#worldwarii
Conquest.
Soldiers need release.
80 years ago, I,
young lady, Chinese,
would've been a slave—
thrusted deep in the front lines
rotting bodies, disease, and knives
inside me. I am
the evidence they must hide.
Lucky me. I watch Japanese TV
and music and teens. I love
Japanese novels and Japanese comics
and Japanese history. Lucky me,
two-thousand-twenty-five,
age fifteen, Chinese.
Mar 26, 2025
Mar 26, 2025 at 10:16 AM UTC
One daisy
Untouched by the carnage
Watching as a city burned
Unscathed by the bombs
The warchangers
Only 2 dropped
Only 2 needed
Their targets burned
And the flower just watched
As retaliation fell
And radiation rose
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 9:51 AM UTC
The Village was nearly swallowed by darkness,
Until I stumbled upon a fresh fluorescent light,
Emitting an eerie glow out of a subtle all-night diner.
Suddenly, eyeballs projected a noir-style movie.
This unique heaven lit a cemented pathway,
Which led toward nowhere but American desolation.
Exploration of blank stores was not an option;
A disconnected joint across the open street was obvious.
The cornered beacon called to me as if dreams lived,
Though the seamless wedge of glass deflected observation,
Onto the viewer I represented, isolated from the anonymous.
Lungs were not interested in Phillies, only graveyard shift.
The scene held four strangers shut in spacious congregation.
The figures filled in the white void with physical presence,
While each owl was remotely lost in their own thoughts.
Was it the tragedy that occurred at Pearl Harbor,
Possibly the hopelessness World War II offered?
Could it have been the disappearance of happy innocence in ’42?
Hopper alone can probably discover a whole to the loss of words.
Somehow the constructed simplicity was overwhelming:
When late night minds meet morosity yet still produces beauty.
Subjected into one, the loneliness of a large city can exist too.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC