Poems on Man

2011-09-05 22:11:58  巢圣Chao  所属诗集  阅读5124 】


A Poem on Man

A breath in the nostrils
A remnant of the spirit
Confined in bones and flesh
Which come out of a womb
Grow like flowers
And wither
Like grass

The years
A shadow

The Brain

Racking brains between ears
Therein arise the deep things of man
Dripping the imagination of strong and light drink

Occasionally between one eye and the other
Soar up peaks
Where not a single stone
Can be taken
For the head of the corner

On a Seat in the High Places of the City

The prostitute is taking a seat in the high places of the city
her shouts stretching out naked arms hooking his soul
followed by her flesh

Like lust drilling into his pores
or an arrow shooting through his liver
the desires of his eyes, a pig in the slaughterhouse

As he was in a disgusting situation, she disappeared-
a quick action! Those who try to think back are seen
like a corpse in their suits
tossed up by the four winds into the deep pit

A Lonely Stroll

A lonely stroll through the woods of words-
the world comes down and down
filled with the covenants of eyes
the passion of the flesh
the boasting of riches

A lonely stroll through the world of words-
the wood comes down and down
weighted with the worries of life
dissipation and drunkenness
choked by thorns and briers

A lonely stroll through the words of the wood
where birds of every kind assemble
with wild animals
to gather for the feast
the sacrificial feast of the end


Loneliness leaps up
and turns its body around in the air
in an aesthetic way

I put four dead carps in the fish jar
and they became alive one by one
as I poured water there
and there was a sea in their stare

Then appeared the faces of two writers
who used to be my friends
I said to them
You have left your life as prize of war
that you may live

To my surprise I turned back and found
the jar was suddenly a pond
and that my carps were gone

For Stephen Crane

He spent his whole life
eating of his flesh and heart
with the red badge of courage
like a hunter in the wilderness

He has been taught everywhere
interpreted by students who become teachers
by lecturers who promote to be professors-
fruits of the one who sold his birthright

I sneak out of the hairy voices
climb onto the roof of the building
like the one in a trance
waiting for the fall of the heavenly cloth


For Emily Dickinson

A lonely woman in a beautiful prison

The letter that kills
stilled a window of imagery
where introversion was philosophy
and the elements of the world

Alas! No essence! No oil! No lamp!

Born in a wrong time, poor virgin
you had no bridegroom to meet
A life wrung, screwed up with hyphens
like bones, lined up as fences

Poetry slanting the historic carriage


To T.S. Eliot

Eliot, you announced the death of many an age
the death of memory and the death of any sage
the death of poetry with the sea and its foams
the death of images with their ruins

Eliot, if the two empires have declined
you are to blame as a person enshrined
you have uprooted their civilization
without sowing the good seed for solution

Those who understand you sigh and suffer
those who don't marvel at you as a winner
Eliot, I just want to say by taking a risk
you have thrown away the earth like a disk

And then disappeared
in the universe


For Bertrand Russel

The night woke up with a moon, eyeing me with calm

The mouth of the moon is the best wine

A voice burst out, referring to Bertrand
Philosophy takes captive even if
clothed in philanthropic love

And wisdom is the truth and the truth is spirit
There allows no confusion

Now it cries aloud by the gate of a century

But ears have been lent
to illogical reality, unfurling irrational event


Reading Thomas Transtromer

The letter lies imprisoned
on white pages
free of criminal psychology

Outside the window is a fox
which destroyed the vineyard
its hungry footsteps
marring the white snow-

the language from above


The English Language

As I was writing in English yesterday morning
I felt drunk that I murmured to myself
who has put wine in the language?

This morning, when I thought of English
my nerves began to energize themselves
my head was charged like a balloon

Why is the language like this?
Who has cast a spell
that it has colonized the world
set up a common speech
to ascend into the sky

I do wish to disturb it
like the mighty one
his right foot on the sea
his left on the land
treading on the tongues
of the waters


Bumping into the Sounds

Bumping into the sounds of the English language
you may experience a lot of fun
for it takes you where you have never trodden
and undresses you like you are old

Here I sit, a poet of English in China
typing, tripping over fingertips to a mirage
with time ticking, tricking me in its parade

Shall I go back to the ancient confusion?
Do I want to rebuild the tower for fame?
Or recall the river of language and literature?
A question or two is often my challenge


The Kinship

From one blood have we come
multiplied by the same breath
nostrils to nostrils
vessels to vessels
though sprinkled on the earth
with predestined boundaries
and lengths of years

Life, the one life we observe
though groaning with creations
The hidden breath beavers-
the silent power that overrides
the turmoil of inanity
born with waves at sea


Thus Says My Father

Making covenant with eyes is a great sin

The eyes in the head are really bad
they turn around without stop

A glance is followed and swallowed
by ceaseless thoughts from within

All eyes are murmuring all the time

These people are also pitiful
for they can never use up their money

They build up their places of rest
high up in the rocks

Their belly is their god

Both the rich and the poor
are being coined by money

which drives ghosts
turning the millstones
of hard hearts


A Reply to a Pen Pal

A real poet is invisible
He abides within
and conceives
He writes in a whisper
as from a stronghold

A real poet is tangible
His heart can be felt
like a mountain

An Advertisement

Please buy me! Please sell me!
She shouts to the earth with her hands up

And a great city begins to fall
with its images shattered on the ground
language and literature laid in waste
a desolation of wisdom and wit
which was a golden cup
making drunk
all nations

Writing Class

They just dug with their pens
And dug out a mirror on the white paper

They tried their best
To look into the reflection
Of glittering waters
Their body and mind
Condensed as crawling waves

From time to time I looked at them
They seem to be a special troop
Lurking in ambush
Outside the city

An Academic Lunch

Two red mouths
Blooming in the painting
Reddened the wall

Made men and women
Within and without
All dressed in scarlet

The food served was bloody
The blood is life
Dying or living
A choice for all

A dinner party
Can have academic
And social value
Luckily a poet
Is not listed on the agenda
He ate
And left


Some academic authorities
Were sitting by a high speed tilt
At a starting station or a destination
They took the common road as their seat
And the high speed for their assessment table

Some subjects are not calm enough
They jumped up and became a toll station
Some authority like Sherlock
Took the balance to weigh blood


【The Halloween】

the darkest psyche of the country
in the howl and prowl of ghosts

the horrible hollow of human hearts
the halloween harrowing homo sapiens

condemning them to the dead
and the beautiful land to Hades

【This Floating Kingdom】

My life for the lasting Kingdom has not yet begun
Though I have hidden myself for such a long time
Excercising my soul and body for this long run
Though the Wisdom desired has not yet come

I do float, I do wobble, and do cry
For my heart in the wilderness fails
To find water, the word for my life
I do struggle, I do withdraw, and do dry

I do fear my patience will not endure
For I plan, plan, plan with my wisdom
Cannot live a day, really relying on Him
My life for the lasting Kingdom has not come sure

I do feel bad, I do feel sad, and do moan:
A fountain He has opened, but I've labored in vain
Guilt strikes me, away from His throne
Shame shades my face and wets my palm...

In this floating kingdom, when will You rise?
That I can rise, I can race, and I can fight
In You, only in You can I delight
In this floating kingdom, nothing else

The Eagle and I

God compares Himself to an eagle
Stirring up the nest
And I was falling down
Like a stone
In extreme fright
I made my first flight
Once in a fall   
I shoutd loudly
And was about to touch the ground
When power came to hold me    

And I was taken up
By the huge wings of the eagle
In the first time
I saw myself filthy all over
And was ashamed to death
He flew to me
And robed me
With His wings
I was placed on the height
And heard a whisper
His legs are beryl

Summer Vacation: Some New Images of Wandering

On the ball of high temperatures come frequent obituaries
And people begin to disappear like midges

Into the holes over Himalayas
The Antartic and the Arctic
Scatter the heavens like clouds

Outside a chain hotel window in Hangzhou
A lone sparrow
Is rusting

Overlooking the city
I saw life's worries and riches and pleasures
With cockroaches crawling
All over the earth at night

Waiting for high-speed rail in Zhenjiang
Disaster has come to Wenzhou and Hongqiao

My life has been replaced
West Lake beauty was cast behind

The flesh is a handful of dust
Its realness proceeds from Adam's mouth

The first Adam became a living being
And the last Adam a living spirit

Staring at the road after a few sleeps
Such a long way with so many changes

There is a road, but walked by no one-
It is the voice of speaking
The breath of the word
The word of life

Finally anchored in Luohu
A group of college students drifting there

Mark from the United States is a Chinese folk artist
He was dressed with Mao all over

I read a poem he forgot to play the flute
I played the harp he forgot the ancient riddle

We wandered through Shenzhen, Hongkong and New York

Wall Street is a wall
Initiated by the Dutch and continued by the British
Now the turn for the Americans from the world

The voices outside and inside the wall
They threw into the fire.
And came out a bronze bull-

The god which was cast in the desert
Leading them out of their countries
To hail Mammon

A ball thrown in a broad place
Jumping, the glory of Egypt
It's now Mose's shame

The angel proclaiming the law
Where are you staying tonight

Your footsteps invisible
Your way on the sea
Your way on the water

Dalian's cruise is a dream

Lying in the Egyptian tomb
The stubborn heart rejecting the oracle

And the body becomes a dried vanity

The East Wind erected the wall of the Red Sea
Pharaoh's wheels fell off
Couldn't carry on

Jeremiah shouted
Pharaoh is a noise
Already dead

The roar of many countries and peoples
Like the rumbling of carriots

Syria Yemen and Libya
Seeing through the clouds is misery

Standing on the sea of glass
Is another state of mind
With the whole body full of eyes

The wheels move forward so do the the living creatures
And the wheels backward so do the living creatures

As if history was but a robot thrown to the ground

Oh, I have come to Zion
Alas! The dreamer like Jonah
Quietly slipped away to Tarshish

I do not know when
The ancient serpent would spit out
And allow humans to land
On the universe of the future

The Sidelights of University Anniversary Celebration

I ride a cycle
And write poems of two wheels

One wheel rolling in Egypt
Regarding the law as alien
The other rolling in Babylon
The theory of language and literature still known today

Encountered the fifteen-year-ago dean on the upslope
Who said you have a tummy as soon as he saw me
And looked me in the face
Like an old fortune teller by the roadside
Saying mysteriously a stomach of social status

Later met the twenty-year-ago-director of the Department Who looked straight at my belly with a smile
I told him this is the belly full of the scroll
Can be taken up to the space to develop the universe

Just came across the classmates thirty years ago at the cross
We shook hands
Many faces could not be recognized
As if stamped with the postmarks of years

I walked and thought, thought and murmured
If only they could be marked with the seal
of the sky

During the lunch we lifted hands to vote
For a Thailand Tour to observe the graduation of thirty years
I didn't want to hold up
Or to see a two-in-one
As so many minds are torn in three or four

But the officer's wife to right of me
And the woman officer to left of me
Grabbed my hands to point upward

Thus the hand of democracy was raised

Five heavy smokers sat next to the window
The whole room braved the bitter smoke
Like the dust and sulphur of Edom

Puffs from their mouths
Seem to swallow up or ignite
A world of smog

Now with students twenty years ago in the bar

Sitting in front of a variety of voices and faces
Failed to recognize anyone

Zhao, good at hosting from beginning to end
Was a wonderful show

I heard a voice of the dark
Got up and disappeared

Leaving the two wheels to their present

The Selfish Heart and the Snake

Destined to be selfish is he of the residue of the spirit
With a cunny snake crawling on his belly

The road his life zigzags along
Can never be away from a story
With a selfish heart none can see
His own problems

The strifes and wars of human kind
Have afflicted us each

In the cool of the day the shadows flee away
Selfs put on the tree of good and evil
With birds living in its boughs
And beasts having shade under it

When the eye of selfishness was opened
There is nakedness everywhere
Hard for civilizations to cover
Generation after generation

Selfish motives mixed up with language and literature
Fill the dust fully grown with thorns and thistles

It is the field Adam ploughed
It is the body his descendants tilled
They worked so tearfully
Yet failed to wash away their selfishness

Therefore come our sufferings
Ans disasters or catastrophes
Even man is beig swallowed by his self and snakes

An International Circus

Those confined in earth
Were performing various kinds of flights

They were swinging high up in the air
They were falling down from the roof

In the end the audience was invited
To jump into their designed trap

They seem to wake them up
Or rather, to put them back to dream

The most catching of that night was
The madness of the three motors chasing one another
In a cage-like globe

Their gyration
Gripping tighly
Our internal death
And quiet

And those women
Suspended within a snare in the air

Were slowly
Carried above the heads of the audience to the stage

They were struggling all the time
As if violience was being done to them

In danger they burst into a rendition of life experience
With stunts they monkeyed with the nihility of the world

The secular civilization, alas
Seems to be like a circus

Chao's Poetics
The poem begins with an excellent mind
The poet saw things pass through himself
And land on the palm of the sun
The poet must forget
To pass through the wall
Through the closed door

Poets must still be silent and even hold their breath
Let the robbers fall into the trap of the language
In short there must be some control
In case the locusts that came out of the bottomless pit
Like scorpions sting
Leaving your whole back of the head
Caught in the paws of sleeplessness

The poem must begin from an excellent state
To be like a surfer
Standing on the crest of the steep waves
Jumping on the earth
To take the theme captive

Writing poetry makes a person light
It is another way of bungee jumping
Is a tongue tasting voice
And the breath of a language looking for a poet

Writing poetry you die to yourself
In order to have another
And a great life
Hold you up
Make you walk on the high
To loose the world

You are gone
You are
An incarnation of power
You are
Poetry in the flesh

I saw a crow fly into the poetry of Chao
Who opened the wings of the morning

The crow flying out of the ark
Whose voice hoarse broke
A jar full of night
The crow alights in front of me

He is the deep and transparent pupil of Chao
Knows everything
Through the woods
And the bread he carried to Elijah
Now fills
My belly

I saw Chao's poems come out of the cave
They stood on the hill dancing in the wind
And in the collapse of rocks
A tiny voice was heard-
The voice
Which is the kernel of the crow
The quality of the universe

I never dreamed of the playful actor
Who at a time of extreme exhaustion
Chose to read Chao's poetry

He said: Chao's poems can be refreshing
They tend to catch a lock of his hair
Make him like a kite
Fly into the sky

He said: the poetry of Chao is not realistic
Can call the realistic to be surrealiistic
The human plight is so realistic
As to lose their reality
So their hairs
Are blown away by the wind

And sloppily they grow a body of flesh
Trapped in the pit
Bogged down in the mud

Too late to say goodbye
Before another generation was delivered-
A mixture of sperm and egg

I asked God to roam with me
Fom heart to heart by writing poems
My recent stuff becomes obscure
More obscure than ten years ago
More symbolic than symbolism

After all there are many things
Can't be spoken in any other way
Than to deploy a series of images
So that those who are comfortably well-off
Can enter the aesthetic of language
To meditate and ponder

I asked God to be with me on the tramp
Because writing involves the exile of the soul
I'm afraid to be worse in this exile
Than a cattle who knows its owner
An ass its stable
Yet I forget God

A giant star is flying towards me
He is the star from of old
The offspring
And the root of David

I am in a good position to be on the alert.
Like a goalkeeper
The scroll full of my belly
I'm going to hold him
Hold him tight
Until the promised child
Is birthed

Hit by the star
You have no choice
But become a star
But remember: Your glory
Is a shoot issued
from the root of Jesse

The City

The dark was crunching on bones with the mouth of a dog
A crackling noise, and the filthy air
Down and out on the stiff ground

An overpass, over an overpass
An underground, under an underground

Those digging after their own ways
Sank deeply and helplessly into a wandering life
While up in the height they run at a full speed of nothingness

Those homebound commuters queued up in long lines
Goaning yawning with a facial force out of control
Like the roving lion invisible
Swallowing the whole world

Those neon lights were trying to be drunk
Or sensationalized in a lusty way
As a dyed-numb dream

For the sake of their survival buses begin to move
slowly, a pace in funeral parlour

Taxies, trucks, private cars, tricycles and bicycles
And modified motors, with a whirlpool
Of milling people wrapped up in memory-
Searching for the mother's hand
In the old age of the city

【At Dawn】

The east wind was wrestling with the forest
overnight, and the tribe of Jacob limped
at dawn. The wounding was a blessing
and the healing was the earnest begging

At dawn the standard bearer faints
and the morning star arises

The number of such can be counted
even by an infant

An Appointment

Night, I've decided to run away
To pursue the open book and the light in the heart of the moon
To elude the wrath of the future

Golden idols silver idols I make with my understanding
I'll throw to the field mice and the bats

I say I have to go. If you like
We can make an appointment
Under the secret place
Of the Big rock

【The Child and the Man】

Flourishing with her hands
the child is crazy about the stars
awarded by her teachers

The man is keen on the morning star
arising in his heart
which is his teacher and light

【Sitting Alone】

Sitting alone like Abraham
I plead in heart

feeling the weight of power
muscular like a boulder-

the spiritual rock
the everlasting rock

Listening to Rain

Standing in the sound which beats the world
to enter the depths of the language
and become the pillar of the temple

The rain from heaven tells the story above
cannot be comprehended by hard hearts

Those who chew
will be born from the rain

【The Moon Festival】

A desolate planet
is a longing land tonight
in the possession of light

Diasporas of the earth
gaze upwards wondering-
when shall we meet up there
to repose our heads?

【The Moon Festival】

A stone rejected by builders
shines fully in the heavens
bringing a nation into unity
in the form of a family


Read aloud
to disturb the deep night
Make it split in fission
and become the children of the day
Let those in the grave
break out of the shell
To welcome the thunder

We must stand with the cloud
to witness the breath of the wind
which blows onto the bones of the wilderness
till the bones grow out flesh ribs and skins
and become a great army
To battle it out
with human enemies

I tell you
the louder the voice the mightier
the might to create the worlds
to make the universe rumble
in its expansion
Cheering like the Galaxy


新华字典查询提示 提示:不明白的汉字去 新华字典搜索下。  

  •   鉴赏、评论:
  •   juliotulipan     2011/9/8 21:55:33     3 楼

  • 拜读了!如果诗友有更好的外国原创诗,请多发表些,cheers!
  •   juliotulipan     2011/9/8 21:52:24     2 楼
  • 送了5朵鲜花
  •   查实     2011/9/5 22:44:20     1 楼
  • 送了5朵鲜花