I Created Happiness

How a stay-at-home-mom come to realize, that she has everything, despite the fact, that she wasn’t bringing in the pay, translated…

The most intense time for me of the entire day is in the evenings, as I’m cooking supper. Washing, chopping, preparing, cooking, I’d worked, endlessly, between the sink and the stove, and the rumblings of the range hood, along with the screams from my hungry children, it usually cause me to lose my emotional control so many times.

On this particular day, I was, working hard in the kitchens, and, from the living room came, my children’s arguing getting louder and louder by the second, as I was about to lose it, and go into the living room, and give my kids a piece of my mind, my eldest son marched into the kitchen and told me, “Mom, all my classmates envied me so.” “Why is that?”, I’d asked, “Because every day after school, they would head over to the afterschool care programs, and their parents would come very late to pick them up; they’d needed to eat their suppers at the afterschool care programs, and, when they’d not done well enough on their exams, they would get punished by the instructors at the afterschool programs, as they’d heard that I can come straight home after class, they’re so very envious of me.” Then, in a whiny voice, he’d told me, “I feel I’m truly blessed, thanks, mom.”

a housewife…not my painting…

Since my children were born, id’ started working as a full-time mom, then, there were, three of them one right after the other, and, I’d gone from a fearful first-time mother, to being able to handle everything that my kids throw at me, and, looking back, the best times of my life was spent, between the bottles and the diapers.

There was once a friend, who’d taken a look at my hands, and commented, “That’s a man’s hands, just look at how the veins popped up, it doesn’t look like a woman’s hands.”, and, my bulging biceps meant the loss of my younger years, plus my physical wellbeing deteriorating, combined, with my lack of self-fulfillment, sometimes, I’d doubted, did I make the right decisions, from when I first became a mother?

Looking back over this road to caring for my young, there’s, a mixture of tastes, and, all the trials that came with it, had erased how I used to enjoy all of this process; and my son’s “I’m truly blessed”, became like a wakeup call to me, not only did it soothed my heart, it’d also recalled my thoughts from the very start—did I not, want to extend the care and concerns shown to me by my own mother to my own young? And now, the seeds I’d planted had, bore the fruits, and, I’d come to realize, that I’d, created, my own happiness.

See how much the stay-at-home moms juggle from day to day?  Not my diagram…

Sometimes, we just, need that reminder, to make ourselves see just how lucky we actually are, especially when you’re a stay-at-home mom, having given up your pays, and, sometimes, you may feel useless, but ladies, you are the ones, who are, contributing to your families more than you will ever know, so, give yourselves MORE credit!!!

The Wall, a Poem

Translated…

With that Sign that I’m Losing to Midlife

I’d, Cleaned Off All the Remaining Bad Thoughts with the Soap Suds in the Early Mornings

Waking Up Out of a Dream, I’d Become, Old and Ill Now

Felt as if I’d Used My Teeth for Ages, My Jaws Felt, So Sore

There Seemed to be Sounds from that Hourglass in the Distance

With the Repeating Tempos of Self-Indulgence

not my sketch…

After a While, It’d Reminded Us of

How the Desert is a Fluid Old String Instrument

And, Marching Onward, Pulling the Strings Tight, Just

Marching, Marching Forward

All of a Sudden, I’d, Arrived to the Afternoon

The Sketch Artist Who Chased After the Blurred Faces of the Mass Public

In a Relaxing Polymerization

not my photo…

Becoming, the Endless Number of Teeth of Those Ancient Beasts

And, of Them All, Countless Had, Fallen, into the Midst

I’d Still Loved the Architectures So, and Not Become

Stingy to Entice All My Fellow Traveling Companions to Live with

Until My Tiresome Life Becomes the Stagnant

Like Those That Can’t Rest

Those Tired Feathers

Of the Hunting Winds

So, there’s a lot of imageries in this one, the poet paints a picture of lives that are intertwined and lives that are too tangled up, and the lives which are so tangled up together, has the desires of separating from one another, but can’t seem to find a way to, and that, would be what it feels like when we live from day to day, like there’s this tall, tall wall before us, that we can’t get across…

A Flipflop

拖鞋。 蔡富澧/攝影photo from the papers…

Something found on a beach, translated…

What’s happened in the world

The shells are, taking over this flipflop

And, who’s going to return

All the moments the slipper walked through

The happiness, the sorrows, and everything else that’s in between?

So, this, can be from this abandoned flipflop that’s now, become a home to the creatures by the sea, and, it’s a wonder, WHY someone would abandon just one of these flipflops, as they usually go together in pairs…

Persecuted by His Lies

You were, persecuted by his lies, and, his lies made you sound like the worst person in the world, because that, is how he gained, control over you, and you only felt upset, because you were, persecuted by his lies.

tied up and bound, that, is how his les worked, not my photograph…

His lies sounded, so true, so righteous, don’t they? But, they’re not, so, hold your grounds, never back down, and don’t be misled, into believing, that everything he did, was for the sake of the two of your lives together, because he only has his own benefits in mind!

Persecuted by his lies, you wish that you can, find a one-time cure, but, you can’t, because each and every time he’d wronged you, all he had to do, was to, whisper those sweet nothings into your ears, buying you presents, flowers, jewelries, then, you’d, be his forever. There’s just, no way you’ll ever get out, from this vicious cycle of him, lying to you, you, feeling persecuted by his lies, and, him, giving you presents and what-nots, and you, forgiving him, all over again…

not my photo here…

Persecuted by his lies, I never will be again, because, nothing he can ever say, can ever get to me, I’d, become, DEAF already, and, all I will ever see, are those lips moving, but, all I can make out, are those two lips of his, making the “blah-blah-blah” apertures.

The BIG FREEZE…

First, your skin will feel, that sharp drop in the temperature, and, you’ll feel, that icicle, growing from the drips of your noses…

This BIG FREEZE is here, but, it’s still, sunny and warm outside, how’s that even possible? So, you’d, looked at your selves, checked, to see, if you’re experiencing it all right. Nope, no fever, your forehead’s normal, so, what’s happening here???

the world is, completely, FROZEN S-T-I-F-F here, not my picture…

As you’d walked home tonight, you’d felt, that chill in the atmosphere, you looked up toward the skies, nope, snow ain’t fallin’, not yet, at least, so, you’d, shrugged it off, and, walked faster toward home.

The moment you’d entered into the house, there’s, this, scary scent of something that you can’t quite wrap your fingers around. You’d entered into the living room, light’s turned off, that’s odd, ‘cuz it’s usually, turned on when you get home…

You’d, hollered out her name, and say, “Honey, I’m H-O-M-E!!!”, and what greeted you was not her usual, “oh!”, but instead, it’s, the DEAD silence! Then, you’d, felt that chill getting colder, as it, shivers, down your spine.

“goodbye, love!”  Not my picture…

And that, is what’s leading up, to the BIG FREEZE, and, you will realize, that she’s, gone for good, without even, a Dear John (and yeah, she KNOWS that you’re NOT “John”!), just this, darkened house, without ANY warmth in it!

And that, would be, the BIG FREEZE, but, that’s not all, because the next thing you know, you’re, dragged to court, with her, opposite of you, with her attorney, and, you’re just, going through the motions, not really quite “there”…………

 

Weaning Myself Off of Your Lies…

This, is what I’m working on right now, but, it’s, a very difficult process, as, I’d still recalled just how wonderful, those sweetened lies of yours tasted on my tongue, but, they’re, poisons that will, debilitate me completely, paralyze me from the inside out! So, I’ve, got to, wean myself from your lies.

So, this difficult, next-to-impossible process had, begun. First, I’d, cleaned out EVERYTHING around me that’s related to you, stored all those photographs of us, in those broken frames up into the attic, inside that brown cardboard box.

what a load of C**P!!!  Not my picture…

Then, I’d, scrubbed the floors, to rid this house of your footprints, then, I’d, gone into the bedroom we once shared, and, there were, traces of our love everywhere it’s so, overwhelming, I’d broken down, and just, couldn’t, help myself, cried endlessly for hours on end, until, it was, dark out…

I’d, picked myself up off the floor, and dragged my heavy feet, continued to sort through this house full of memories of us. I’d, pulled back the curtains, to let the sun in, and, the room became, illuminated, and, it’d, dawned on me, that with or without you, the light’s still here, with, or without you, I’m still, me, it’s just, that you’d, taken pieces of me I’d given you, and wasted it up!

not my picture still…

Weaning myself off of your lies, you’d given me NOTHING but those empty promises, painted a picturesque life that we would never get to share, and I was too young, too dumb (yeah, I admit!!!), too trusting, toward you before, well, ain’t NEVER gonna make THAT mistake ever again that’s for sure!!!

 

Flee, a Poem

Dividing the blames, DOWN the middle, please!!! Translated…

A Fish, Like Us, the Benthic

Will Also, Devour, Another Fish

If There’s a Title to a Forest

Would You Choose the Game of Hide-and-Seek, or a Simple Japanese Cedar

On the Way, to Escape

From the Sounds that Hit the Ground

not my photo…

The Moonlight Was the Last of the Silverwares

As We’d, Walked Along in the Midst

The Baby Deer, are the Last Letters

Dots Everywhere, with All the Metaphors

Perhaps, You’d Needed the Frosts, to Make the Persimmons Sweet

And that Once the Expressions Left Us, then, Freedom Shall Come

not my photograph here…

If a Lake Become Lonely

Then, it’s Two People at Fault

And, When the Two People are at Fault

Then, Let’s Just Allow the Background Music to Play on

So, here, you’re trying to rationalize, who’s to blame for what happened, and, there’s NO way you can place the blame on just ONE of the two individuals who are involved, because BOTH are at fault, that, is why it didn’t work out…