once again

I heard bang bang

bullets shooting out of an assault rifle

rip through innocent young bodies

setting off a series of wailing cries



once again

I heard clink clank of gold coins

dropping into the golden bowls

held by weapon manufacturers, NRA,

politicians and dealers

setting off a series of hearty chuckles

from hearing the word flying
to
thinking of flying
to
longing to fly
to
learning to fly
to
flapping her wings

she finally
soared high into the sky
amid the applause and cheers

that was when she realized
the immensity
of the universe

you wave your hand
without glancing back
walk towards the horizon
becoming a tiny dot
and disappear

with a heavy heart I turn around
yet find you right there

by my side

God said                                  Satan said
Let there be light                      Let there be shadows
and there was light             and there were shadows

God said                                  Satan said
Let there be mountains                      Let there be valleys
and there were mountains             and there were valleys

mountains of light                     valleys of shadows

God said                                   Satan said
Let there be humans                        Let there be beasts
and there were humans              and there were beasts

God said                                   Satan said
Let there be beasts                         Let there be humans
and there were beasts                    and there were humans

humanly beasts                             beastly humans

after thinking the matter over
the apple gracefully let itself
go

bang
it landed right on the head
of Mr. Newton
dozing under the tree

All hell breaks loose—
on this day
children wear hideous masks
to hide
their innocent faces

All hell breaks loose—
every day
adults wear innocent masks
to hide
their hideous faces

In order to shoot
an invading bird
they define an air space
with searchlights

In order to shoot
a fleeing compatriot
they ***** a paradise on earth
with tall walls

suffering from homesickness
he returns to his homeland
returning to his homeland
he suffers from homesickness

there’s nothing he can do about it
there’s nothing he can do about it

A bundle of bills
could buy
a flattering
smile
not long ago

Now
a bundle of bills
can buy
more than
one flattering
smile

It makes no difference
your lips kissing my lips
or my lips kissing yours

What is important
is that we still have something to say
to each other
and try to say it
well

nowadays
even lie detectors
lie

if you ladies don’t believe me
just try and ask the following question
Does this dress make me look fat?

At Arlington, someone
Unknown goes down

The thousands, the thousands
Who have gone down in faraway fields
But who won’t die in the heart—
How do we bury
The thousands

knowing
those who can’t go home tonight
will all stare at her
with sleepless eyes

she fancies herself up
plump
and brilliant

with its constant stirring
the long pendulum
of the grandfather clock
finally thickened the time
and hypnotized grandfather to sleep

then at zero hour
it started to beat the war drum
**** **** **** **** .....
on a sleepless young man's chest

We then drove to the greenhouse
to see if the Cross was in bloom
the Cross that was planted 2000 years ago
the Cross that was once watered
with blood

When the pipe ***** became the first one
to break down crying
we all picked up our coats and headed for the door
knowing it was another hopeless year

Only the stubborn caretaker refused to give up
he kept muttering something to himself
while sprinkling the air with water

drawing open the curtains
he pleasantly finds
in the bright sunshine
the maple he planted years ago
dressed in splendid green
still stands *****

the world is alive
and well

buzzing
in a sweltering
evening marsh
a swarm of mosquitoes
vexed and unsettled
waits
for a cool swoosh
from a toad

a heavy blow
the whole earth shook violently once again

isn't he suffering from Parkinson's disease?
how could he be back in the ring?

it was the dying man
throwing all his weight
at human conflict and social injustice

his last punch

with every step
the pretentious
new shoes
jeer
at the memory
of
the old

with every step
the pretentious
new shoes
jeer
at the memory
of
the old

all old resolutions
fall with the crystal ball
during the Times Square countdown
----5--4--3--2--1--
0

YES

0
the best number
to start the new year

a shiny newborn balloon
pure and innocent
rises with joy amid magnificent fireworks
carrying no new prejudices
or old hatred

now that autumn is here
it's hard to avoid
biting insects and pecking birds

but he finds it impossible to moan
no sooner has a wound opened up
than it's filled with sweet juice

unmasked
big eyes
of glass windows

staring
at a sea
of emptiness

a broken refugee boat appears
like a ghost
on the tired sleepless eyelids
jolting and rolling
toward the ever-narrowing harbor
of humanity
toward the shore
where lights die out
one after another

no sooner had the pond
become sparklingly clean
after an afternoon of sweeping  
by the bending willows

than quack quack
came a flock of swaggering ducks
on their muddy feet

snow falls quietly

I don't expect
any birds
in such weather

but there's the shadow of a bird
flashing by
pulling my sight
to a familiar
yet strange field afar
where
birds are singing
and clamoring
in the celebration  
of a long-awaited
new birth

snow
falls quietly
outside my window

pin you down like a butterfly
on a sheet of paper
with the tip of the pen
of reality

see if you can still smile
Mona Lisa

scissors! rock! paper!

seeing his right hand
can now play games
against his own left hand
and his two eyes
without any tutoring
can wink at each other

this homebound pupil
in the depths of loneliness
ecstatically opens his mouth wide
and sings loudly
a triumphant song
to himself

The shutter flashes
your instant smile

In a mildewed evening years later
you stare at the yellowed album
and sigh

Happy days are gone

After frittering away the remaining afternoon
I walk up to the window many times
to see if the sky holds any last surprise

As it hangs over my neighbor’s roof
the sun seems almost
immortal.  Picasso died this morning
I wonder what tunes the three musicians
are going to play
which way the dove
is going to fly

Having shown us the world is still
soft and kneadable
the master hands are now withdrawing
I reach out unconsciously
but realizing how childish it must be
I turn my grasping hands to clapping

she became dizzy as her head swirled
with the yellow pills on her sweaty palm
and could not decide
whether to swallow them
or be swallowed by them

in fact she wondered if they were
the pills prescribed by her unfeeling doctor
or, in her desperation, the stars she grasped
from the sky last night

last night she kept telling her doctor
what she needed was love
not pills
but he just stood there with a cunning smile
take these, he said, you’ll feel better
in the morning

in the morning the room grew even darker
and more empty, she could hear
echoes of her own heartbeats
or, were they heartbeats of the room
banging her head with all its walls

scattering in the night sky
the yellow pills swirled
faster and faster
like shooting stars

Upon opening the book
words lead the way
sentences follow
All disappear in a flash

Only the best-selling title
and the hot name
of the author
remain
What a great book

here
everything seems so natural
so straightforward
as if there were no oppression
bending or twisting
in this world

innocent hands
all joyously stretching
to reach the sky

before the mirror
I gnashed my teeth and stuck out
my tongue at the shadow
the shadow gnashed its teeth
and stuck out its tongue at me

on the busy street
I glared at a passerby
who stepped on my foot
instantly he glared back

on a quiet night
I blinked at the stars
and the stars blinked at me

on the dewy field
I nodded my head slightly
at a little blue flower
the little blue flower  
nodded back

getting up early this morning
with a pleasant mood
I whistled at a little bird outside my window
the little bird happily whistled back

at this moment I am thinking
of the unknown little girl
in my sweet dream last night
I can’t seem to recall
who was the first to smile
she or I

no room for doubt
God makes ears
just for listening
to this hot argument
about life

seventeen years of desolate incubation in the dark earth
a few days of endless joy under the sun and the stars

lonely lonely lonely
joy joy joy

lonely joy lonely joy
lonely

joy.....................

seeing the industrious, restless robots
take away their jobs
smart human beings
finally come up with a smart plan

working from 9 to 9
including Saturdays
(this is only a beginning)

see who is more robotic

off the view
a tree stands in mute amazement
watching beside him
another group of tourists
devour the scenery
with flashy teeth

is this me?
i asked

this is me
you answered

it never favors one over the other
regardless of skin colors --
white, yellow, brown or black
  
not even the most discriminating eye
can find any bone
to pick with

noticing the sky has raised its eyebrows
and darkened its face
the shadows stop
their singing and dancing
and vanish
without a trace

leaving the dark ***** business
to poets and fools
to explore
and expose

Sharing an umbrella
I suddenly realize the difference between us

Yet bending over to kiss you
gives me such joy
as you try to meet me halfway
on tiptoe

feverishly feeding oily coins
into the hungry mouths
of the slot machines

a cook from Chinatown
blinded by the splendor of the casino
has mistaken them
for the children he left behind
in the old country
where they refuse
to grow up

sometimes
the smart
are dumber than
dumb

dare not utter
even a simple
"I"

overnight
it painted the earth
whiter than the white wall

let everything start over again
let the first big-letter poster
be simple and unambiguous
each stroke exact and deliberate
a single word –
MAN

SONG OF A RAINDROP

the closer to the ground
the faster my heart beats
life has barely begun
it now has to end

even if the wind suddenly changes
or there comes a hurricane
I am sure I won't be blown far

no glow of fire
no howling
no ground-shaking explosions
the world
with a tearful eye
watches me
descend

Vastness belongs to the oceans
emptiness, the sky
chill, the bones
hunger, the stomach

and the bodies
stretched out or bent
face up or face down
belong to the streets

Many would take it
as the midway station to heaven
nineteen hundred miles up
can heaven be far away?

Some would even think
that sixty three million years
is eternal enough
especially for those hopeless potbellied souls
knowing that it’s impossible for them to pass through
the tiny eye of a needle
here, God is not
the Final Judge

Of course there are details to be worked out
for instance, should there be racial segregation
like that in the old South Africa
so as to preserve the purity of the ashes?
Or, as long as they can afford to pay
should even dogs and cats be allowed?


* Many years ago a Houston space service company had a plan to send human ashes into space.  According to the plan, ten thousand human remains would orbit the earth at a distance of nineteen hundred miles for a minimum of sixty-three million years.

standing by the window
an emaciated vase
is singing a sentimental ballad
while tearing down
from its heart
petal by petal
the withered
love

competing with the sunny world for glory
you prop up a flowery umbrella
a little sky of your own

then you turn your head around
and with a sweet smile
scorch a pair of eyes
hidden behind
a sunglasses

outside is cold
while the tears rising
from the bottom of his heart
are boiling hot

so the softhearted man
keeps them rolling and rolling
inside his eye sockets