alive – Page 2 – Portrait of Em.

castle-in-the-air

image from Internet

The castle in the air
means more than you can bear:
If what you can do is what you declare
And what you can think is brighter than a flare…

The world is nothing but a nightmare.

Written on 15 September 2014.

when-love-is-true-it-waits

when love is true it waits,
when love is fake it waits,
when love is going on it waits,
when love is over he waits.

love spends its whole life waiting for the lover to love back
but when the lover has come there is no way to track.

love loves to love love,
love needs love to love,
love cannot help with love,
love loves what love loves.

Written on 5 September 2014.

life-in-hongkong

we are born
and grow
and go to school
where we learn to grow
into whom we are
whom we are wished and longed and hoped and prayed
to be;

we grow
into the person
the human-being who has no i:

forced to learn
a whole series of
sports and musiques and languages and arts
and trained to be an obedient quiet nice and kind little kid;

and when the day comes when we are forced to transform and turn
and grow and change into an adult-like being —

rubbish life
earning for life but not living
emptiness in memories of childhood
of fun and habits

and… it is always already too late.

Written on 1 August 2014.

portrait

what would you do, if i
ask you to draw a portrait of me?

i say,
“give me three minutes,”

right — three minutes has gone
and here, i am done.

miraculous artist am i!
marvelous, oh i am!

laugh, as you like,
and i know, for sure, i am right.

Written on 24 May 2014.
when a poet draws.

conversation

In response to Octavio Paz’s “A Tree within”.

no i cannot,
i think i cannot,
and i found i cannot.

blind eyes,
deaf ears,

for the world has long become ignorant and arrogant
and the fire of passion
is put off —
dim and dark
and the blood is stagnant
and cold and bold and dead

for the gap between us
is too far to be skipped

the tree within is a tree within,
without branches to touch and to stay in touch with
without being noticed

come closer, can you hear mine?

no you cannot.

Written on 24 Jul 2014.

to-the-pessimist

hi me, dear pessimist,

i know well, from the start of my life-as-a-poet,
that i am
born to be deprived.

for life is given
with presumptions:
as an investment tool,
as a tree of money and golds,
and the rights are given
on the basis of lies,
to calm you down, to incept, to brainwash, to renew, to build a self
in the world of craziness.

this is the paradise —
our city,
the post-colony,
the international hub of world’s economy,
the stepping stone,

to a greater world.

born to be deprived — this is our lives.

Written on 20 May 2014.

sight-of-spring

quiet leaves falling
like snowflakes
like raindrops
like feathers
unstrung, untangled, unrestricted.

lifeless living branch
stagnant moving trench
trough.

Written on 28 April 2014.

things

things come in clusters,
worse things in pairs,
at least:

friends, family, self,
confusion, emotions, tensions,
pressure, pleasure, measures —

the way of the world,
the rule of sequences.

clustered, crumbled, crushed, clashed.

Written on 16 April 2014.

aeruophobia

i cannot help with the sense of fear,
what if it is the last time i see you,
who knows what would happen in the air,
or if it is the nature’s rule?

if it is the last time
i hold you and kiss you and declare my love;
if our love is a crime
and i am to be engulfed,

i wish to say
for the last time that i love
you and never want to stay away
from you, for true;

one last time to realize that life is too fragile,
too short, yet quick and fast
to be held, be grabbed for a while,
we got but a blast.

things are, for sure, unpredictable,
this is the fate
whether affordable,
too serious to love, to live and to hate.

Written on 7 August 2014,
the very first business trip.

thinking-together

Sloth leads to laziness in thinking and
Living keeps us staying awake.

“Thinking makes you a philosopher?”
— Thinking makes me a dreamer, I say.

“I am living in a dream
Dreams are existing in my life

When, am I awake?
When, am I dreaming?

Walk, Dream, Sleep, Dream, Live.”

You are existing in the dream and
Living in the dream.
For dreams become your reality and you are sleeping within.
So am I.

“I like how our words make a book together.”
Our book is made up of poems,
And our poems paint our dream.
We are the only two dreamy monsters
In this sweet lovely dream.

Written on 31 December 2013, co-poet is Cheron T.
Writing a poem together is fun.