Wednesday, February 10, 2021

Walking Down Lower Eastside








walking down Lower East Side

(02. 28. 2020.wenwenlin, edited 01.28.2021)

 

stand up comedy or sit down dinner

Bowery Street is the old kid in town.

toothless moon & foggy stars

nudge their heads from the cosmic dream stew,

 

and sprinkle light dust on the mural wall

where Banksy throws a flower bomb

and the young street comedian

tells the same joke for the tenth time.

 

a gypsy woman rubs her dusty crystal ball, and

through a blue light window along Tompkins Square Park,

she beckons a fated couple passing relentlessly by

a kaleidoscope rolls into the gutter, and no one notices...

 

in this devouring Alphabet City,

all the rainbow cats are hungry,

out chasing after the midnight Moonlight

circling Katz' tables;

 

Goto Bar is the bar to go to

break the dry January spell--

miso vodka and shiitaki martini, enough to tickle

the intrepid metrosexual barflies?

 

on Norfork street, a blue bird

fearlessly perches on the nose of

the once toppled Lenin's statue--

ciao for now, it twits, ciao for now, and flies away...

 

outside on the Ikebana shop steps off 2nd Ave,

a languid white chalk-faced Kabuki girl

patiently sits and waits for the return of her morning star  

not knowing yet her heart will be broken before dawn

 

as i am walking down Lower East Side (poetic license)

unto St. Marks Place

with the smell of whisky--

I've got a lot of Bukowski in me.


Monday, February 1, 2021

Wake Up








 

Wake Up

only darkness in its purest form has no shadow

02.01.2021.wenwenlin

 

"Wake up," I whispered gently as the first light particles gathered in the brisk pre-dawn air.  She had her back turned to me, silent.   I groped in the dark, fumbled through sheets and pillows.  I could tell she had been crying.  We've been through this a thousand times.  "let's get some fresh air and take a morning hike."  I spooned her feeble figure that was slowly taking form, and gave her a squeeze.  She stayed motionless, and that thwarted me.

I took her through the prodding mountain path, and her mood seemed to open up a bit.  She was almost happy and hopped in front and in the back of me as I turned around trying to chase her.  She loved the chase.  It was in her nature.

She grew stronger behind me now as the sun rose higher.  We came to ascend the precipitous hill, by this time, she was quite bubbly.   Optimism was in the air.   Maybe we already made up.   At the turn of the narrow highest point, I kneeled down, and gestured for her hand and her indulgence.  She looked up at me with flicker of light in her tearful eyes.  As her hand was reaching for mine, I stood up abruptly, and  pushed her off the cliff as hard as I could.  Her short choppy shape rolled and took 3 bounces on the way down against the protruding ridge rocks, and fell into the steep abyss below.  Down there, piles of bones and a deep loch behemoth of octopus resides.  Its tentacles dance seductively, in darkest shade of black clouds of its own creation, as the legend has it.

I turned around and walked back. 

I do not sleep and do not dream at night now. I merely hover.  

Saturday, January 23, 2021

Loving Work





 Loving Work

01.23.2021.wenwenlin
my way of loving this world
is to clean
the mirror.
the dust, the sweat, the reflections,
the stories and the blood stains--
i am merely a warm blooded vertebrate.
tell me, do you bleed also?
hopelessly, i cannot be taught
again, and again--
with the same life experience, and
about something i already knew--
knowing too much is
knowing nothing--
un-knitting the sweater!
though it keeps my blood warm
and my place in the world of
circumstances and hierarchy.
my job is to cooperate with the inevitable--
(if no one sees it,
did it happen?
does it matter?)
i will clean the mirror
until the mirror disappears...

Saturday, December 19, 2020

In the Name of Tao

 In The Name of Tao

12.18.2020.wenwenlin
who gives the sky permission to crumble?
who makes the levees break open?
who plants the intention
for an ocean to swallow the concrete jungle
inside our gradually congealed mind?
but this might be the best solution
for a burning city inside our head--
like the rose needs its thorns
in the name of Tao.






Friday, December 11, 2020

Haiku 5

 haiku 5:

12.11.2020.wenwenlin.

We arrive naked, depart naked
Who fills in the nothingness in the middle?
Life is a dream without dreamers.




Saturday, December 5, 2020

haiku 6:

 haiku 6: 

the wild geese stitching the sky

in gliding motion of infinite 8--

tails bites the beginning

looping you back home

haiku 4:

haiku 4: 

12.04.2020.wenwenlin.

our encounter--
trees shrouded in mountain clouds
nurtured by each other's vapor