Have I always lusted for the past?
Always longed to walk down Rouen
Avec une baguette in tow.
Always wished my present moment
Were coloured and blushed
With the pigment of nostalgic memory
Glossed with centuries-old ink.
Do the shards of heartbreak fester like a quill
Or does the spirit heal over them?
Dissolving like glass into glass.
Until the vase's cracks have reached perfection.
Stained windows, glowing in the moonlight.
A great intelligence, cursed by a speck of sadness.
i look across this life
under the glowing memory
of days gone by
hanging like a setting horizon upon
an endless turning sea,
a kite string
slightly slipping ajar
gone in the wind unto
an endless burning sky,
orange-crimson nylon dye
like smoke rings
in the breeze,
hanging like sacred smudge
auspicious tiny swirls
hang on the frayed ends of my clothes, little hooks
pictures of a special uncle
soft white coals of
i thirst for the connection of language
that thing you so easily conceal
until a few drinks down
and you no longer care
"ngo-di hai loong jai"
we are bound by the same
name same shame same
hate, same insolence same (innocence)..
that the appearance and cadence
is what we strive for
but can never amount to
i wish i could speak like you
i wish my tongue had your wings
i wish i could touch the sky with an aerosol can
painting words like i've never known
f r e e d o m
j u s t i c e
l o v e
l i b e r a t i o n
reach into that bag of words
a trick or two.
a greeting. a phrase. an idea.
but until then,
i'll surround myself with police-action movies,
mandarin love songs..
and recreate what my family
could not give me.