hongkong – Page 5 – Portrait of Em.

ration-ale

everything happens
for
a reason,
but you do not
need
a reason
for
something
to be happened.

Written on 7 March 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.

to-our-world

Veiled is the world,
Sugar-coated, flower wrapped, covered smoothly with a thin piece of silk:
Pretty petit pity world.

Tangled Art,
Shadow beneath,
Raveled knots,
Opened locks,
Hidden gems retrieved.

Blurred amid the smoke emit,
Lights evoked, for one can never
Look at the real face of hers, like
A soon-to-be married bride,
Young girl,
Shy and sweet.

Written on 7-8 March 2014.

present

head-aching,
heart-breaking.

right,
give up sympathy,
develop ignorance,
nourish cruelty,
sow and grow the precious arrogance.

perhaps i am far too sympathetic
to stay in this world
pathetic.

Written on 18 February 2014.

romanticism

gloomy clouds, gray clouds,
crumbled clouds, sad clouds,
walking clouds, angry clouds,
and the wandering clouds;

falling raindrops, cheerful raindrops,
dancing raindrops, naughty raindrops,
and the crying grief raindrops;

warm sun, happy sun, ignorant innocent sun;
lazy water, stagnant water, silently still water;

and the sinking us.

Written on 1 March 2014,
spontaneous outflow of feelings to the contemporary world.

make-a-wish

hello my dear friends
up in the sky,
have you known
what have been happening to our very tiny world?

my world has changed
from a semi-paradise,
a not-very-perfect utopia
into purgatory,
to hell:

the missing flight,
the shipwreck,
the tragic planes,
the crashed trains,
the burning buses,
the cracked roads,
the exploding city,
the killing virus,
the fatal wars,
and all that done by my selfishly self-centered human-fellows.

if i am to wish upon a star,
i pray,
for the peace of the world,
for the happiness of my fellow,
for love,
for respect,
for a better world,
all the very best.

Written on 2 August 2014,
to the people of the world, in memoir of
the missing MH370
the shipwreck in korea
the MH17, AH5017, GE222
the burning buses and crashed trains in china,
the taiwan gas blast,
the murderer ebola in africa, and
all the wars.

mémoire

clutters of thoughts,
crushed feelings,
crashed emotions,

laughter, surprise, sadness,
grief, tears, screams,
moan, mourn, regrets,
creep,

all that come in a sudden
like a flash
at a moment,

too short to be held,
too soon to be understood,
too fast to be remembered,

but this is the way of life, of nature, of world.

Written on 17 February 2014,
In memoir of Mr Mui, a former teacher of mine, who passed away earlier.

us-as-sinners

i am a sinner
no matter what
no matter what
i am a sinner
no matter what

for every line i write
for every word i say
for every stroke i paint
for every suggestion i make
for every clue i give
no one is to hear
to listen
to understand

to the sky
to the sea
to the landfill
to the gutter

better say nothing
better not to think

in a world like this
of ours
we are all sinners

written on 23 Jan 2014

my-name

Love is miraculous, it is
A magic casted on us at a special
Moment in time,
Happily ever after, i pray, merrily going
Over and over and over, for
I am falling in love and knowing
You are feeling the same,
A little wish i make will
Never ever fade.

Written on 11 Jan 2014,
spells my name.

literature

les fleurs du mal,
the yellow wallpaper,
the picture of dorian gray,
the old man and the sea,
a room with a view,
a pale view of hills
nineteen-eighty-four,
never let me go,
dubliners.

be drunken in literature,
in prose, in stories,
or in novels,
or in movies,
or in poetries,
or in words,
and in dreams;

forget about the really real reality,
believe in nothing that you see,
born and deprived and hope to be free,
to read,
to think,
to pray,
to chase,
to achieve,

what cannot be done by the body, the limbs, the senses,
if possible,
by the mind,

at least.

written on 15 July 2014, be drunken.