Waking into the Noon
Waking into the noon, into an expanse of blank stillness.
Nobody around. Brightness abound in sight,
Thinning everything into a translucent illusion.
A patch of paper clings to a water jar by a tiny tent on the table:
"Gone for a tea appointment and eye shopping.
Won’t be back till dinnertime.
Udon for your lunch under the food cover. Heat before eating."
For the signature, a line drawing bird is flying, with two hearts for eyes.
This is real, and I feel it between my right thumb and forefinger.
The post-it notepad is my favorite, of quality canary yellow paper
With preprinted patterns of orchids, with a touch
That reminds me of the touch in a dimly lit room, of weakly electrified thrill.
Upon a touch, Monteverdi’s Madrigals send me away
And away from my body;
I am a man from the CD Age, in love with the music
That comes with the tangible heaviness of casing and inserts.
Bare feet on bare floor, the cool from my soles
Say: You are still alive in your body, here!
On the door to my son’s room hangs a pinewood plate,
He carves out a helmeted head, similar to the I-Want-You poster,
Pointing at me: Fine upon Trespassing!
The plate is a tourist trash from a famous mountain in China.
In holidays, he does voluntary work, teaching Chinese calligraphy
To some barely literate elders in a center, where I went to visit, once.
Those finally can live as gregarious beings, happily,
Before they are transferred to the hospice for the terminally ill.
What hurts is not their shabby writing, but their knowledge,
Despite their non-Buddhist non-Taoist hold onto the everyday,
That one lives on and on to realize life is nothing but a transition.
Outside the window, sunshine hurts my eyes.
Deep down there in a garden, between these towers, children are playing
See-saw, and they rise and fall.
The trees closer to the wall look like dark green hassocks, in the refreshing breeze
Heaving, and I can’t help wondering
Whether they are springy enough to cushion a heavy fallen object.
June 26, 2009
如那张I Want You海报，喊道“私人领地，侵入必罚”