waterlogged: poems
from my wordpress. sketchy, not revised, amateurish.
I. HAPPY AND SAD
all my life i’ve wondered how people
can sweep the weight of their weighty
heart beneath a measure of a smile -
fragile glass under fractured lips
of a carpet, just for other’s. they
ensure that when their skin is
touched, it will be warm, it
will be friendly. it will
be only for themselves
to peel the layers off,
and for their weightless
feet to feel the amassed
sickly shards. only
their feet feel the
piercing river. only
their souls drown
under the gravity
of sorrow. it is
only for themselves
to bear; it is
only for
themselves
to bare.
II. 妈 MOTHER
‘where are you going? where
are you going?’ mother repeats, worries.
worries repeat, mother
is not worried. mother is not
nagging. mother is merely in hate
with loss that she allows herself
to refuse herself
of medical checkups for her aching leg,
of breakdowns for her aching heart, so she
can pretend - you know? like the ge tais you see? - mother
lets herself lapse into mantra, singing
about how guan yin pu sa will baoyou us. mother chooses
to forget that the goddess did not protect 3rd uncle
from breaking his spine
when he was becoming a book
no one wanted to read, so he read himself,
memorized his body till it snapped. then
the snapshot would be there. if people forget,
he will remember
that mother wants the best
for everyone. that mother’s tears behind
the altar isn’t from the sorrow of your loss,
but from the fear of losing you.
mothers repeat, mothers worry. ‘guo ma lu
yao xiao xin.’ be careful (not small hearted),
because mother is not worried. mother
is not nagging. when mother asks
‘where are you going?’, it is not to
control your path, it is to prepare herself,
for the journey. it is for the moment
you tell her, ‘hell’. so that she will know.
so that she can follow you.
III. REGULAR
i exercise
regularly.
once in a
week is
regular.
once in a
month is
regular.
once
every
three
months
is regular.
i eat
regularly.
thrice a day
is regular.
once a day
is regular.
once every
two days
is regular.
i change
regularly.
once a week
is regular.
once a day
is regular.
once
every
moment
is regular.
IV. 一路顺风 BON VOYAGE
grandma gives me
an angpao, because i am going
to Bhutan. so does 3rd uncle, even
though i know he should be jealous
of the wings as he lays immobile.
it is as if flight paralyzes them
with fear, so much
that they press notes
into red packets, when there is not
enough space to bring themselves,
paying forward the cost for
divine intervention.
i always wonder how amulets
can protect us
from the knife of gravity
or the misfortune of being missed
when you never left. maybe
that is all that is left
in hope. maybe that will be
all that is left of us.
when they ask ‘what will you do
in Bhutan?’ i should say,
‘i will come back.’ and when
they ask me to be careful,
maybe it is the angpao that i
should think of. because of it,
i will be safe. i have
become the safe that
has to return, money
that has to be returned.
V. UNIVERSE from: xxx
a man was afraid
of himself. he was
afraid of the universe
inside of him. he took
a vacuum cleaner to swallow
the cosmos. the cosmos
swallowed him. his body became
a vacuum, clean of stardust.
his blood stopped their orbit,
and his bones scattered
to fill the space. the man
went down to the sea. he saw
his universe there. they
were not the same universe,
but they were universes
all the same - boundless
and profound they scared
the man. all his life
he wanted to understand
the world inside of him
and the world in its
own right. but he
never understood
that life was not about
understanding the universe
but understanding
that the universe
cannot be understood. the
man was afraid
of the universe.
I. HAPPY AND SAD
all my life i’ve wondered how people
can sweep the weight of their weighty
heart beneath a measure of a smile -
fragile glass under fractured lips
of a carpet, just for other’s. they
ensure that when their skin is
touched, it will be warm, it
will be friendly. it will
be only for themselves
to peel the layers off,
and for their weightless
feet to feel the amassed
sickly shards. only
their feet feel the
piercing river. only
their souls drown
under the gravity
of sorrow. it is
only for themselves
to bear; it is
only for
themselves
to bare.
II. 妈 MOTHER
‘where are you going? where
are you going?’ mother repeats, worries.
worries repeat, mother
is not worried. mother is not
nagging. mother is merely in hate
with loss that she allows herself
to refuse herself
of medical checkups for her aching leg,
of breakdowns for her aching heart, so she
can pretend - you know? like the ge tais you see? - mother
lets herself lapse into mantra, singing
about how guan yin pu sa will baoyou us. mother chooses
to forget that the goddess did not protect 3rd uncle
from breaking his spine
when he was becoming a book
no one wanted to read, so he read himself,
memorized his body till it snapped. then
the snapshot would be there. if people forget,
he will remember
that mother wants the best
for everyone. that mother’s tears behind
the altar isn’t from the sorrow of your loss,
but from the fear of losing you.
mothers repeat, mothers worry. ‘guo ma lu
yao xiao xin.’ be careful (not small hearted),
because mother is not worried. mother
is not nagging. when mother asks
‘where are you going?’, it is not to
control your path, it is to prepare herself,
for the journey. it is for the moment
you tell her, ‘hell’. so that she will know.
so that she can follow you.
III. REGULAR
i exercise
regularly.
once in a
week is
regular.
once in a
month is
regular.
once
every
three
months
is regular.
i eat
regularly.
thrice a day
is regular.
once a day
is regular.
once every
two days
is regular.
i change
regularly.
once a week
is regular.
once a day
is regular.
once
every
moment
is regular.
IV. 一路顺风 BON VOYAGE
grandma gives me
an angpao, because i am going
to Bhutan. so does 3rd uncle, even
though i know he should be jealous
of the wings as he lays immobile.
it is as if flight paralyzes them
with fear, so much
that they press notes
into red packets, when there is not
enough space to bring themselves,
paying forward the cost for
divine intervention.
i always wonder how amulets
can protect us
from the knife of gravity
or the misfortune of being missed
when you never left. maybe
that is all that is left
in hope. maybe that will be
all that is left of us.
when they ask ‘what will you do
in Bhutan?’ i should say,
‘i will come back.’ and when
they ask me to be careful,
maybe it is the angpao that i
should think of. because of it,
i will be safe. i have
become the safe that
has to return, money
that has to be returned.
V. UNIVERSE from: xxx
a man was afraid
of himself. he was
afraid of the universe
inside of him. he took
a vacuum cleaner to swallow
the cosmos. the cosmos
swallowed him. his body became
a vacuum, clean of stardust.
his blood stopped their orbit,
and his bones scattered
to fill the space. the man
went down to the sea. he saw
his universe there. they
were not the same universe,
but they were universes
all the same - boundless
and profound they scared
the man. all his life
he wanted to understand
the world inside of him
and the world in its
own right. but he
never understood
that life was not about
understanding the universe
but understanding
that the universe
cannot be understood. the
man was afraid
of the universe.