What I recall is
its sexy alto voice.
Not sure. Maybe it was soprano.
In fact, nothing I can remember
except a delusion;
A bird sang a love song for me.
If I go back to the forest,
could I pick out the bird?
If the bird sing a song for me again,
could I recall that delusion?
Should I ask other birds?
I could put my memory in a birdcage
and just wait for our fate unfold…
Mind of a butterfly,
hovering over a flower
even when it’s taking a nap
with its wings folded;
Flower is THE treasure of a butterfly.
What is my treasure?
Who is my treasure?
Where is it wandering around?
Where is it snooping around?
My delighted smile;
Not because of a vision of Jesus;
I am still a butterfly
even with my feeble flip-flap.
If you love me, you can have cute fantasy.
Make a white horse out of my ugly donkey.
Turn my run-down shack into a beautiful palace.
Let my rags become a fabulous ball-dress.
A nameless man passing by you
is transformed into a prince by your eyes.
An invisible man loitering around you
is transfigured into a special man by your cares.
Ah! Do not shatter your fantasy.
Your fantasy is
my daily bread,
my real clothes,
my only shelter,
my ever-lasting life.
When you fantasy wears a thick shell and
becomes my unbreakable fantasy,
you can get out of the fantasy and
watch the reality with ecstasy.
Half of people in the world is woman; even Don Juan
can’t love all of them. He might be able to love all the
beautiful women, but there must be a special woman
he loves in a special way just like Jesus who loves all
women as well as man loves Mary Magdalene in a
different way, then who would be my special woman?
Not an easy question to answer; how many married
man would say, “My special woman is my wife”. My
wife being my special woman might make my life appear
dull and boring, so am trying to squeeze my memory to
find out a woman who was special to me, but since no
women dare to enter my deep heart, my wife is destined
to be my special woman? My life has been full of wild
rivers, high mountains and dangerous forests just like
other men’s lives, but alas! no special woman I loved in
a different way! Hold on! She might claim she was a
special woman to me. Who’s she? Do I know her? Um…
Cain, the first murderer of the humankind.
‘Cause there were only four people; Adam,
Eve, Abel and Cain when Cain killed Abel.
So calling Cain the first fratricide would be
Meaningless. Lamech, 6th descendent of
Cain didn’t just keep ancestor’s tradition,
but also created a new tradition by taking
two wives; Adah and Zillah. He showed a
great courage to stretch the meaning of
God’s holy will; to make one from created
one man and one woman. ‘Adah’ is said to
mean ‘embellish’; Embellishment is women’s
basic instinct. Who can blame woman who
wants to be pretty? The name ‘Zillah’ is said
to imply ‘dark’. Women’s darkness could
be a charm, so Lamech had two wives with
totally different taste. Who knows the truth?
I didn’t see them myself. Cain’s tradition of
bad blood was adopted by good blood –
Abraham and Jacob who had several wives.
Define ‘bad’. Define ‘good’. I used to envy
polygamy, but how fortunate I have only
one wife! How can I serve several wives?
Even serving only one woman is too hard.
Well, Biblical ancestors, they didn’t serve
women, but they took care of them. Yeah!
No matter how beautiful it is,
if it won’t seduce me
with its fragrance,
if it won’t greet me
with its warm heart,
it would be just
a flower in a vase,
a unnecessary attraction to innocent bystanders,
a cheap decoration in a so-so restaurant.
The flower that was thrown in the garbage can
even before it was touched by my hands.
I’ve written poems for this flower, so
If I excrete it from my mind,
It will bequeath beautiful poems, but
the flower I dumped,
whose flower will it become and
be thrown away again?
‘Cause of my spirit of mercy,
It would take long to realize that
I’ve been trashed by the flower…
In a room that is darker than the hair
of a virgin ghost, a candlelight that
is smaller than a mustard seed will
light up this not-so-small room bright
and make cockroaches take flight
and make the ghost vent her spite
in a dark dark mountain outside.
Then why can’t I light the candle?
I don’t have to see anyway. In no
time, my eyes will get used to the
dark and I can see what I want to
see. I won’t have to drive the vengeful
ghost out with lighted candle. I will
take revenge for her. I didn’t know
this small candle was so powerful…