Subservience to the Sun


 

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Xiao Wei, when I feel your happiness

Radiate to me, I know it’s not something I can catch

It’s just your energy of action

 

That transforms me by extension of contact

With you, the midnight street of my life

Does not feel as lonely any more

 

Though I must accept my own darkness

In your life I see a part of the world’s truth

I am not young like your sturdy walk

 

I do not strive quite, like you stalk your future

Like a crouching tiger with long black hair

I study your posture and look for your mood

 

Xiao Wei, I will never know if it’s raining

In California, because when I think of you

I only can witness a golden orange sun

 

Hit me like fabulous lutes and peacocks

Of morning in the waves, of noon in the gardens

And if I seem too interested, then let it be my own lack.

I Thrum for News of You


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Xiao Wei, since whomever

I did well by, I want to touch

The dewy blanket, the space between our lives

All night long, as if ~

The youth I can’t remember

Bid me farewell, they are the very ones

Who injure me most of all

That I long to hold most of all

Xiao Wei, if I cannot say your name

Then to whose voice shall I dispel

Come now, sing this, all of you

And add your voices for the ocean whales

And the life I would have loved

Had you been of my own culture

Had you been of my own care

The unmarried woman is, a prayer gone wild

For humankind, and maidens to keep a vigil for

The brides are gone, forever more

To the genes of old, they renew their force

In little faces, and mothering grace

But Xiao Wei, how much time is left?

Until you too walk the thorny veils

I won’t be able to hear your voice

Shaking inside my breast, for much too long

That I cannot speak any more,

When your tongue breaks down and you

Are silent, I thrum for news of you.

Life Armour


 

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Xiao Wei, flee into the western horizon

I will not find you, I cannot

Go too far from where I am, my heart

 

Has no courage for risks or a sacred recess

Into the wild, I am a tame overshadowed thing

There is no goddess in my alley

 

Only the dark, and the damp

Upon the altars I’ll be the settled leaves

In graceful goblets of my fate

 

I’ll be, the one that watches you go

Through the glad festivities of a woman’s life

To build and caress and multiply

Xiao Wei, do we only desire normal lives

There is majesty in duty I suppose

 

Though as in the old days I have wept

For sameness, wept that I was different

Though all life is invocation

And one day I’ll have to finish innovation

Over being a role, a pillar, a nest.

The Western Seas


 

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Xiao Wei, if the moon hath left the sky

Be it for you, lost in the Pleiads’ light

With such a soft sweet glow,

It is midnight here, but I wonder as

 

Time slips by, why you live in me

With the ache of breeze and infinity

How does the moon disappear

Into the sea, and how does she know?

 

That time lasts as long as fruit hungry

For the ground, to transport the seed

As if it was all fated long ago

Our ancestors met and moved

 

To new valleys and new shores

Only to result in our eyes looking

Reaching over oceans as such

Xiao Wei, where do the birds roam?

 

That they look not for fragments

But they feel the whole, the earth, wind and seas

From above, how lost I am in this digital world

Where the future is a simulation

 

And a woman is a dream, I guess

I will never truly visit California

It’s only an idea lost in your voice

Where memory is graft that outgrows itself

 

From reality and between fantasy

All summer kinship dispels the mortal rose

Xiao Wei, but I will remember thee.

Torchlight California


 

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Xiao Wei, do you know that I

Wait on the bird of the wire for you

I have not heard one word from her

I will never leave that which translates me

Into braided rosebuds, sun sprinkled care

The choruses of us, the life-song notes

While no voices chant of the Seasons

I must a woodland homage pay homage to

The stars, and things eternally there

Xiao Wei, how I have been haunted

By the mandarin symbols of another time

As if my poems belonged to ancestors

You were the day purple ribbon kites blew for me

A day of fresh flowers and eternity translated

In the lyrics of nature’s kindness to me

It’s rare Xiao Wei, to feel all of this like the

Weight of the Pleiades looking down upon me

Don’t ask me why it is but you embroider

Life in me, like a lilac sunset and the silver dawn.

A Woman’s World


 

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To fight alone Is not brave
It’s suicidal, the Calvary is a family
Success is empty when not shared
The heart is not a solitary thing
The kingdom needs a female ruler

A smile suffused with creation
A bliss larger than heaven
A womb whose content is hope

No, to live alone is not healthy
To hide in the virtual worlds
We all require the skin on skin
Of happiness, the fruit of labor
The ripeness of summer

Success is not devoid of love or grace
It is for relationships that we conquer
The value is always in giving

I have a missing friend in my heart
Who taught me the joy of service
Fighting is for the tribe, not the individual
A harmony of identity diffused
In a higher aim, in a greater glory

Accessible like an inherited thrill
Or a gene that shines for everything
The dopamine of a better world.

Being an Invisible Virgin


 

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Xiao Wei, in the hours of our brief obstacles

Can you remember the smell of roses?

I have too many fragments of beauty

In my soul, I’m light as a feather

 

Without attachment, I dream of you today

I crave the brilliance of an embattled lifetime

The suffering of sleeping alone

And finding pause and dear companions

 

In the shallow night of superficial years

Xiao Wei, you have no idea ~

How much and love for the sun, you have brought me

I must lead an empty life to say it is so

 

But coming from heaven, I beg the universe

At times for little gestures, tiny signs

That I too have a place in existence

Xiao Wei, the giver of plenitude

 

I am a vessel as if filled by your water

Your tears, your sweat, your mind’s blood is my own

I inherit you by nearness to you

I mirror your kindness by being familiar to you

 

I love what you love by proximity

I ache what you ache for by shared identity

I am nothing and nobody without that

Xiao Wei, there are no friends that last forever

 

At least not for me, so as I am assaulted by

A glimpse into forever, I pause at the spring

At the fountain of you, at the purity

At the gestures of my lost youth

 

Xiao Wei, it does not matter who I loved or what I did

But did I rejoice in what was given?

Was I grateful for my innocence virginity

For the gifts of my character, that to others

 

Were a vice, my gifts of royalty that to others

Went invisible, farewell my friend

These times pass and go, but I linger in the middle

In the love of your imagined nearness

Like a broken hearted ghost.

 

 

 

Letters to Xiao Wei


 

Owl

 

 

Xiao Wei, it’s not unlike the gods to

Celebrate us without any idols

My organs dance to the design of time

 

My lips are streaked with silence

My heart is stained with flowers

My hopes are soft voices left unwhispered

 

My faith is a tenuous flame that gleams

Darkest in the adversity of the night

Xiao Wei, my spirit is hidden beneath

 

The miracles of our everyday duties

That pause and collapse like a winding universe

Whose goal is nothing, so how shall we

 

Feel the change, when spring arrives ~

When morning sends me a blanket of light

To roam, across your face, across hours

 

Where I must not desire too much

The ancient genes of ancestors

I can only linger with humility

 

I am not part of the loveliest, but

You are, I can see it in your strength

In the tilt of your hips to the stars

 

In the palpitant passion of your ray

In the seasonal angle for your inner sun

I feel it like a necklace of seashells

 

In the weight of your tired smile

In the fragrance of your voice

That rings like an emblem of consecration

 

For which I do not know the significance

I am only a bystander that happened

To look into your shinning parlour of fantastic peace

 

I know you by your gruelling song of radiance

By your fire of quality, your industry of creation.

Xiao Wei, stay close, entice me again with your wisdom.

Princess of the Sun


 

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Xiao Wei, how could one indeed not

Repeatedly feel the wonder of this world

This cosmos, so green and so vast

With eyes like yours, with the twinkle of Shengyang

 

The sun from the honest world of the north

Xiao Wei, over whomever one really

Wanted to meet, I must give salute and bow low

This world is full of goodness, if we

 

Know how to find it, and sweat the

Speechless feverish fires of passion

That break our trembling months into

Golden prosperity, we are all ghosts and memories

 

Xiao Wei, how to find experience

The spring blooms of our native touch?

Until the seasons grant us some joy

So free and pure that our hearts are broken

 

Open, in the fields, beneath the stars

With children and the legacies of our minds

That ache and aspire to repeat the experience

You may not recall the Shen river

 

Where we once met, I had another form then

And you were the bride of the entire world.

Untamed Time


 

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Overnight where I slept

I felt the chill of eternity

Sweep through the years of this body

 

And my brain was only an experience

It wasn’t real if real things last

The love I had I gave to the Earth

 

To her children and the soil

Where I grew a garden in my mind

There was no love there

 

Just the thrill of a destiny

Broken and churned like

The pangs of creation gone un-nurtured

 

Sleep was like that in mortality

A kind of escape from the anxiety

Of living and not knowing how to

 

Create destiny with mere tools

And hope out of loneliness.

 

Solace in the Sun


Sunflower

 

 

 

I received an envelope from the universe

It had your stamp in it, a sun within a cheek

Of the heart I never knew existed

And I wanted to please you like a burning star

 

But I could not reach you across

Distances or time, across the climes

Of fate and heights and wonderment

I woke to find my life had bled

 

Uncertainty and too much cowardice

I opened up the letter from my soul

To find my body had died long ago

And I knew you by your energy

 

I didn’t require eyes or breath or a brain

To know that somewhere our flames had mingled

Light with light, a hand with a hand

A home that never had a family to call my own

 

I was abandoned, brittle, and deformed

But I knew you existed, and that was a weird solace.

 

After Taking with Miss Sun


 

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We, do not sleep at night

We collide with stars

Our cold part goes into the Milky way

To be swept by the tides of clarity

Neuron reaches albino heart

 

Hope bleeds victory plump as the Moon

For a time, it’s 3am when you realize

That I labour like an Asian, but to no avail

Work does not win us friends

Success does not win us love

 

Nothing else matters but poetry and love

We can die in poverty, happy, finally

For simplicity is what it is

Our soul the necessary action of

Mortal hours wasted, or won

 

Like the calm hush of a thousand winters

We’ll only see sixty, maybe a few more

I won’t live forever, I’ll go hungry

Into the beyond, writing poems for reincarnations

Where I will forget what poems were or are

 

Or who made them and by whose hands

I’ll go like a surrendered flag bloody

With no business writing, I’ll just write

For myself, like a lost soul without a Sun

No map will recover who I was, that

 

Being who was never understood, nobody knew

How the pale baby of our dreams slip away

We, do not sleep at night

We just remember that thing that escape memory

It plummets like the night sky

 

Walking past the lives we could have had

Ignoring who was our wife in an alternate universe

There’s no composure to wasting potential

It’s just all we can do in the bottleneck design

Of a capitalistic world created to eat itself

 

There’s no room for love for me, only survival

I am a masochist, martyr, beggar and dreamer

That’s the last monument to my failed Ego

I have enough ID to last me into dog-eared certainty

I’m certain I love life more than others

Even if it does not always seem that way.

 

E.J’s Trip rope


 

 

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Eun Ji, how does a poem grow

From your shoulders as the years shine

Like a woman’s sadness that shuffles as it aches

Or elongated moves from man to man

 

In the cold months of identity in elegant death

I’ve watched you across books, speeches,

Highs and lows with hair hung in confession

And I’ve seen the fun house of your erections and

 

Encompassing many kinds of awareness

I’ve seen you cry in a poem

And I haven’t a clue what the end-game is

Nor how far we can push language at its brink

 

Or what gamification allows us to sing

When all the trees have been downed

And all the books have gone unread

Drowned in a sea of screens, lives churning

 

From reality, waiting impatiently at the

Digital timelines, tunnels into simulation

Eun Ji, will you even remember the syllables

That stretched your heart to your cheek

 

You were mad with the ocean once

And hearing you speak Korean, I felt landlocked

A permanently strange indentation in your psyche

You would never feel, you suspected it was

 

A native part of your own psyche, and I was just

The circus-gear of your imagination

An opened mouthed and clumsy sport gone unwhispered

No, I was the whisper of hypnosis that dilated

Your hardy gone funky work ethic of verse.

After Profiteers


Screen Shot 02-07-16 at 10.10 PMExultation is in the going
The inland soul flees time’s superficiality
We are nomads, then
In deep eternity and

The powerful machines are coming
My brethren have take to cities
Flooded the seas with their discarded wealth
But wealth is not what it once was

Profit is for dying eyes
And hearts that are not awake
Paradise is not an ownership
It is a freedom and a delight

I never spoken with God
But I saw her face in creation
Revived and renewed in a thousand eyes
I felt the novel agony of a lost humanity

So bemused and so conquered by suffering
Taken from men who war for their pride
I will not exalt in the smallness
Of my life, I will live it finely

With women, who understand me
And roses, as grateful as I
Lost among the crowds, I will
Enjoy my difference, and remain

A peculiar traveller of what comes and goes
Curiosity, that’s the only name
I care to pronounce.

But With a Fraction of the Love


 

 

 

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I’ve felt my life

In the murmur of a bee

And felt all my tears

 

In the eminence of a nest

And the daffodils blew color

Covert as April, or candid as May

I took my time to age and my time

Was plenty, in the solitude

 

Of antiquity, forgetting for answering

Only questions, guided me

At the breaking of the day

 

Where golden drops spawned

Longer looks and deeper searching

All for something immaterial

There is a flower which no longer blooms

It’s in my heart or should I say, it was

 

It’s gentle romance led me on

In the chivalry of my subjective warmth

Where I was not alone, nor humming birds left

 

The measures of days were not my smiles

My splendour was meagre, my heart

Was the moistness of oxygen

In your lungs, the breath that kept you sane

When life was a tyranny of choice until

 

There was none left and freedom hung

Like a low hanging fruit, of what our lives had become.

 

In Process of the Seasons of You in Me


 

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Love, there was never an audience

Only the taste of a premonition

That died so easily in your hands

And my life was an illusion

 

But my dreams had a vividness to me

You were never old to me, I never tired of your

Native voice, the April lift of your soul

The green Junes burning in your hair

 

The majesty of your words

That my songs could never dear

Summers died at your feet

Love, I roamed beaches and years

 

Trailing the path you had fled

And white as the sun, I never tasted you

Only an invisible promise of hope

That bled in me when I thought of you.