My heart flutters
My chest ripples
Stuck in a tight place
Like it can’t suppress its voice 
Any more
Finally
Out of control

I’m caught between two rivers
Both wants to live
My heart and I 
A horror story with rose bouquets 

时

有时你是一座峭壁
有时你是草原上一棵孤树
有时你是棉花做的蚊帐一样的天空
有时你是颗粒状的丝绸
有时我看不到你
只看到你荔枝一样的蓝眼睛
有时你的一切都在我的虹膜里
唯独失去烟熏的干稻草一头

有时我与你等身，踢你尖刀一样的石头
有时你用枝叶代替我的手臂而我允许
有时你的低语让我想到一个名字叫乳木果
有时你又用天蓝或淡青的蒸气包裹住我
在我的脸上剐下一道道怀疑

有时我不知道时间在哪里
也许在沙滩上空一双邪恶地搓着的手掌心
也许只在你我心里

.

31/10/2009

雪已经连续下了三天
想去一个有氛围的地方
然而想象中的雪
总是和现实中的不一样

The Cripple

You will forgive me, sir,
I have no ears,
No eyes,
No mouth. 
I cannot see or hear
Your plight.
Though you may be crying 
Your throat raw,
I won’t even bat an eye.

It’s been this way for me
Since birth, 
Or maybe not quite,
But surely as far as I can remember.
Being a cripple is no source
Of embarrassment, you see. 
There are many like me.
When there’s a fire, 
We bathe by the heat
And count our blessings.
When there’s a flood,
We drink from the water
And know soon it’ll be spring. 

Why, being a cripple is the first thing
You learn in this country.
I’ve even seen people getting
Medalled for excelling at it. 

So go on, go on, sir,
Claw your throat out.
Paint our rivers red.
Cry about your plight.
See if I bat an eye. 

解答原本十分简单
把自己想象成诗人
爱原本十分简单
把自己想象成诗人

少思考
多裸露
不喜欢的手稿
揉一揉丢掉

爱的意义
本就在于白纸一张

你像水
而我是久旱的毛笔
你是琴键
而我是不知自己存在的乐曲
你是久违的
藏在被窝里读书的快乐
你是夜的平静

你是木工匠人
我是长途跋涉流浪到你门前的狗
想学你一样慢慢
吃好这一碗饭

人类正在亲手摧毁曾亲手创造的文明
而身处这样一个时代
也没什么不好
崩倒的雪山中
每一片雪花都有功劳

betweenthetimeandsound:

goneahead:

somebodyssongbird:

anjo-emporium:

somebodyssongbird:

If I write you
You will never leave
You will be with me
When you are not

If I write you
You will stay mine
I will have you
Even though I do not

your voice on the phone
is a lone clarity desperately
needed in these ravaged times

the heat of the city bears down
the cicadas have fallen silent

at the end of a night shift
this is why the long walk home
never seems to end
in arrival.

At dawn we hang up
Hang up our longings
Our wired connection
Looping back to reality

But for an hour
You were with me again
For an hour
We were just the same

Your voice lingers long after blue chases

dawn from the sky. The city is so

full of summer, and my chest

is so full of each shared

word. I sit on the

bus, clutching

my grocery

list,  but

mostly

hope-

~~~~~

@somebodyssongbird@anjo-umbra ❤️ for the prompt!

@dirtyfilthy@cruxymox@quietdissidentlyricist@narniaandthenorth@thedge-of-forever@betweenthetimeandsound@a-musingmichelle@randomlyjay@my-universe nd anyone who wants to join! tag! you’re it!

Yet your words do not conjure the same warmth
a pair of hands would allow to touch.
Opening a door, the empty light
follows in, and I delude myself
into thinking you’re standing
in front of me.

Words are knives, but their edge
dulls too quickly for me
to know how this ends–
not in bliss, but in mist.

@fragiledewdrop@pinkmoonpoetry@yukiripoems@bk-poetry@roman–empyre Your turn!

Through the fog you walk toward me
Into the light
Younger than I’ve ever remembered you
Older than I’ll ever get

You speak those words again
Blue bubbly words
You speak your poetry
And for the first time
I hear them

Take me into your winter
Let the nights sing in chorus
Look how the frozen cicadas’ wings
Ripple in splendour

I wake up
I’ve fallen asleep by your grave
I check my watch
An hour 
No more
How very precise of you

I get up
And walk out of the fog
All around the winter begins to melt

@smakkabagms