the Cemetery
Their relationship unknown
The two birds pecked deep
In the cemetery at foothill
Then they flapped their dark
Wings against the misty dusk
One with a forgotten name in
Its pointed mouth, the other
Having a lost soul at its
Tongue tip. When they fly
Over me, something dropped
On my head like shit, which
Is surely unsuitable for a nest
Another Black Xmas
Again, there’s no snow falling, so
All streets and back lanes remain
As dark as dirty as before, with
Broken glass, abandoned carts
Coffee cups, name cards, fliers
Plastics here and there. Each
Sight is full of sharp angles; not
A single flake on its way to help
Package our world & make it pure
Soft & peaceful, filling in every
Gap & hole with white justice, not
Even on this holy Christmas night
In the Valley
Towards the East Sea
The Long River runs
As silently as
The sun always setting
Towards the West Hill
Between the sea and the hill
I stand still like Kuafu
Holding my tongue
In case I should disturb
The quite flow of time
Reservation
The winter is so very small
I can hardly squeeze myself in
No matter how hard I tried
I still had to give up my shadow
Though I hid my soul there
Yearning for a spot in spring
The Self-Portrait of an Artist
I greened on
a spring twig
I danced to
the summer sun
I fell in
an autumn swirl
But when there’s a wind starting
To blow, I’ll rise against the winter
Though as an unnoticeable leaf
24, 8, 19 [Monday]
Time Flows
Standing by a river, seeing
How the water moved along
Heraclitus said, No man ever
Steps in the same river twice
While Confucius exclaimed
Time passes by just like this
Flowing away day and night
Though both sages were
Keenly aware of the constant
Change in the river, neither
Spotted the unseen islet in it
Where any one may live still in
The moment as if on Sommaroy
Let alone foresaw this modern fact:
While
our world is so full of
Sundials, hourglasses, clocks
&
watches, not a single second
Can
be found from amongst them
Circle the Square: for ll
My thought of you draws a big circle
Tonight. As I try to put it into
The square of dream, it breaks into
Endless points of attachment
Embracing my inner being within
A spacious shape, where there is
More day to dawn. [&]
The sun is but
Another [Thoreauvian]
morning star
Love in Mathematics: for ll
Though we’re always seeking out summation
We can never hope to find a solution (outside
Marriage). If, & only if we live a double
Life this way, we’d be two parallel lines
That may come indefinitely close to each other
But never meet within the same coordinate
High Romance in Pythagorean Identity: for ll
For any angle of (se)x, the sum
Of the squares of the sin &
Those of the cos is equal to one
For ll: What Is It That
Makes you feel agitated at night
Or lost during the day
Without ever knowing exactly why
That keeps your heart split
With your body as with itself
Between obligation and inclination
That throws your innermost being
Into the depth of thought
Amidst routine functionalities
Or that compels you to live a double
Life: one in the open
The other under the ground
What on earth is it? But the sense of
Belonging newly gained, a longing
For a reunion in body as in spirit
Double Existence: for ll
You live
A life of separation
Between heart and body
A perfect wife for him
Over the past four decades
But my paramour from now
Each time you are
Penetrated, you enjoy it
Only as if with me
You hung around him day in
Day out, but always looking forward
To our annual elopement
On the opposites of this
World, we’re happy to live
A life doubly enriched
The Butterfly & the Flower
Last night, a butterfly
Kept flying around
& never came down
To the ground in
My dream, until I woke
To see there’s not
A single flower
Blooming towards it
In the whole valley
Feminine vs Masculine: a Cross-Cultural Poem
In Chinese, as in English, there’s no
distinction
Between the feminine and the masculine in
Nouns, except for 男/man &女/woman or their
Pronouns, so we describe a bridge as beautiful
As a woman or as strong as a man.
It’s
true
We conventionally treat Nature, a ship or
Our country as a mother-figure, yet there’s
No sexual differentiation in words or syntax
As we all try to seek the true-blue balance
Between yin & yang, beyond our speech acts
No True Masterpiece
Is ever writ
In words, not
Even in minds
But wind-carved
On a cliff, spelt
With blood drops
Painted with moon-
Light, or crested
At surging waves
Always in space
Though
Rarely in time
On the Serengeti
Every animal, including
Those in a human shape
May respect a lion highly
As the king of the land
But you prefer to be a buffalo
Herbal-hearted, or eating
Grass only, trying to avoid
Even a baby lioness
But once you are bullied
You would be ready
To horn up the whole pride
High into the bloody sky
Big vs Small
Much bigger than all earthly eyes
Combined can see, the cosmos
Occupies only a tiny corner in
A single human mind, where
Numerous galaxies can clearly be
Seen like broken dandelions beyond
Its fence (built with time & space)
Drink Water in Wilderness
As I approach the pond
More vigilantly
Than an antelope
On African savanna
My entire being is
Swallowed up inside out
By a crocodile in ambush
Before I was able to kiss
The water with my mouth
& soul, both dying of thirst
Balcony
How I wish to have one
Like a peninsular
Reaching out
From a confining homeland
Always ready for
An elopement towards
The open space, where
I can join the stars
Splashing down
To the deep blue sea
2024, 7, 16 [Tuesday]
Soulmate Identifying: for ll
Not that my nose is particularly sharp
But there is something
Blooming fully
From your innermost being
The scent is so fleshly fresh, so unique
I, actually only I, can smell it
Even when you hide your presence
In the depth of a human crowd
Lollipop: for ll
(Probably deprived of love
For too long?) My life needs
So much sugar
To dilute its bitterness
I’ve been haunted
By the dream of a big lollipop
I could readily suck
Like a homeless orphan
Until the other day
I refound you, &
Right away put you
In the mouth of my heart
H. E. A. for ll
Never can we live together
As man and woman, let alone get married
In broad daylight, but we can
Join each other in body as in spirit
From the opposite sides of this world
Honeymoon for a week or two every year
Besides, we can wear a couple uniform
Use each other’s cap, cup and key-
Chain, return to the same e.home
From different time zones, make love
In words, caress each other’s initials
Tattooed on our chests during separation
We can even transfuse each other’s blood (since
We both have type B running in our body as
Through our hearts). When we die, we can
have
Our ashes blended and buried together under
the biggest
Pine tree in Mayuhe, where I fell for you
half a century ago
Far vs Near: for ll
You are so far, far away
In Zhuhai, on the other side of this world
Yet you are so close, close enough
For me to feel you with each of my synapses
Looking Forward: for ll
Not to the ceasefire between the two
Groups (that perpetually regroup them-
Selves into ever smaller groups), but
To the joining together of two individuals
(Like you and me); not to the clearing up
Of the foul weather for the next hour, but
To the smile of my young neighbor’s baby;
not to
The self-effacement of cancer, covid or
Corruption, but to the control of fear
Hatred, oppression, injustice; not to
All the man-made wastes getting processed
By Nature in time, but to the smooth bowel
Movements in a private washroom; not
To getting married since we are
Already too old even for sex, but to a
Real-life, real-time intimate interaction
Between our bodies as between our souls
Scientific Imagination
As increasingly more people
Begin to talk about
The whole cosmos as a living
Creature, they fail to see
The biologic fact that every one
Of us is a holographic version
Of it and, given this, to know
Thyself is to not only to know
The universe, but to enjoy
The life of a cosmic being
No Interstellar Immigration
Anyone familiar with concepts
Such as dark energy, black holes
& the Great Attractor feels at loss
When they realize how deplorably
Infinitesimal & insignificant
We humans are. Naturally, everyone
Is fascinated by the indefinite
Vastness of the universe but me
Knowing myself as a holographic
Version of the cosmos (or the anti-
Cosmos), I found my species to be
The true & blue staple produce
Of Earth, the only liveable planet for
All humans, who may probably perish
Once transported to a foreign star
New Definition of Homo Sapiens
The only living species on this planet
That turn out wastes Nature can never
Process; that is capable of love besides
Fucking but reluctant to extend it beyond
Sex; that always wants more, &
More & more, though they claim
To be rational or reasonable; that enjoys
Fighting & killing one another
With rocks or rockets, though
They belong to the same family; that dreams
Of migrating to another celestial
Body once they ruin Earth completely
That keeps segregating them-
Selves into ever smaller groups or
Subgroups so the discrete group
Can accumulate maximum wealth
& puissance; that could readily smile
while
They must act rude & violent
Last Leaf
Still hanging up there alone
You’re the most popular
Reviewer of parading swirls
Smaller than a palm, you’re
Actually big enough to hold
The entire season
Withered like a weathered wish
You seal, for a new spring, every drop
Of freshness in the twig
Deep vs Shallow
My eyes are really deep
Deep enough to contain
The deepest space of the cosmos
My eyes are also shallow
So shallow they can never hold
Even a single teardrop
Appointment
S/He is neither my boss, nor my date
My doctor, my teacher, my therapist
Nor anyone I (need to) know (of)
In person or in spirit. S/He is not even
A human being, not to mention
Someone like Gal or Godot, but S/He’s
Never appeared in the right time or
At the right place as scheduled
(Indeed, S/He’s stood me up numerous
Times) while the receptionists keep
Rescheduling me for another time
Now, with my years & days numbered
I still don’t know who or what S/He is
And the clearest reply I’ve got from them
is:
Just stand by, since you’re not dying yet
I Write; Therefore, I Am
From my experiences, good or bad, I’ve been
gathering
Words after words, like bees collecting
Pollens from the flowers on both sides of
The mountain, putting them in order
Not to brew them into honey
To sweeten my own mouth or others’
But to preserve my life in
The syntax of immortality
The Cosmos vs My World
Just as our cosmos is, supposedly, where
Light can reach in space, so my world is
Where my voice can travel through time
2024, 6, 17 [Monday]
Towards Samadhi
You started as
A focus of feel
Then becoming
A line of heed
As it grows into a
Circle of whims
Breaking into bits
Of imagination
Until it’s fulfilled
With clairvoyance
Language Is Where We All Live
Deeply ingrained at
The heart of our inner-
Most being is a shared
Syntax that keeps gene-
Rating words to construct
The world for our body
As it gramatises our mind
Soul & Shadow
Shaded within my shadow
Are the shreds of my soul
That keep running around
My feel, like leashed dogs
When there is no more light
Illuminating my presence
Its ethereal being hides
Itself deep beneath my feet
Worth of Life: a Contemplative Poem
Everyone wishes, if not tries
To live a worthy life, but
What is its true worth? How
Is it to be measured? While
Most calculate it in terms of
Personal success, happiness
Or fulfillment, some are born
Gifted, privileged to see it
As the extent to which they
Have changed the world, im-
Proved the human life, but
To all commoners like you/me
Our life may be more or less
Worth living if we’ve thought
Said, or done something that
No other fellow humans ever
Have on this planet; otherwise
We have only lived like billions
Of zillions of other organic
Shit makers, living or dead
The Art of Life
Life is really so short
As it is becoming
Shorter every second
Yet it is also long &
Is growing longer than
Art for a whole age
Your Attraction: for ll
Before you loom above
The inner horizon, I can
Feel the warmth of your
Shine like the rising sun
Just as I can perceive
The rose’s scent before
I sniff at it in wildness
Like a wounded tiger
My Little Piece: for ll
Inspired by you
This love line is so
Wonderfully well-
Wrought no word
No sound, not even
My own heart beat
Can actually find
A proper place in
It to rime with my
Longing for you
Deep in the Wild Field: for ll
Of each human heart is sowed
A tiny seed, which will bloom
Or bear some fruit in due time
But this seed shall neither bloom
Nor bear fruit, because it is
Meant to grow into an Yggdrasil
Poetry Performance: for ll
While trying to sing the song
From the heart of my soul
I felt so short of breath I
Almost choked to death on
Words meant to say to you
Secret Sonnet: for ll
Take the best wrought line
From each of your favorite
Poems I have written (and
Published) for you, then
Reassemble them together (as
Isis did the fourteen pieces
Of Orisis’s body) into a new
Sonnet, I will come alive again
From between the words
Even making your pregnant
With our own little Horus
Photosynthesis: for ll
As my inner being keeps
Absorbing your shine
Ever so warm and tender
My entire selfhood will grow
Into a pomegranate, full of
Crystalized sunlight, ready
To fall from the tree in the
Most abundant season
Change
The world remains
Almost exactly the same
As yesterday, but Earth (to
Get/her with all landscapes)
Is already light-years away
From last night in the cosmos
Lonely as a Cloud
No matter how I
Attempt to get to
The centre of
The crowd, I
Feel as if flimsily
Photo-shopped in
An empty corner
Of a faded picture
2024, 5, 15 [Wednesday]
In Life as in Love We Must: for LL
Assist as we
Insist, persist or resist
To subsist
Exorcism: for LL
From every corner of my life
I have been trying desperately to drive
All your presences to an unknown space
Far beyond the reach of my synapses
So I can live peacefully in my residence
Reading books, listening to music, having
A tea party with my friends, browsing
Online, doing some mindful meditation
Or even writing something that has
Nothing to do with love, but alas, I just
Cannot concentrate on anything, or
Anybody else but the thought of you
O for a single moment free of your spell!
Alternative Sex: for LL
Old as I am, I often fail
Even to knock your door
Open, let alone occupy
Your hall of warmth &
Tenderness, but thank
God, your femininity is
Strong enough to have
Made me pregnant with
Twins: documentary
Romance & love poetry
Record Breaking: for ll
Since our reencounter after
42 years of separation
You’ve inspired me to turn
out more love poetry
& ‘fiction’ in a foreign language
than any Chinese
Author in history, yes even
in our mother tongue
Now I wonder what else I am
meant to compose
Besides a chamber music to
play in wildness, a
Drama to act out on an inner
stage, or an epitaph
To engrave as a relief on
our joint tombstone
Emotional Curiosity: for ll
Why am I so infatuated with you? This is the
Million dollar question which would keep my eyes
Still open even after I die should I ever fail to find
The answer for myself.
Perhaps, it is your Mono Lisa
Smile that blooms at me from your innermost being
Your affability that invites me as a kindred spirit
The unique natural scent radiated from your fair skin
That is perceivable to me alone; your voice carrying the
Local accent like my mom’s; your face and shape that
Have restored my lost libido, especially the way you
Wear your years so well that people often mistake
You for my daughter, though I am just a few months
Older than you (or, your high sexual quotient that only
I can tell exactly after our elopement honeymoon in
Zhuhai?)
But I
am never sure, nor do I even have any
Clue about what it is that makes me love most about
You. To know myself better, I will spend my last years
Trying to come up with a truthful finding. (Perhaps, it’s
All because I live an aesthetic rather than an ethical life?)
Storm Snapshot
Face so deeply wrinkled
By the seasonal winds of history
The sea is getting simply too old
To recall what fishes are still left
Swimming in its heart of darkness
Angling
Tasteless, shapeless
My bait is not so
Much for a fish
As for a nexus
Between water &
Land or, rather
Between my mind
& the whole world
The Beach Man
At another antlike moment
All our footprints may be
Washed away, but the sand
Will persist long after the tide
Retreats to the heart of the ocean
Four Narrative Conflicts
1/ man vs god
He created us out of dust to let us
All prostrate before Him, while
We made every kind of god from
The same just to worship him
2/ man vs nature
She gives birth to each & every one of
Us, but we grew up only to destroy Her
3/ man vs man
As if genetically coded with enmity
We must always fight against one
Another with words or swords
Otherwise, we’d all die of hunger
4/ man vs himself
We are what we are
Yet refuse to be such
The Noblest Tradition
For hundreds of times
I’ve imagined myself
Becoming an African
Elephant
Ready to
Leave its herd for an
Obscure jungle, where
It could die in extreme
Privacy when it is
Too old or too weak
To travel
along
Trees vs Weeds
For all my meticulous care
And high expectations
The trees in the big front
Yard of my house have
Long perished, whereas
The weeds in the small
Backyard of my heart have
Grown rampant everywhere
FTW: the Super Competition b/w China &
America
Can boil down to a
single word:
[In terms of etymology,] ‘win’ results
Simply from labor, struggle, or war
[As long as we are all in?], whereas
‘赢’
Involves the complication of all the
Five elements: the fear of亡 [death]
The act of口 [speech], the sense of 月
[Time], the use of 贝 [money] as well as
The attitude of a凡 [ordinary] mind
Chinese Learning: Lesson 12
Square-shaped, stroke-structured
Every Chinese character presents an
Abstract painting rich in symbolic
Meanings; for example, ‘自由’
[Freedom] is an enclosed framework
Where there’s always a unique stroke
Trying to break out of the cell
Whereas ‘牢笼’ [prison house] is
Open-ended in every direction, but
Even if you are as strong as a bull
Or a dragon, you can never hope to
Escape from under a simple radical
The Flower vs the Tree
The flower I relocated from
The island has long withered
But the tree I transplanted
From the heart of my soul
Has grown to be an Yggdrasil
Mirror, Night, Dream
1/ Mirror
As it sucks in all temporary units
Like a white hole, my life be-
Comes an illumination of darkness
2/ Night
So long as I keep facing towards
The sky like a sunflower, all my fears
Will vanish from my dream of light
3/ Dream
Sends me to a parallel universe
through a limelight, where I can live
A double life between wake and sleep
2024. 3. 10 [Sunday]
Here’s My True ID
Like you, (like everyone else)
I am an onion, from a cultivated
Fields adjacent to a long river
Light yellow, (dark or whitish)
With layers of layers of layers
Of masks, thick or thin, covering
An inner face.
When
they are all
Peeled off from me, there is no
Heart at the core, except another
Mask that looks like a human heart
Family within Family: for ll
Within
your extended family is
Your nuclear one, neither of them
Has to do with me, and vice versa
But between your husband and my
Wife is our deep family, registered
Within our innermost space, where
We sleep in different beds across
The Pacific, but cherish the same
wish as we make out in our e.home
Bird & Wind
As the wind blows past
I spot a bird flying by
Which may not be as huge
As Zhuang Zi’s Peng
But no less powerful
Like my mind, like my soul
The bird is invisible to the naked
Eyes, though it takes the shape
Of a winged creature and
Shoots high against the sky
Bird vs Wind
The bird strives to catch
The wind, but it is so strong
It traps the bird instead
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious: for ll
Your inner being is so full of sunlight
Every flower that catches sight of you
Begins to bloom against the season
Just as each face that turns towards you
Bursts into a smile when you pass by
Lingua Franco: for ll
With
words gushing out of
My innermost being, by following
The syntax of the superpower’s language
I have built an ethereal monument of
Immortality, a universal museum of
The human heart, where the most
Treasured mainstay is my thought of you
The Counting of My Remaining Days: for ll
Even if from January to December
I have only twelve days to live, even
If from Monday to Sunday I have
Only seven days to function, or even
If from Spring to Winter I have only
Four days to breathe, my heart will
Keep pumping blood to every vessel
To nourish every cell at my synapses
So I can feel you for the last three
Days: yesterday, today, and tomorrow
Visionary
Don’t’ just keep your vision in your eyes
For it may one day fall as teardrops
But hold it tight in your hand so it can
Act as part of your pulse movement
The Poet & the Reader
Just keep sending out your
Inner light, and it will reach
A human soul even when it is
Thousands of light years after
You die. Then they will stop
Complaining about darkness
As you illuminate their hearts
In the depth of a black hole
Lewd Did I live: Palindrome
Able was I ere I saw Elba
It’s
better to eat than be eaten
Don’t nod
I did, did I?:
Step on no pets:
Eva, can I see bees in a cave?:
Was it a cat I saw?:
Transcending
As I try to relate to the traditional Chinese
Painting hung above my desk, I find
Neither perspective (allowing me to see
The depth of the scene), nor chiaroscuro
(That can give me a sense of multi-
Dimensions via light vs shadow), except
Lines drawn with a wolf-haired brush pen
& ink made of pine charcoal, between Yin
& Yang, between Sky and Earth, lines Thick
& Thin, between the faded lines of history
Starting from a whim leading to eternality
I wonder if this is how our mind works, the
Tendency to swing between two extremes
Between Black & White, between the Painting
& Blank, both originating from the same Way
Midsummer Night
With my third eye, I often see
The stars glistening like pearls
Deeply lost in the sea of skies
Black vs White
White is pure, black is tender
To get an enriched color
Neither allows for a stainer
East
vs West: a Synoptic Cultural Comparison (2)
1/Philosophy/Ancients
Greek philosophers focused on the relationship
Between man & nature as they walked & debated
While Chinese thinkers were concerned mainly
About how a human being got along with another
2/Language/Inflections
English pays much heed to the formal features of
Verbs/actions, besides its
distinction between sex
Cases & numbers of pronouns, while Chinese has
Always remained fixed within its square shape
3/Painting/Traditions
Western painting depends on a single perspective
As much as chiaroscuro to achieve verisimilitude
While Chinese painting is an artistic expression of
Impressions that never have to imitate the reality
Footnote
Westerners keep sharpening their tools to attain
Happiness (through science,
or by using power)
While Chinese try to stay with it like a Daoist
The Present Interior
For now let’s forget all troubles & miseries
In this world of red dust, forsake our family &
Friends alike, forgive each & every other’s
debts
& wrongdoings as well as our own sins; for
now
Let’s not get stuck to our pasts or try
squeezing
Into our futures, foreseeable or otherwise
Where we may easily become too lost in
Character as in imagination; for now, just
Let it be, including everything & everybody
While the little cloud above the horizon drifts
Along, & the tiny fish keeps bubbling on &
off
In the creek; for now let’s stop & separate
Our selfhoods from our minds, observe how
They are making whims & wishes, & watch
How they become conditioned by concepts &
Constructs; for now let’s stay put as the hand-
Written book of history is being torn off
Page by page, until we find our innermost
Being in the heart of our soul at a crowded
Corner; & let’s take off our masks,
identities
Even consciousnesses as if we were peeling off
An onion, though we may find nothing for now
Highest Freedom: A Flash Personal Essay
The highest form of human freedom is the
freedom
Of selfhood, which I am trying to gain by
removing
Every memory of the feel from my heart &
intestines
By treating my brain, my head or my mind as only
Part rather than the whole of my selfhood, an organ
Producing consciousness for me instead of a
mechanism
To control my innermost being. It is this
freedom that allows
Me to find how I’ve been constructing a Self-Building
On the foundation of sensory synapses, floor by
floor, like
The Babel Tower only to collapse before reaching
the Sky
2024, 1, 9 [Tuesday]
Sound of Fury
In this vast
Valley full
Of red dust
Each sound
Is an echo
Of a protest
Or warning
Highest Romance: for LL
Rather than a
Long line
Of poetry
Scribbled
Between
Two killing
Breasts of
A woman
Totally naked
This is my
Deep love
Embossed
On your heart
The Most Romantic: for LL
All people in love
Yearn for a high
Romance, but few
Know the most
Romantic thing
For a lover to do
Is to give a gift
That no other
Human being
In the whole world
Can really afford
Again, Twilight Love: for LL
My wandering innerself
Finally joins you
In flesh as in spirit
A fully completed soul
Ready to be shared now
(Between two bodies
Shrunk in both ways)
Right in the heart of feel
When it’s difficult
If not really entirely
Impossible, to grab
Our sexuality like
The tail of a beast
Plodding heavily away
Soulmelting: for LL
The moment I inject
All my selfhoods
Into your flesh
My soul dissolves
Into the moisture
Of your love
Like a snowflake
Falling into a hot spring
Skylight at Midnight
Not really the rain
Tapping it aloud
Like sparrows’ beaks
But all the stars
From the outer space
Splashing down
Into a Bai Juyi’s
Plate for the dancing
Pearls that I am
Trying hard to catch
And embed within
This foreign stanza
Feel of Sexual Love: for LL
Finally, I’ve become
One and the same
With you in body &
In spirit, but how come
I cannot hear my
Own heart beats?
What has happened
To my ears? Even
Your laughter is not
Sound, but sweet
Light, while your
Touch in not feel
But a fragrant taste
Just as your smile
Is not look, but a
Tender atmosphere
As all my senses
Start to malfunction
I know I’ve lost
My entire selfhood
As deep in character
As in synesthesia
Gardening: for LL
With my rusty flesh spade
I try digging deep in my
Private garden, where I
Hope to sow the seed of
My proto selfhood right
At your G-spot, where it
Would one day grow into
Another earthly Yggdrasil
Finnegan’s Wake: for LL
It’s in this moment when I
Cannot help letting out
A cry in ecstatic agony
From the heart of my soul
That I have at last attained
My total loss of body & soul
A momentary feel to be
Immortalized only by death
The Joy of Talking: for LL
We could never stop talking
Just couldn’t really get
Enough of it. Or couldn’t
Get enough of each other
So, let’s keep talking about
Everything (or nothing)
As if it were love per se
As if it were more soul-
Melting than having sex
After all, we’ve joined each
Other completely inside
Out across the Pacific
And the Pandemic like
Two deeply entangled quanta
Love vs Marriage: A Contrastive Definition
Love: Talking
& sleeping
With
each other
Passionately
& Endlessly
Marriage: Eating
together
Between
daily trivialities
Until
talking & sleeping
Are
no longer really enjoyable
When
it becomes chicken ribs that are
Tasteless
to eat, but a pity
To
throw away
Diphthongs Deconstructed
Wakie wacky, you dum dum
Stop dillying dallying, &
Don’t wishy washy
Or shilly shally
But chop chop
Let’s leave the hurly burly
All the wishy washy, or
Whim whams of this market
And join each other inside out
Becoming lovey dovey
Even palsy walsy
To complete our souls with hocus pocus
Cubic Collages from a Cultural Calendar
1. Seeds
Windy shapes
The butterflies will be
attracted once you bloom
2. Growths
Sunny lines
The tallest tree will be
the first to have its top blown off
3. Gleanings
Dreamy colors
Every fallen leaf finds
its way back to its root
4. Storages
Snowy atmosphere
All lifeforms keep
gathering energy from amidst the dark
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