Eve was the one to blame
Evening took the hour of shame
Adam lost his point in fearful defence
Eden lost its keepers and turned into
a garden without fences

The serpent made it a permanent job
kept haking every man's hands
Peace became a precious hope
Remaining in endless fights ever since

2024.1.4.

No thing to be ex-cited about
No body would re-member yester night
No wonder would re-main the same
It's just another in-no-cent day
Arrives in no time

2024.1.1.

“The name that can be named
is not the ordinary name.”


Actually everyone carries
a dead person’s name
including the homeless
never mind they abandoned
their homes but not names
Alive or dead names
basically sound the same

I did see nameless persons
on different occasions
once at the Australian War Memorial
an unknown soldier lies
beneath the dome
while his brothers lining up
against the wall, outside, still

Many times I read poems
by anonymous poets
those early bards of all nations
on earthly soil
Unlike today’s poets of fame
they never forget printing their names
at the bottom of each stolen piece

Can one live or travel without a name?
Not really, to be honest even they are willing
Can one love or die without a name?
Yes, one soldier did and we know him well

A beam of brightness shedding from the sky
A message received instantly at heart
A teardrop falls in direction of the light
A flowerbud blossoms in just a second

we
die to live
daily

a place
my latest
previous life lived
in unfamiliar yester-hours

Knowing is not a state in silence
but an active movement in peace
Nothing on lips tastes genuine
until it serves and lights up a soul
No one could live without fear
if all are doomed to end
Invite a complete cleansing of the sins
and welcome the immortal return
“Now be with the King” a calling in one word
That’s what knowing is all about

2021.7.24

for Nian Nian Project initiated by Ai Weiwei


The night is still young
A film with its full cast on and on

A pair of eyes out of deep
dark earth to see a lost sky

For those of us watching
We see stars blessed in disguise

April 13, 2021

Don’t hope less but
make your hope full

Nothing is new unless
we renew ourselves

Wor-l-d
A divided
Word

I guess I hear me failing
Much more in-no-saintly than
Those yesterry moments of
Deep-fried pain on this sorryland

My bewildered accent in
Tangled town spending
Words landable none
On any paper less prints

A beam of Diwalight reflashes
My dwelling in ducked after-mess
Recounting vowels and towels
cows and boys in coward towers

I plant seeds by buring them hoping
they grow up to be bitter drugs curing
the self-modifying deseases aiming
to decease the last human kinds

Strokes on paper 
none strokes in wise minds
once familar but now in strangers uniforms
walking on pure lands footprinting 
phrases on top of grassroots 
imaging from a distance of 
trees in the deep forest
the leaves, branches and hidden

birdsongs being interpreted as joy
even when it rains
green leaves turn to earthly brown
dry lands go wet and muddy
beautiful scenes, rot and vanish until
becoming wealthy soil again feeding
the uprising fresh newborn
after a long-awaited

spring. sprung, spun
threads dyed with veg and flowers 
dried on rocks, under the sun
then being hung on a wooden-framed
chamberlike knitting machnism
women sitting alongside days and nights
recounting detailed stories of innocence

comets appeared and gone
flowers blossomed and withered
days dawned and darkened
nights shaded and shallowed
the unspoken came and stays
the unsean arrived and resides
the remains of the remainers
live in dead, smell poison while
the ending begins there

May 22, 2019

time to jump off the boat and swim
swim to the faraway island and sing
sing high until i am floating in the sky
pretend i am a kite, connecting myself slightly to the earth
and never say goodbye

you have to search me on the island from tomorrow on
if you cannot see me, i must be hiding in the lake
when time comes the lake surface is still
lonesomeness might bring me down to the deep
save me by walking on the bank, little breeze would keep me alive

i might still feel the warmth of light at the bottom
i also know the water is penetrating everywhere
like roots of a big tree reaching and crossing over
the lake is indeed a beautiful eye
green grasses are eyebrows dancing in the wind
life is nature, now and here
i will be wearing those beautiful clothes even after I disappear

Life starts from an innocent place of blindness
living long in others memories
A withheld breath at the neck of
a less than full bottle

When all these are to be emptied
it becomes the last lucky drop
sticking to the bottle firmly
at the bottom

We each got one chance to
dream a dream, and the next day
will be like it as promised

Look at what's happening today
I realise I have failed
Hence I come to let you know
the secret privately as the murmuring
into my ears five hundred years ago

i might die innocently
without knowing you
your wits and pain
compatible

you might live ignorantly
without recognising me
my pain and presences
unbearable

we might come across
one day after you also die
no need to introduce
either in darkness or light
neither reversible

Dec 4, 2017

heavy windy day we parted
my cold got worse that night
kept dosing tablets for days
still missing you but relieved

forever apart was realised after
forever happened

lots of good things on earth
embarrass me such as
those blooms and blossoms
amongst the greens  
i cannot tell even one as
they were named
but call them flowers

when i said i am in a place far away
you were in the faraway place too
we turned around at the same time
could not see each other
nor each self

Mute the TV news
Truth might blink among flashes
Silent the noise on streets
Beauty might recover swiftly in expressions
A white cane knocking at crossroads
Traffic lights answering in green faces

Heavy storms all night
Morning news showing flood on streets
the other side of the world
Cars moving like boats got their luck

The earth is still soft
Hence ******* so fast

Aug 9, 2017

Green island, mirrorlike lake surface
Fish and bird a couple, gazing at each other in stillness

The bird could not believe it's nakedness
The fish feels uneasy at it's furry dress

A dragonfly touches the water lightly
Both fly, flee away in different directions

July 18, 2017

Flowers and trees of my homeland
are spreading along the rivers
I see her footprints everywhere, she has been searching for me
Walk side by side the stream behind my house as if I never have left
Never had she disappeared

My Mum didn't know much about Mother's Day
Me neither back then
But the small flowering plants knew,
blooming and blossoming all the time
in the backyard, to please Mum

This was told by little puppy
He  wasn't sure when I asked him to
live with my sister after Mum was gone
Leaving home was hard but he had to
My sister loves him and he is happy now
No longer irritable at me when I visit
but looking at me, wanted to tell me more
about Mum and those flowers

When I was hiding into her body
She was just a water drop of many
Living on a high-voltage power line
She was crumbling
I was laying a sleeping

A chirping of birds rushed in
Throwing us high by landing and winging again
We turned into micro pieces instantly
Renamed ourselves  cloud when moving
And fog when floating

After splitting myself into countless bodies
I started to see you from various angles clearly, and a lot of you
Only without seeing my selflessness

The heavily snowed day is
the oldest day of the year
The day annual rings mark, those scars
you see are enhanced interrogations
I had to take

The smallest inner circle is
my blessing to you, see it?
the double-sided pattern I carved
on your window timber. Be aware

one evening
a little breeze will enter
into your room through
your closed window
to blow the moonlight and
put out the last piece of
your softest sorrow

Roosters on roster,
words for goodwill associated.
Fortune tellers to alter
the fate of a deep fried miserable one
and make it again a flying creature.
That will eventually amaze
ordinary people like me if not a lot.

The monkey could have climbed higher
I am afraid rest of the roosters will crow
no matter whom the crocodile will bite next
with tears. This little prayer
goes to those victims lookalike
for swimming longer in the bigpond
of rumours for sake of
whatever.

Jan 30, 2017

Am I a writer or
It's just one of my fingers
Bleeding black?

you might say
science won, by inventing
a palm of screen that contains
the whole world and its history
mountains and rivers, men and women
kids and animals, right
each and every body and thing  

and they move in real time
my expectations are my being
i keep receiving all what the screen produces, a message
freezes my dying and
dies my freezing

zzz zzz zzz

my very last memory was
myself flashed into the screen
entering the reality of
world was one

Nov 25, 2016

we are gifted to breathe
in with tense, out with ease
but do we feel the pressure
when taking, and the relief
when giving?

hold your gift tight
as long as you can
until you have to give away
to live on
onto the hold
so long

Nov 21, 2016

When I see weaknesses
bind you
I want to talk to you
about love

When I see love
surround you
I want to tell you
about life

When I see life
abound in you
I want you to share
with many not a few

Dec 8, 2016

We are often late
But time never

I am looking for
the once familiar group hoping
to see myself
amongst them

Acrossing the street
I come to the bookstore knowing
there I can find them
I scan each bookcover
walking through each aisle as if
passing by every home

Every door is well decorated
with owner's name on it
I, must be hiding behind
one of the doors, the different doors
hiding from myself

I don't think I can finish this
until life finishes it for me
I stay late every night towards
a deadend, weakened enough
to collide with another day

Feel like catching something but
who cares about your poems?
I think of the same as I lie down
Forget it then, but I know they will stay up
until I come back in another day

Nov 23, 2016

For the first time in my whole life
I have seen a timepiece gaining hours overnight, scarily it's mine
Oh, my old piece of mind

I didn't really care when I was young and the world was slow
But now all things are running like hell
Carelessly clicking my life away,
you naughty piece. Your gain is my loss if you listen to what I am saying

My daughter is still young I need to stay
Please slow down if I have to fall off my way
I want things  harmonised and world in peace
Don't make fun of me, you little piece

I am writing a letter, got a lot to fix
I have to send it out before sunrise
When you knock like this my heartbeats follow
Slow down please, I can speak cheese

Gaining like this without feeling the pain
It turns out like a game over and over again
Round after round hand in hand
You keep gaining I become insane

I know you are working hard but got no idea where you learned this trick
Stop laughing and get me out of here
As you can see I am very sick
I am ordering you now, little piece
Time to put you beside the bin for free pick

Nov 14, 2016

the dribbles and drops you grab
are sob and sorrow now flow
tiny dusty world ever floats
not sure if i still need to grasp

I was worrying about you
when you said you were ready
The cracks you have made
The things we have never seen
Now that how many hearts are broken
How many of them are finally open

I was worrying about yours
Now I am worrying about mine
Between life and death an enlightenment
Your lyrics speak yet messages to set in

How far lives are apart
How near they have been
The crowd continues clamouring
No one answers a question

The day dims out now
The world comes to an end
I will no longer worry about you
Nor will I worry about mine

Nov 11, 2016

What
comes in form
to inform us
what formless is

How kind is that
assuming we would pay back
with an understanding

That formlessness is actually
His image that lives in us
a knowable conscious awareness of
His existence, we call it life

The journey of going away
formatted a heavy shell which
we carry as body and suffer from
its wearying that produces
a disappearance misspelled as death
which we are dealing with
all the time of our being

Oct 28, 2016

Since I came to meet you
in my maturer days
This land of plenty but
lacking of one word which
I have tried to pronounce
even broken into pieces
to compose a simple message
Yet not sure how much
you could have understood or
myself to comprehend

The day dawned and darkened
innocent eyes blinking in the air
I am still here, trampling
like a five year old kid

Oct 19, 2016

i see myself
thinning into a little book
lying in hands of a strange pair
the emptiness left on the shelf
filled full with my sorrow
like familiar eyes from the past

2015.10.14

Too late to complete
a dream-taking journey
before day dawns. Unfolding
rest of the night, I turn into
my roll of spring

Too old to wake up
in a late morning
until sunlight hurts. Stretching
rest of the day, I walk into
my role of ending

Too quiet to contain
a breath-holding cry
as soul tramples. Reaching out
to the darkness, I see myself
in my own tears

Sep 27, 2016

Bored performing fables
as we all came in flesh,
The very day things don't belong
lived with us, to this moment
Hence why we see flammable
yet often ambering bodies

Everywhere we go.
Every part of us they are gaining
against us, especially those invisible
eventually taking our lives,
waking us up by putting us into
our native invisiblenesses

September 8, 2016

If I say
We all judge and lie, as we are human
Or if you will,
We are all human, as we judge and lie
Did you see the difference?
Who cares? You said
Actually you admitted inside without being noticed
No, no need to look around now
It's too late

A false smile with or without
Surgical aid, called social
An all time annoying msg, called networking and even real time
No, no need to check now
It's too much

What is real then
High hills?
' I am very well, yourself?'
No one knows, which means everyone knows it

Tie and suit?
The luxury limousine takes you to your funeral?
Two beautifully made instruments carrying same somebody
One is vertical, another horizontal
You stand or lie?
No, no need to answer now
Lie, down
Under, stand

The flower may last forever
A vase can never be fake
A place like heaven reported suicide
I am broken twice
And I broke my language
My words come back in lines

I tell myself to run
As all things go wrong
I stand still all along
Everything else moves on and on

All writers are limited with words
Though not much meaning they need to carry
All what we've done is do
All what we didn't do was done

Lying in bed, I am floating
Running an obit non stopping
That's called eternal when you are fast enough
Just you may fall at any time

Aug 25, 2016

life
a part time job until
your time to part
what on earth
are you doing
now


Aug 17, 2016

The earth needed a punch
To move on
You came

The crowd needed a slap
To wake up
Your poetry slammed

The world needed peace
To live on
You fought

The music non-stopping
In and out the ring
Cos box echoes beyond

Jun 11, 2016

I recall the day I was adopted by
The world,  invisible like a sound
Out of original obit
Life generated when sand storm started
Some captured a will
On earth born a few

One eye discovers sin
Another deceives repentance
When I try to focus
It turns into a tiny thought
Emulsifies weather
Infuses temperature
Emerges everything

Jan 12, 2016

did not pick anything
the moment i walked out of this Japanese bookstore, by known means
picked up a monologue

a Chinese looking young man entertaining himself looking at the security guard,
'I could not read any Chinese ... '
gesturing in the air shaking his black backpack, off i went
wondering he might shrug

a sad thing, like an apple
napping with its pear buddies knowing nothing about its past life, the age
before genetical modifications

well presented at markets, feeling
fresh and cool like us on summer beaches until being picked by consumers

a price to pay before they leave, a fair one
unlike those tomatoes fluctuate their lives
simply because of good looking red faces
rarely grow up naturally

Mar 10, 2016 SYD

Searching for
The least of words
So far this is shaping the form
Meant to disappear when
Emptiness reveals

That is why poet is
Not a title but those
Who are called on this mission
Who knows when the thing turns up
Whichever never arrives

Mar 8, 2016

Hill by sound
Hell by spelling wrongly, on purpose
I guess I mean the fork not
But chopped sticks, a pair
Joining in the middle of a mist
Missed. Shaking in the wind
Blowing little mind, never
Say never

Grace by sight, I mean outside
Race by beats, and heart beats
Lace by age, I mean edge
Nice by curse, courtesy I mean
I mean

Fresh by smell
Flesh by far smells too
Hunt as once lost
Hard as once cheated
Hence one seized, sealed
See, old

Mar 3, 2016

if you see
  LOVE
  in GOD
you see
  GOLD