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
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
Posted by notinthespotlight 
