週四 12月 01, 2005 3:53 pm
[Cancer]
---if the growing cells gone crazy are nothing but you in me, if having a cancer can become a love story
#1
Only a few clues or smells
Or starry nights
Left with me
Greetings luxurious
Memories lumpy
Words of your history
My missing map
I could not research
could not travel
not detect
A direction terribly needed
What magnetic flight
What mystery mystery
In feathers disguised?
When I asked
With low low blushing eyes:
Where have you been?
I was too afraid to see
Already lying in front of me
A loose quill of the lost map
Trembling in no order
My odor in the wind
#2
Thus combing the long long lock, i combed
the raisin raisin thought, i yawned
the deep deep dark, i slept
the thin thin layer, forgot
the ‘how long’ question would not be responded
my quiet sorrow, anchored
my nocturnal heart, skinned
my long long lock
#3
Grew they
cells of cruelty
founts of your pen
lutes of yesterday
paintings of my lonely bed
i was not dead yet
just hiding in between mouse and cat
finding no way to back
here a chinese great wall
there disney lands
weep or laugh?
procrastinations filled up the world
outside of map
my only boat to wait
#4
Expanding like an awakening town
rolling like leaves in lottery of migration
agitating like secret plans in the hearts of grass
the emerald after all hospitalized me
veining my brain
rooting your imagery
but how could i leave the night
at the park
underneath an oak tree
so big
so shadowy
in the unsure arms desired
how tight you hugged me
after pants silenced
hope the grass talked like a bee
such an impossible history
poor love was emerging
with pills of dream
left town quietly
the town yet awoke like proliferating cells
of that night
all so of that night
a cell of uncertainty
#5
And so must be insisted
it is a love story
the tender tenderness and the patient patience
too crazy to be normal
too gay to be sick
cause you stopped my hasty feet in the middle
and my wondering mind shut down the chemo
like a matured fruit of the sweetest
the serenity of the undiscovered brook and hill
lingering on in your solitary afternoon mourning
the most floating yet stable
exquisite the yoke!
#6
I was sleeping beside sherlock holmes
in his green old covers and yellow leaves
with the spine prints half asleep
yes, please go ahead to sleep
dear holmes
no need to apply your talent on me
i am just a foreign girl wishing to drowse
at a corner of rest came a dream
in the center of dream arouse my criminal deed
the missing map of my body is a lover’s quest
for murdering my love’s monday evening
busy every minute and every second in my ears
filing every of his nail between my breasts
looting his anxious sighs by pillows
crashing the silence he gave to coffee heath bar crunch
sweetie
i plotted well most certainly and was afraid of no defeat
and i’d even written a dissertation on detective stories!
holmes home quickly
i dare say
you could do nothing but fall asleep
#7
You grew crazily in me
passion had warmed this oven up for you
or not?
or yielded to you my switch?
whenever love was hinted right next to me
my heart stopped beating
a neighbor said waiting in true love
is waiting through not any longer
every minute every day
and thus wait
i could not figure out
whether
I was listening to her
or not
or was that a phantas-
magoric break
between days
in searching for
my beating hours
sneaking away
with shimmering
flowers
never exhausted
in van gogh
i waded through
knowing
or not knowing
whether
i still owned
my heart
or not
just counting
blood drops
in the up-side-
down bag
visioning your
coming to say
hi
one thing
so clear
in mind
a lobotomy
replaces
no waxing
tie
certain cells
cruising for
my losing
ears and
disappe-
aring
eyes
ah!
my
grow-
ing
tie
#8
I was burning one night
beginning to feel the legendary confrontation
with the dodging figures of wells with eyes
with the wandering ghosts behind storms
with the jumpy cartoons on boys’ heads
with the chromic blue at fishes’ sides
perishing signs
perishing sighs
i once supported your hands
your hands covered my eyes in the dark
the dark felt me weakening in whites
whites ended nothing but everything
everything
was that really you burning me at night?
#9
That was no medicine of infatuation
species of procreation
inside a cold factory of declination
a teachering mouth invading a vacationing cheek
the deaf and mute and color blind
it yet is about the dead and alive
my only lonely one autumn night
standing no snow in moonlight
#10
Of course I bereted
for what you’ve taken away with you
erasing my sight of a half June
reducing my sense of feet
will I loom?
my tongue spoke in purple lung
summer had gone
had long gone
#11
You floated like winds and clouds and clouds
a blow
a crowd
a crowd
as soon as I wiped away your sweats
you flew into my sun and stars and stars
* * *
not a minute to use on you
i had to learn to set free of your fins
perhaps
shall your home be built
that set my time of cue
checking out
* * *
ah! waiting was not my choice
yearning for the honey of another May
my doctor
my doc
my duck
#12
whose hands gripped forever
which day started always anew
no longer loitering in this corner of the world
happened to live for a moment
with you
the wined throat from my every life
although humming a dying lullaby
you
what were you looking for?
---if the growing cells gone crazy are nothing but you in me, if having a cancer can become a love story
#1
Only a few clues or smells
Or starry nights
Left with me
Greetings luxurious
Memories lumpy
Words of your history
My missing map
I could not research
could not travel
not detect
A direction terribly needed
What magnetic flight
What mystery mystery
In feathers disguised?
When I asked
With low low blushing eyes:
Where have you been?
I was too afraid to see
Already lying in front of me
A loose quill of the lost map
Trembling in no order
My odor in the wind
#2
Thus combing the long long lock, i combed
the raisin raisin thought, i yawned
the deep deep dark, i slept
the thin thin layer, forgot
the ‘how long’ question would not be responded
my quiet sorrow, anchored
my nocturnal heart, skinned
my long long lock
#3
Grew they
cells of cruelty
founts of your pen
lutes of yesterday
paintings of my lonely bed
i was not dead yet
just hiding in between mouse and cat
finding no way to back
here a chinese great wall
there disney lands
weep or laugh?
procrastinations filled up the world
outside of map
my only boat to wait
#4
Expanding like an awakening town
rolling like leaves in lottery of migration
agitating like secret plans in the hearts of grass
the emerald after all hospitalized me
veining my brain
rooting your imagery
but how could i leave the night
at the park
underneath an oak tree
so big
so shadowy
in the unsure arms desired
how tight you hugged me
after pants silenced
hope the grass talked like a bee
such an impossible history
poor love was emerging
with pills of dream
left town quietly
the town yet awoke like proliferating cells
of that night
all so of that night
a cell of uncertainty
#5
And so must be insisted
it is a love story
the tender tenderness and the patient patience
too crazy to be normal
too gay to be sick
cause you stopped my hasty feet in the middle
and my wondering mind shut down the chemo
like a matured fruit of the sweetest
the serenity of the undiscovered brook and hill
lingering on in your solitary afternoon mourning
the most floating yet stable
exquisite the yoke!
#6
I was sleeping beside sherlock holmes
in his green old covers and yellow leaves
with the spine prints half asleep
yes, please go ahead to sleep
dear holmes
no need to apply your talent on me
i am just a foreign girl wishing to drowse
at a corner of rest came a dream
in the center of dream arouse my criminal deed
the missing map of my body is a lover’s quest
for murdering my love’s monday evening
busy every minute and every second in my ears
filing every of his nail between my breasts
looting his anxious sighs by pillows
crashing the silence he gave to coffee heath bar crunch
sweetie
i plotted well most certainly and was afraid of no defeat
and i’d even written a dissertation on detective stories!
holmes home quickly
i dare say
you could do nothing but fall asleep
#7
You grew crazily in me
passion had warmed this oven up for you
or not?
or yielded to you my switch?
whenever love was hinted right next to me
my heart stopped beating
a neighbor said waiting in true love
is waiting through not any longer
every minute every day
and thus wait
i could not figure out
whether
I was listening to her
or not
or was that a phantas-
magoric break
between days
in searching for
my beating hours
sneaking away
with shimmering
flowers
never exhausted
in van gogh
i waded through
knowing
or not knowing
whether
i still owned
my heart
or not
just counting
blood drops
in the up-side-
down bag
visioning your
coming to say
hi
one thing
so clear
in mind
a lobotomy
replaces
no waxing
tie
certain cells
cruising for
my losing
ears and
disappe-
aring
eyes
ah!
my
grow-
ing
tie
#8
I was burning one night
beginning to feel the legendary confrontation
with the dodging figures of wells with eyes
with the wandering ghosts behind storms
with the jumpy cartoons on boys’ heads
with the chromic blue at fishes’ sides
perishing signs
perishing sighs
i once supported your hands
your hands covered my eyes in the dark
the dark felt me weakening in whites
whites ended nothing but everything
everything
was that really you burning me at night?
#9
That was no medicine of infatuation
species of procreation
inside a cold factory of declination
a teachering mouth invading a vacationing cheek
the deaf and mute and color blind
it yet is about the dead and alive
my only lonely one autumn night
standing no snow in moonlight
#10
Of course I bereted
for what you’ve taken away with you
erasing my sight of a half June
reducing my sense of feet
will I loom?
my tongue spoke in purple lung
summer had gone
had long gone
#11
You floated like winds and clouds and clouds
a blow
a crowd
a crowd
as soon as I wiped away your sweats
you flew into my sun and stars and stars
* * *
not a minute to use on you
i had to learn to set free of your fins
perhaps
shall your home be built
that set my time of cue
checking out
* * *
ah! waiting was not my choice
yearning for the honey of another May
my doctor
my doc
my duck
#12
whose hands gripped forever
which day started always anew
no longer loitering in this corner of the world
happened to live for a moment
with you
the wined throat from my every life
although humming a dying lullaby
you
what were you looking for?
