Changan poems on Hello Poetry

CJ Sutherland Aug 6

Media mogul critics
Die hard, cynics

Are all capricious by designs
Don’t step on their land minds

Factitious information
Bait and switch tactics creation

If they say it’s not
It’s what you’re got

Rhetoric and hyperbole
Don’t believe what lying eyes see

Regurgitate Same talking stance
News determine in advance

They want useful idiots. It’s a shame.
While choosing someone else to blame

All the while with a smile
The song remains the same

Song inspired
1) Signs by The five electrical band
2) these times are a Changan’ by Bob Dylan
3) The song remains the same Led Zeppelin
( Robert Plant believe Music is universal 1973, every time I sing this song, I just picture, I’ve been around the world, and at the root of it all, there’s one common denominator.)

FYI song remains the same has a very long intro but there are lyrics it’s worth the wait

BLT Webster’s Word of the Day challenge
Capricious8-5-24
Lacking firmness, or steadiness, as in purpose or devotion. Suggest motivation by sudden whim, fancy and unpredictability. Fickle, and constant, volatile.

Annie Jan 20

Between Us

A letter came
before I left for Alishan
crumpled in one corner.
The imprint of your left hand.

Last year, autumn came early
thick with butterflies.
You liked to watch the swirl of leaves
as I swept the stoop.

The moss is embossed with footsteps
preserved by my slippers.
I hear your voice in the city
but it’s only the city.

In ’16, you showed me a letter
with pristine corners. The lace writing
called you to a land of floods and gorges
Here, the soil is pale.

Summer of ’15, asking myself questions
Why do I hold the pillar in a storm -
why do I climb the lookout?
I wanted our dust and ashes to be mingled forever.

It frightened me. In ’14, wed in Changan
we lost our names to each other.
Your voice, laced with warmth,
I dipped my head as if there were fences.

Remember how you rounded the bench
splattering plums like nothing
as I picked the naïve flowers
through eyes still curtained with bangs?

— The End —