Temperance rivals with yolo
Charity veils sinister corruption
Chastity cops technicality in the arse
Diligence finds no place in fast money
Humility runs a mile from self promotion
Patience means Amazon vs of Amazon Prime
Kindness shies away from publicised name and shame
Rain always brings me surprise
Autumn burns me with her splendid colours
No one comes into my life by chance
Devine appointment has its exact time and place
October 2010 you walked into me to escape the rain
Moments in life are never random
I am a steady builder
with a simple mind
So I think
if I take hold of the rudiment of love
I will just build on it note by note
until a love song is created
and sung in harmony
for the rest of our humble life
I realise I am confronted with a pattern
that will not flow in one accord
it is like a stream from the mountain top
descending with the landslide
I believe it will make it on its own
landing somewhere destined by Mother Earth
In the end
I will bawl my eyes out
a masterpiece which we are meant to create together
only you in the centre stage
surrounded by applause
without the sight of me
“He barely kept eye contact and rarely spoke to me when he hung out with us.
We hung out a lot and he was always there wearing his nerdy glasses and checkered shirt.
I found nerds attractive and terribly sexy in checkered shirts.
I thought he was hopelessly shy and sensitive like a bunny rabbit.
Call it a hunch, I knew he was in love with me.”
That’s what I’ve prepared for our wedding speech.
In 1982, there was no one sculpted nudes in China, not even under Deng Xiaoping’s economic reform of opening China to the outside world.
He, the Beethoven looking man created stacks of nude sculptures in his studio which was no more than a kiosk tucked away in the alley.
We walked past his studio after school and made fun of him wearing silk stockings and hairnet by pulling faces and giggling away.
Now in 2020, I am a lot more educated on celebrating individuality and have seen the world outside of red China.
We were little assholes of ignorant parents and grandparents.
I have forgiven myself and am proud of how far I have come from that six year old girl.
*Thank you Denise for putting out this weekly prompt. You may check out Denise’s blog GirlieOnTheEdge’s Blog
If we treat love affair like moulting
it is only natural that
we age a little
throw away a little
and grow a little
Raging anger burst your artery
Here we are
Living with the aftermath
my favourite childhood memory is
curling up to my great grandmother
listening to her sharing stories of her life
I got to know her nine brothers and their fate
one was an infant death
another died in a city bombing
two were sold as slaves
four were lost in war
one was too weak to go on
I met great grandfather from her smile
teenaged bride and young groom
he was handsome and dashing
a captain of the navy
served the Qing Emperor
died young at the sea
she was a widow at thirty-five
sent off the concubine with golds and silvers
escaped two wars with her two boys and a blind mother
she fed her family by serving in a colonial mansion
where she witnessed the good life of pet dogs
she wished her next life came back as a fluffy white puppy
when great grandmother reached retirement age
the cultural revolution broke out
she was sent to the Black Hill carrying mud for construction
and was sent home after contracting tuberculosis
when she was seventy years old
she ran a family day care
and home sewing business
I used to tell her I love her
when I grew up
I would travel to Spain
to make a good living
and I would send her 99 pesetas each month
so she would have a good life in old age
when I was a teenager
she rebuked my parents not letting me wear crop tops
she also told me not to marry a white man
because they have big penises
the last question she asked me was
“When are you coming home to see me?”
“When I save up enough money to buy a plane ticket.”
great grandmother passed when she was ninety-seven
she dropped like a ripened fruit from a tree
peaceful and fulfilled
I did not make it to her funeral
that remains to be my greatest regret
till this day
(My great grandmother Zhou Weiying 1904 – 2001)
Continents apart day after day, “When you come back, I’ll be here.” I remember you said.
I am standing here foolishly holding onto a distant promise soaked in the winter rain.
The bench is painted red.
Is it a sign for good luck or just man made passion to hide the worn-out memory?
We need to be sure there is nothing left to say, to explain, to retain.
Pain, I finally ready to let go.
It shivers out of my heart into the cold.