Reverie
I, we, or humankind
Perhaps a fleeting form of contradiction
Touch the blazing sun
And recall years of cold, biting wind
Wish for gloomy, indifferent rains
Wash the mottled window
Car in jungle, speeding
In barren, fading light
Or in the thick of viscous dark
Crave again that hazy glow
Hope it’s not too dazzling
Yet bright enough to be hope
Light and shadow entwine
Under naked eyes
In the wild, one always starts to run
Hope just as they fall upon green
Time can pause for a quarter-hour
Then grand orchestral music swells
Feet planted on the origin point
Dream the earth revolves around
Roll distant sceneries by
Dissolve into particle waves
Stand still within the surge
Fragile yet tenacious nerves
Always pulled into contradictory forms
We always tame restless factors
Trying, with illusions of calm
To pacify organic molecules under skin
Yet whether asleep or awake
Will discover this contradiction’s origin
No superpowers, yet wish to wield a spell.
Aug 1, 2024
While being penetrated by sunlight, I long for getting soaked by rain; in quiet time, I want to headlong fall into self-rotating earth—a kind of contradictory pulling feeling.
None
Life seems like a fantasy journey
Winding round and round
In an instant to the other shore
Then, just as swiftly, back to silence
Like a pendulum swaying back and forth
Pass the origin ten thousand times
As if only in fleeting dreams
Can we catch a glimpse
In traversing layered time and space
Utterly unfamiliar realities
Completely different
Piecing together a complete black
Yet black is but a name for nothingness
A translucent, elusive touch
I feel myself about to wither
Yet at once, reborn
Past and future collide in the present
Then rewrite
While the present, too, turns to dust in that very breath
Fate evaporates, following the freedom of wind
Ought to be confident or despondent?
Ought to be extraordinary or mediocre?
Breath represents definition of survival
Then, does the heartbeat
Verify the ancient faith we carry?
Nowhere to be found
June 23, 2024
When an ordinary magpie met impermanence
Recklessly crashed into sudden rising flames
Scorching heat seared its wings
Scattering feathers across the ground
Driven by the will to survive
Struggled fiercely to escape
Wings turned fiery red
Glowing with scattered sparks
Magpie became a phoenix
Shedding its ashen guise
Other birds shocked by transformation
Hastened to ask about the feathers’ whereabouts
It said, it had carefully saved them
In mathematicians’ crisscrossing geometries
Beneath a massive, ancient rock
In a tangled, messy nest
Along a rushing, surging stream
Between lines of Greek philosophers’ aphorisms
The magpie buried its feathers
Or more precisely, built memorials
Yet it never knew
Those fallen black plumes
Belonged to another
One that failed to break free,
Turned to ash, and vanished
Where have the magpie’s feathers gone?
Looking closely then, and see
That fiery red
Is grafted upon the gray
Magpie remains a magpie, yet also a phoenix
It never truly changed
But now it carries the world within
September 24, 2023
When we wish to commemorate the past, we would find it has already become part of us.
世界的尽头
在现在
或者在未来
多重生物攀附着
夹杂着向上
诡异的逻辑圈
与显而易见却悲伤的食物链
人可以发着光
可以乘着永恒的小船
驶向怪诞而破败的远方
那么世界的尽头是什么
破碎感是否会叠加岁月
还是万物归家
便剩山川河流
肆意的闪星
生物仍存在
但少了攀比与难堪
世界的尽头是和谐与交融
如果
世界的尽头只是内心呢
2023.06.03
参加苏州本色艺术馆画展有感