LISTEN, POETRY HAS A FAINT VOICE EVEN SO


98

I will put chaos into sixteen lines
And remember the effort hidden in alphabets
The flood, fire and demon of all words
The order of memory put to paper, pen, screen

The arrogance of feeling misunderstood
For all eternity, I will put these confessions
To bed, without answers, evermore
I will strain to invisible problems

And witness an audience of writers
Struggling to find themselves
Past the hours, in their earthly dreams
I will pet the anxiety of paragraphs

And etch them in the frailty of my will
Stitching with careful industry my loss
That I might recall my tragedy in lines
The laughter trapped in summer crickets long ago.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/–467093425

Last Age of Humanity


97

Let us abandon then our gardens
And go home, Earth does not care
The trials of her fruit, her childrens’
Strange makeup, the way we
Cannot balance for her long reign

Let us abandon then our cities here
And return to the stars, Earth does not
Mind if our heroes depart
Let us go home, and sit in the sitting room
And admire the history of our kind

Before it is too late, before extinction’s bell
Out of the glittering bay
Of our countless genocides and mistakes
Leaving countless forests barren
And burying darkness of our blood upon the plains

Let us abandon then our memories & fears
When from the splendid dead, we see what
We have at last become, part-machine
It is the end of an era, of almighty sex
Now evolution pursues new paths

Leaving the leftovers to no dominion
Let us abandon then our genes
For clones, hybrids, new models
Of what life could have, should have, been.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Daria-467104664

Of herald wings came whispering


96

Time does not bring relief, it begs
For change, like a butterfly in July
The old snow melted from every
Mountainside, but who’s to say

How tall the grass grows
Heaped on my heart like layers of years
Only love, with the shrinking of the tides
Can ease the pain of separation

And now, I am determined
To be the gladdest thing
Under the sun, to touch a hundred flowers
With light that begins to show

The clime of summer, the power of Autumn
My soul can split the sky in two
And arrange the face of God
In my future’s make, with a pinch

Of East and West, no wider
Than the heart is wide and wise.

Photo Courtesy of: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Herring-Gull-Wing-Detail-467038412

LANDSCAPE WITHOUT ANGELS


95

Bravely in a land of dust
As pilgrims we make our way
To some far country we believe is good
But the truth is, we are all immigrants

Nomads and priestesses of our faith
Sojourning in foreign countries
In heart-broken cities that endure
An agony to submit

To the volatile finger of God
Or to thrust our lives
In the climate or our Self-Will
Our solid body craving so much

In the muted landscapes of our youth
Bravely in a land of dust
As pilgrims we make our way
In forever-turning seasons

That bend in the breeze with rust
Beneath implied-expectations where
Our worth is judged, every day.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/the-city-lights-152148064

The Death of Roses, 玫瑰之死


94

It’s July, and the world smells like roses
The Sunshine is powdered goal
My gladness can carry you
Don’t you know my sentimentality by now?

Crimson and sensual, likes splashes of blood
I shall end my life in Rose petals
The months you tended me
Your hands grew roses from my body

And I became, someone beautiful
In your expectations of tasting
Sweetness in everything
It’s July, and the world is good near you

Like a woman with untidy hair
The bouquet that was our affection had
Become messy, passionate with a fragrance
For an obsession at the garden

Of growing hidden buds, that might at any moment
Bloom, ready to die, is there anything as
Romantic as roses on a grave?

The point is you can turn my grief into love
You, like the rose are helping me find grace.

CELEBRATION OF THE ETERNAL ROSE, 永恆玫瑰的慶典


93

If I confess your body is
The only civilization besides Roses
I long to experience, do not say

Do not say that I only adore blooming things
A Rose at any stage of life is gracious
Moist petalled or dropping wearily

The rain on her lips is like butter-music
If men, were created before women
It is only to appreciate their fullest creation

Like the beauty of the rose whose temptation
Is somehow feminine, a scent spinning
Into oblivion, as flesh seeking to born out living flesh

In blessed and blushing confessions
Or the redness of the weight of the body
The Rose that has told in one simplicity

That never life relinquishes a bloom
But to bestow an ancient confidence:
A man gives a woman a Rose

This symbolic gesture mimics evolution
Women are not roses, they are not
Oceans or stars, I would like to tell her

But I think she already knows.
As a misty dream, our path emerges
Like days of wine and roses, celebration.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/where-the-wild-roses-grow-131859161

DELIGHT OF THE MIDNIGHT ROSE, 午夜玫瑰的喜悅


92

Soft desires I can trace
Back to the lap of Roses who
Sing away with secret smiles
For whispers of their softest limbs
Whimpering for petals that say

Touch my cheek, pet my soul
When thy little heart doth wake
For this light shall break
On this womb, this womb that makes
A Rose as sweet, Red like the Lioness

Red like the sacred flesh
Soft desires fragrant like the whole
The Rose that sets love on fire
From a hungry gorge, the pit, the abyss
Terror of the divine form embraced

The Rose’s thorns, furnace sealed
A hungry Rose that lingers secretly
For the touch of a woman’s hand
The rose is not fair without the beloved’s face
Lips that like to sugar, grace like a flower
That sways, in the breeze, for mirth and feast.