Chasing Down Regrets, a Poem

The understandings that came a bit late, translated…

Many Years Later

They Finally Come to the Understanding

That The Island Snowing

The People Going Crazy Over the Snows

The Day the Snow Covered Up the Lands

Was the Very First Day

of The End

If only you know what you didn’t know then, that, is regret, and, no matter how hard you’d recalled, how hard you’d longed, for those moments of mistakes in the past made by you back again, you can’t, have your lives, to do over again, and, if you keep on looking back, you’ll end up, missing out on the rest of your lives, but hey, what can you do?  You were the ones, who’d made that very first, initial WRONG step, and every single step afterwards, was to make up for that very FIRST mistake you’d ever made.


Searching in the Darkness, for Recent Memories…

I’d been searching in the dark lately, quite a lot, actually, for recent memories, any one, but, no matter how I WRECKED my brains, nothing surfaces to my mind.

Searching in the darkness, for recent memories, don’t you know, that memories only exist, where we can see?  And that, the darkness, that place, was saved, for the forgotten, the gone-away, memories…

what do you think you’ll be finding like this, huh???  Not my photograph.

Searching in the darkness, for recent memories, I’d looked up (not that I can tell which way’s up or down, it’s dark???  Hello, hello, hello???), and then, down, it’s just, not going well these days!  Searching in the darkness, for recent memories, any one of them would do, but NO, there IS none, NOT since you’d left me hanging high, and dry!

Searching in the darkness, for recent memories, and yet, what, do I find?  Absolutely, NOTHING, and, you KNOW that you can’t see diddily SQUAT without light, unless, of course, you’re, a nocturnal creature…what do you think you’ll be finding like this, huh??? Not my photograph.

Waiting, on a Dream…

Waiting, on a dream, that, is where you’d, left me, high and dry, way back when, and I’d, waited, blindly, believed that this dream, which turned out to be, a L-I-E, was, NEVER going to make.

Waiting, on a dream, that, is what it’d, felt like, being in love, never knowing, when this love will turn, upward, or downward, or if, it’s going to do that tilt-a-whirl thing that’ll make me, throw up like crazy at any time!

waiting on a dream 的圖片結果like climbing up these never-ending stairs, not my illustration.

Waiting on a dream, but why?  I’m not stupid you know!  Waiting on a dream, that’s something, only the young AND the naïve (yes, you must possess both of these “qualities”…) can have the luxuries of, for the rest of us, we simply, can’t afford it.

Waiting on a dream, for so long now, and, knowing it’s nowhere NEAR, comin’ true, became a part of my everyday life, and yet, I’d wondered at times, late at night, why, I’m still, waiting on………you???  Just can’t, quite figure it all out is the thing.

an empty park bench 的圖片結果

like this, perhaps???  Not my photograph…

Waiting on a dream, no more, I won’t, wait again, been waiting, my whole life, for that train (or that ship???) that’s already, left where I was, and now, perhaps, it’s, my time, to march onward, with the rest of my life, instead of, getting, trapped by these moments, in my past………

Typewriter, a Short Prose

Things that became, outdated, a metaphor for a marriage, to this character here, translated…

She’d used the typewriter to practice her English keyboarding skills.  But after graduation, the typewriter became outdated.  After that, the computers became more and more advanced by the year, soon enough, she’d, forgotten, that typewriter once, existed in this world.  Until tonight in a movie, she saw a typewriter again, and got reminded of how she’d, spent six months with it, and back then, she’d entered into key entry competitions with him too.  Some say, that not seeing what you forgot means you don’t need it anymore.  After the movie, she was, lost in thought for a very long time…………

The very next morning, she’d called him up, told him she agreed to the divorce he asks her for.

cracked open and broke, so fragile…not my photo…

So, after this enlightening, the woman finally decided, that it’s, time she should, let go of something that’s outdated (not the typewriter, but her own marriage!), and, her remembering using the typewriter was a sort of a nostalgia this woman needed, to find closure to her own marriage, and, after seeing the typewriter in the movie, she’d, found the closure she’d needed, and finally, agreed, to divorce the man she was married to.  It’s a wonder, how something that’s totally unrelated to anything else, can give you such a wakeup call, isn’t it???




By the Sea, a Poem

The memories, of his younger years, fighting in the war, translated…

The Elderly Stood by the Seas

Danger!  A Younger Military Man Called Out

Sounding Like the Cannons Firing in the Distance

The Elderly Stepped Closer to the Sea

not my artwork…

Danger!  Another Young Military Man Told Him

Sounded Like the Guns Firing Off in the Past

The Elderly Turned His Head to Look

There Was, Only the Shadows He’d Casted, Elongated

And, the Scattered Footprints He’d Made

So, these voices might be memories of this elderly’s younger years, as he’d weathered through the wars, and, the sea here, might be a symbol of his passage home.

Love Was, Never Here…

Love was, never here, to begin with, so, why are we, searching for something that was, NEVER in existence between us???  Love was, never here, we just, thought it was, but, it wasn’t, love we thought we’d, found, it was, something, entirely, different from love.

Love was, never here, there’s no use, trying to find it now, if it had been here, it’s now, long dead, AND gone, and, resuscitating it back to life, it’s just, NOT the right thing to do, we should just, let it, die, with what’s left, of ITS dignity intact!

Love was, never here, and it will, NEVER be here, the closest we’d ever come to love, was that, one-night stand, that resulted in an illegit, that I’d, aborted, because there’s, NO way, you’ll, take responsibilities for what you had done, and, there’s, NO way I’m able to, raise this child on my own, so, it’s best, that I’d, MURDERED it (no gender-specifications???).

Love was, never here, and it’s, never been here, we just, thought that it was, as we’d, made this, picture-perfect home for it to reside in, but, it was, never here, and so, we are now, left with, this, emptiness, shared, between us both.

Love was, never here…was it?  Nope, so, why am I, still here???













A Toy Gun, a Short Prose

How much someone’s life can change, with a switch of a thought here???  Or maybe, she’s just, refusing to see the truth, so she won’t hurt at all…translated…

She went to a wholesales mart, saw a young boy running excitedly with a toy gun.  She’d thought, he has NO idea what’s in store for him for the futures, that was why he’s so, excited.   Perhaps, if we knew a little less, then, we can be, happy.  As she got home, she’d stopped using her cell phone, and found a job that doesn’t involve her using a computer.  She’d taken up gardening with an elderly man, spending her days as a green thumb, she’d felt peaceful and happy.  Because she doesn’t know, that he’s found a new love, and is about to get married soon.

like this???  Not my photo…

So, this, is how this woman deals, with the fact, that the man she loved had found someone new, she’d used distractions, and pretended that nothing’s happened, by forcing that scent of childish innocence on herself, and that little boy with a toy gun, running happily is a sort of a threshold guardian to her life, for the child had, led her into this naïve, this innocence way of living, and, we just don’t know, how long her state of mind will last…