"Asking the Sky."
"Tonight, a confusion of rain.
Fresh breezes leaf through the book.
Dictionaries swell with implication,
forcing me into submission.
Memorizing ancient poems as a child,
I couldn't see what they meant, and stood
at the abyss of explication for punishment.
Bright moon, sparse stars, out of those depths
a teacher's hands give directions
to the lost, a play of shadow mocking our lives.
People slide down the slope of education on skis.
Their story slides beyond national boundaries.
After words slide beyond the book,
the white page is pure amnesia.
I wash my hands clean and tear it apart.
The rain stops."
I say a few words about this poem.
Professor Fong just mentioned when she was young,
she was forced to memorize classical poems.
Yeah that is a typical Chinese customs and tradition.
In that way, I hated poetry when I was little.
You have to force something you don't understand at all.
So this poem is kind of the irony,
you can see it's the relationship between poetry
and my life, my childhood.
问天
今夜雨凌乱
轻风翻书
字典旁敲侧击逼我就范
从小被补失不得要领
禅寺的深渊旁我被罚站
月朗星系
老师的手从中指点迷津
引致戏仿人生
有人在教育的斜坡上滑雪
他们的故事滑出国界
词滑出了书
白纸是遗忘症
我洗净双手撕碎它
雨停