别等我 – 写给错过的爱恋和祖国

2014/01/23

别等我

– 写给错过的爱恋和祖国

楼顶的旭日,正午的光

太阳西斜

燃烧着大西洋

春季的疑惑,夏的奔放

秋日殷实

点缀苍凉的忧伤

我会在深冬的暗夜启航

纹身太阳图腾,带着春的想像

着红戴绿, 穿粉配银

碎花多彩的裙子,

    高跟鞋,打上蝴蝶结

你矫情南边的烟火

我闷骚北边的烟火

还有酒吧的窗子,赖皮框住的烟火

我迟了,但我终将到达

一把无弦的吉他

一脸沟壑纵横

不过你千万别等我

大风吹过、雨打过

你玩过,我浪过

伤寒疟疾胡言乱语过

我在东港捕我的龙

你在西街吃你的烧烤

纹身太阳图腾

带着春的想像

谁敢拦我就给他一枪

我们厮守过、虔诚过

我们爱恋过,患得患失过

我迟了,但我终将到达

一袋过期的烟草

一面浑浊的旗帜

不过你一定别等我

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Jung-Blake Double Talk

2009/11/21

The Tales of Hoffmann was shown at the Rubin Museum as part of Jungian movie series during the display of Carl Jung’s Red Book.  The recoloring by Technicolor makes the high handed intellectual construct of the movie version of the Opera story even more over the top. Lack of happiness, after all, can be the creative source.

Went to see William Blake exhibition with a engineer-turned-poet-turned-power house young media executive-turned-big time tech executive friend. Blake never traveled far from his home town.  What happened to “万卷书,千里路”.  Maybe all enlightenment and salvation is in our dreams?  BTW, Morgan library did not do a good job with the Blake show. A disappointment.

Blake-Jung connection may only exist in my mind (and of course my dreams)


Skipped Home

2009/05/24

Skipped Home

DSC01469

That night
My heart skipped a beat

The band, a jazz 3 piece
A drum, a piano, and a bass
Devil with a smile
Rolls ‘n rolls, Emptiness
The rolling of tune, of rhythm, of melodies

The drum skipped a beat
Yes it was jazz band
Acoustic instruments, analogue on vinyl
Or was it digital
They rolled ‘n rolled
Smile of the devil

The piano skipped a beat,
The drum stood by
The base played the long haired guy
He couldn’t sing with all that rye
The other two were bold, they skipped him over
As the base plays long haired guy

My heart, oh my heart
It’s probably from my mother
It skipped a beat,
two,
maybe five
The beat went rolling, rolling
evaporating in the air
with the melody ‘n despair
It is my mother
It is my father
It is my homeland that I really never wanted
Oh, Come to think of it, it chose me square
If I could only skip that land, let childhood rolls with flair
If I could only skip heart beats here and there
To die and to relive without fan fair
It only I could jazz…

DSC01489

Why am I here, West Village Manhattan
The home of the homeless
Why am I rolling with the rolling of tunes, of rhythms, of melodies
This heart of mine
This void that use to be a meaty bloody heart
It slipped itself as it rolled with the guys,
The guys, played by the drum, the piano, and the base

“It doesn’t matter how you fall
Only matters how you land”
Home at last

“You only live once
Not even then”
Home at last

“Broken heart is like hemorrhoid
Sooner or later every ass hole gets one”
Home at last

“What goes up
will eventually come down”
Home at last

Thank Earth and Heaven
I’m home at last


History’s Hang-Over – on the 20th anniversary of Tiananmen Massacre

2009/05/24

by Shen Tong

The Party

We were rocks rolling into the early summer
Tiananmen Square was built around us with flair
Freedom grabbed spring for a love affair

We stripped ourselves bare
Our excited voices turned higher
Our fists clinched tighter

We came
we dreamed in exhaustion

by the next year
there would only be spring here

Dreams are intoxicating
Even rolling rocks got drunk

The rolling rocks stopped rolling
The rest …

is history’s hang-over

The Farewell

Street led roaring trucks into Beijing
Ignorance consumed Marshall Law soldiers
Tanks reconstructed pavement in a trance
Bullets invited young bodies for a dance

The color of blood
The sound of gunfire
The burning buses and cars

The party was a hit
But we were the uninvited guests
Our pride was our last stands
“Somebody had to stop” the party at once

The rolling rocks were acquiring moss
The rest …

is history’s hang-over

Wang Weilin

The Hang-over

Everybody got their 15 minutes then got sober
People waited in line even after the party was over
Anyone who was not there claimed ancient ties to the dreamer.
And the host was embarrassed
They classified the party as an urban legend

The scary kind, you can only whisper about
Not talking about it at all would be better

Let bygones be gone
Let trauma to be frozen and suppressed
Let’s chant a thousand times over

“we are better off with the massacre”.

Spring came, and spring went, time got wise and clever

Freedom hoped
Freedom insisted
Freedom did not overcome

The fling with spring is too inconvenient to remember
Everyone is now a practical philosopher
Why make love,

when one can make money big and make war bigger

The rolling rocks are covered with moss
The rest …

is history’s hang-over

© copyright, Shen Tong 2009


卻有你的眼神

2001/11/05

卻有你的眼神

我在珠穆朗瑪峰頂

我在春天

燦爛

綠蔭與胭紅

湛藍

          感激油然而生,

無緣的神傷

時間停滯的白沙灘

淺綠透明

   涼絲絲

我是在地中海還是墨西哥灣?

606是我們的郁金香

            紅黃兩色的那種

                        我是花蕊

                        你是花心

                                    我是花蕊

                        你是花心

                        我是花蕊

                                    你是花心

我貼近然後融入大地

            我在春天阿姆斯特丹的郊外

            我在夏季日內瓦花壇的黑土

            我在秋天新英格蘭的丘陵

為顏色歌唱

            你的顏色讓我

是你嬌情的怒放

            讓我有了新的模樣

閃電在無人煙的內蒙古草原的雨夜裡

            你在我的流浪生涯裡

陽光和雨氣

都是無心的

卻有你的眼神

            把我化作彩虹


流亡

1993/11/05

流亡

希望的前日,希望的今天

流亡的暗夜、流亡的海

如闪电劃過黑暗,嘎然而止,沒有雷聲

亡命之旅獨唱滄海桑田的歌

 一个真空伸展着

把旧的梦幻揉搓开

又 – – –

散落了

探听歌声的粗糙

大风呼啸

雁群掠过

   夕阳尽了

放歌正是清脆的时候

 

正是清脆的时候

潮湿的失落

是咸的

是浪峰的流光

幻想拥挤着

拥挤着引吭的异峰突起

月色慘淡

一跳一跳地滚动

滚动

    滚动

研碎了一夜之間已经风化的等待

我爱啊

歌声拨开泪水的珠帘

将尽酒  手中的冰凉

近乎温润了

微笑挂在泪滴上

和陨星一道

在云的前后  悄然地

流盼

 

天朦朦亮

流亡開始


Exile

1990/06/10

Coming from Hope.

Going to Hope

Adrift upon a sea of hope.

Looking back on the mists of home,

on the shasow eyes

and half-turned smiles

on waves and waves of time

Time sings to me:

“The boundless sea

becomes the field you plant upon.”

The song becomes a poem

I store safely in my truncks