Once, Inside a Reflection, a Poem

a painting of Narcissus from online…

On falling in love, and the timing was, WRONG!!! Translated…

I Once Saw You in a Reflection

The Skies Then Were, Bluer, than Blue

The Flowers, More Aromatic than Ever Before

And, You Appeared, So Breathtaking

For My Sake

And Those Sorrowful Tunes, Became Like the Funeral’s March

The Marches Became, Like the Whitened Towns

With Each Sunset, Imprinting Those

Elongated Shadows, into the Rivers

You’d, Stepped in the Innocence of Unknown

And I, Was Merely, Passing by, as the Sun Sets, a Careless

Piece of the Puzzle, and Just so Happened

I Caught a Gaze of Your Fiery-Red Hair

Back then, Life Was Multi-Dimensional

And Life Became, Geometric Shapes

Made by the Strokes of Picasso

They’re, All Blue

Not Collecting the Bitterness

Without Any Laws

Just, Taking Over the Heart, that Multi-Colored Arch

Poured the Birds, All Over the Skies

Not Knowing What Sorrow is

Or what Happiness Entailed

Those Heavy Days, the Sorrows

Were All, Separated, by a Thin Film

Why Had I, Seen You

In a, Reflection

The Spring Learned to Be Lonely

The Clouds of Worries, Rose Up to Your Brows

Time Became a Heavy Chain

And Since, I’d, Learned to Look Out

From the Vents

Why is it, that I’d

Met You Inside

A Reflection

So, there’s, that sense of regret, perhaps??? Because, had the narrator not met this other person the way that s/he had, then, maybe, there’s, a chance, for love to keep going, but, because, the narrator had met that person in a reflection, that, is why, the relationship was, doomed, because, unless you want to DROWN like Narcissus, you should KNOW better, than, to fall in love, with a reflection, because it’s NOT real!!!

In an Instant, a Poem


Plant a Single Rose on the Horizon

The Rising Sun Watered It

a rose, in the early mornings, in someone’s garden, photo from online…

Drop, by Drop

Dripped, onto that Laughing Poetic Eye of the Rose’s

Mmmmmmmm!  The Rain Became a Downpour from the Skies

cleansed by the rain here, like that, easactly, NOT my photograph…

Coloring that Falsified Look of the Years

So, everything is NOT what it seemed as, and, that’s just how “constant” things are in the world, the poet described this so very well, don’t you think???

Turning Home Late, a Poem

The encounters of someone’s returning home late in the evenings, translated…

The Monk, Pushed

That Door Underneath the Moon

The Door

Already Used to This, the Silence, the Sturdiness

like this???  Not my photograph…

No Matter How Hard It’d Pushed, the Moon Just, Refused to Open Up the Doors

The Dews Made the Shawl Wet

After He’d Felt Confused, then, Laughed, Bitterly

Patted Down that Scar on His Bald Head

So Radiantly Shiny, Like the Golden Glows

Then, I Shall, Bang on the Doors on His Behalf Then

But, No Matter How Hard I’d Knocked

The Door Constantly Answered:

Empty, Empty, Empty

And Finally, the Door Swung Open

The Moon Still with that Icy Expression on Its Face

Was the Door, Pushed Open by Him, or Was it, Cracked Open by Me?

 a pagoda at night 的圖片結果or this, not my photograph still…

For Thousands of Years

He Kept, Standing Tall Outside the Temple

Waited on that Bell Chime in the Depth of the Mountains

To Reply Back to Him

So, there’s that scent of solitary, waiting, endlessly, for something that just, won’t happen, and yet, the door still opened up, it’s just, that the narrator didn’t know if s/he were the one who’d, opened it, or that if it was, some other forces in nature that managed to crack the door open…

The Rehearsals on Set, a Poem


Meditate X-Ray Vision

Measure & Weigh that Gigantic, Gorgeous


rehearsals on set 的圖片結果what it’d looked like, before the show starts…photo from online…

I Already, Relieved Myself of the Quality of

the Internal Flames.  The Moment I Touched

the Plot with the Extension of My Hands

Instinct Suddenly, Shoved Me Outside the Doors

And, I Was, Faced with

Everything that Happens On the Set at the Moment

Waiting Until the Rice Grew Past My Knees

That Sensation that Compelled Me to Pull Them Up

Sounded off the Alarms of Joy

getting ready for the show 的圖片結果in makeup, and running that last rehearsal of lines, to make sure that we are, more than prepared…photo from online…

Asking that Sky from Outside My Windows

Are You Too, Afraid of Noises?

So, this, is all someone’s mind, making a scene, so to speak, the narrator is having an introspective moment, and, this is leading the narrator somewhere…

Time, a Poem

So many, metaphors here, translated…

Time is, with the Back of the Hand, Closing in on a Cat

As the Hand Approached that Light Pink Nostrils

that, is how time sneaks up on us…not my comic!


It’d Started, Inhaling the Air So Coldly

So, this, is how this poet interprets time, there’s how greedy the cat become, in consuming the air, which I believe, is a metaphor of how some of us greedily, tried too hard, to keep time from running out………

The Wall, a Poem

The philosophies from life, translated…

That Ancient Cement-Paved Wall

Became So Spotted Like an Ancient Piece of Paper

The Spots Seemed to Cause People to

See Certain Images Underneath the Sun

a wall like this must have stories to tell…photo from online…

Those Art Classes from Our Middle School Years

After Passing Through the Accumulation of Time

Became Like Shiny Stars High Up in the Skies

Sometimes, They’d Looked Like the Broken Stems of the Lotuses in the Ponds

The Architect Measured the Totems of the Land

That Wall Often Attracted Me

And Metamorphosed into Various Stories in My Mind

It’d Stood, Few Feet Away

Colliding, Changing into Various Things with Time

Entered from My Pupils

or like this…photo from online…

Started Growing within Me

Becoming, an Endless World of Wonder

Like Stories that the World

Has Disclosed to Me

So, so many things are, written down, not in words, but in images, every place has its own history, and you just need to, listen, or look closer, to hear those silent words that these places are telling to you…

Deepsea Diving, a Poem

You can escape, from your own broken heart there, you’re, eventually, going to, face up to it, but for now, you’re, submerged, under all that water, translated…

all that water is enough, to distract you from your broken heart…not my picture…

Finally, the Rope for the Drapes Severed

That String of Shells So White

Broken into Bits & Pieces, Mixed in with Salt Crystals

Disclosed the Sound of the Rain from the Deep Sea

Before I Open My Umbrella

To Construct This World, Made of Corals

Blocking Out the Beauties

The Tentacles of Relationship Became


hurts, doesn’t it???  Not my picture…

You Were, Stuck in the Midst

That Clownfish, Trapped in

The Corals of Your Thoughts

Didn’t Want to Burst Your Bubbles

That She Just

Doesn’t Love You Anymore…………

So, chances are, you will be, more than likely, to keep yourselves underwater, because up above, is the cold hard truth of how she doesn’t love you anymore waiting, while in the oceans, the fishes, they’d, felt better, keeping the truth untold, unspoken, to keep your heart from, shattering………