question – Portrait of Em.

Ashes

A miserable night,
Tears amid solitude,

Silence of the heart,
Unheard scream stuck at the bottom of the throat,

Broken dreams
Too fragile kept,

Fragments too sharp to be collected
Left ignored
Reduced to ashes…

Written on 12 September 2017.

cafe-life

breeze amid the stagnant air
blowing through the floating hair
lightly slip by the ringing ear

pop

for life is too soon to be captured
too fast to hold
and too heavy to bear

when the days and nights are filled with nothing
but sheer despair.

Written on 21 Oct 2014.

utopia-?

living in hong kong
is like an ant in the tong —
nothing seems wrong
nowhere to belong.

ages bygone
forcing one to work on,
life is no way to be withdrawn,
the blackened white swan.

From now and then
we cannot stop thinking when
we can stop being manipulated by men,
work and eat and sleep and time and again.

Written on 11 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.

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.

rain-bow

Photo comp Oct 13

What is at the end of the rainbow?
“No, there isn’t an end.”
How do you know?
“There is a story about the end of the rainbow is a pot of gold.”
So you think there isn’t an end?
“I have no idea,
I have never seen a real rainbow.”

You said.

We will find one together.
I said.

I will place it round your wrist,
It is your rainbow bracelet;
I will place it on your finger,
It is our rainbow ring.

So now you know —
At the end of the rainbow,
There is nothing, but our souls.
Yet something is gonna glow,
It’s our love, which grows.

What is at the end of the rainbow?
Now we know.

Written on 7 August 2013, while I was whatsapp-ing with you.
Love will guide us there,
And I am always with you.