Drift
Internet spins societal nerves
Where dark strokes on vacant sheets
They blend into rhythms, pulse on pulse
In a small room, instruments are set
At varied heights, a poised array…
As stage light kindles, door swings wide,
And they are swept, astonished, by the rush of streams
Like earth leveled where bulldozers have passed
Leaving no space for mistakes
In that swift and sweeping tide
Sound becomes music, fluid and bright
And when it flows into mind,
Carries surface emotive flecks,
Restlessness, serenity,
A fierce joy, a slow sorrow.
Emotions are not taken away, but are repeated
Forming a massive crazy storm
Whirling round a homogeneous core
Till sound—which never was a vessel—
Wears a soft, gray tint
Like a white shirt washed so many times
Fading to an ambiguous quiet gray
Until the day it’s worn again
Click a song, half-unaware
Music floods the silent air
And with it drifts a feeling tinge
Faint, yet familiar
And by the brain’s own grace
We’re given back a taste of the past
With Heaven-bright joy, or heart-breaking grief
Music lifts the soul awhile
Out of the real, the “here” and the “now”
To sip from seasons long since passed.
I feel helpless, small,
At time’s heavy flow
And yet, a quickening:
It’s time to journey on.
Humans love to listen to old tracks
On the road towards home
And stop when they arrive
Wander many worlds at once
Then choose, at last, to breathe in deep
This era’s air
Mar 4, 2024
Flawless
Bewildered white
Like a lucid dream
Mistily descending from above
Leaving only four eyes meeting
Your gaze
Is the daze after wine
A palace of serenity
The silence of ten thousand forests gathered
The pure holiness of sea foam
I just silently sink into,
As if falling into a pure white dream
Regret, for that rule-breaking bent line
Wild laughter, a toast to a life that doesn’t fit in
Oh, but no
When ten thousand edges ahead
Still, there would be a bit of wind
Stirring and sweeping
Gently embrace you
That anxious soul
Soft lips like feathers
Seek a longing for hope
Seek a regaining of peace in heart
Under tiny stones, ripples bloom
How I wish to hold your small hands
In the chaos you can’t yet understand
Stay with you
Be a small island, you can always reach
No need to know too much
So there’s no need to let go.
Love the romance of the night
Quietly, it sweeps away the chaos of the day
Grown used to race aimlessly at night
As if to prove to it
The youthful vigor it rarely gets cherished for
Chassis is gradually wrapped
By faint, drifting, weightless mist
Everything seems to blur
Carrying a hint of hidden sweetness
Time is a lie woven by humankind
Trying to blend all that slipped by—dark and light
Onto the rawest canvas
With strokes as natural as breathing
Dotting the brightest stars beneath the night
Hush
Please keep this secret
It’s just between me and the night
The city is awakening
while I will soon fall asleep
So, darkness too
Is simply a lie we share
2024.05.19
Because I trace back to another system of time, things unfolded in front of me follow my mind.
At this moment, it is also daylight.
My flight got rescheduled to seven in the morning. After fussing about all night, I sat in a taxi, exhausted, and wrote these lines out of feeling.
在众多平庸的衬托下
它异变的额外叶片显得尤为圣洁
因此我们赋予它幸运的箴言
但当它的根茎脱离泥土
也变得和一同摘下的三叶草一般
软化 枯萎 丧失生气
我很后悔认识你，幸运草
因为在我的瞥见中形成了你的存在
于是四叶草的消逝便开始了
本着草本植物的贞洁与脆弱性
为何稀缺约同于幸运
而普遍被看作廉价而不值一提
四叶草已彻底死去
我却无法给予它最盛大的葬礼
归于尘土中 烂漫的尸体
幸运可能在盈盈一握的远方
那如果说 三叶才是幸运草呢
会造就更多惨案还是幸福
意识的神经元总是如此强大
2024.12.19
看着鲜活的四叶草在我手中死去，为它感到悲伤。有时候幸运只是一种远方的感觉，或者说，不人为定义的都是幸运。