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Omen 2018-02-11 23:10:10

Omen

I was on a bus yesterday. 
An old woman went on the bus
She started to say something
Again and again 
At first people thought she was praying 
Then we got what she was repeating 

We know who you are 
We know where you live
There is no more forgiving 
Again 

People got the message 
They started to back away from her
Fortunately the bus was not crowded
There was plenty of space to back away

But the earth is getting more and more crowded 
The very rich may back away 
To the Mars
Where can the rest of us back away to?























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女儿初为人母 2018-02-04 20:11:28

女儿生孩子前几天写的


When I was little, my mother would paint the most beautiful landscapes onto our bedroom walls. Lush jungles of animals and nature, with corresponding names in English and Chinese. I remember one huge glass living room window in Singapore, where she spent weeks creating these beautiful wall stickers. A gorgeous spread of red flowers and green leaves, and, of course, their labelled names. Matter of fact, she labelled everything! Little cue cards covered the house - cupboard, table, chair, bed, mirror, sink, you name it, she labelled it.
I was having conversations with adults by one and reading not long after. And it took me nearly twenty-four years to really, sincerely thank her. My mother and father both — they were such. great. parents — and I never even realized. They devoted so much time to our growth and education and made sure our minds and souls were fed.
We were hungry little beings, always curious and wondering, and they always took the time to answer our 'whys'. Even in my teens, when I would walk in the woods with my father, I would still ask him questions and he would still answer thoughtfully. If he didn't know the answer, he would think hard about it, and come back to me with a possible explanation. He would listen to me, no matter how much I talked, as if I said the most interesting things on the planet. My parents never shushed us or acted too busy for us - we were their number one priority.
This morning we had Sunday brunch with Bear's parents, whom I also adore so deeply. I can't help but feel this explosion of gratitude for the ones who raised my man so sweetly. They shared stories of when he was a mischievous little one (nothing's changed) but also loyal and strong and heart-warming. And I'm already looking forward to the day when our babies call in their own precious families.
Family. It's a word that I know is triggering for some and so undervalued in our current culture. Yet this gift is priceless, the lessons we pass on, if we love and respect each other. My parents were not perfect, by any means, but they taught us to care for each other. And this is what I held on to, in my years of lonely roaming — the faith that I would, one day, have a Family. Where Laughter rang loud. Where Happiness was possible. Where little feet would pitter and patter around...
Family. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm thankful for these people. The ones who raised us so very well and placed us on solid ground. This morning I sketched out a little educational card for Baby with our family tree. And I realized it's exactly the kind of thing my mother once did for me. So much of me is who I am because of the devotion and guidance of my parents. And I'm only just starting to comprehend the love that they have for me.
Now I'm sitting here crying because I'm almost forty weeks pregnant and hormones and parents and everything. A few years ago I didn't even talk to my parents and now they'll soon be visiting. And I'm so grateful to my Baby for helping me to understand how much Love was always here with me.
I've always been Loved. 
I've always been Love. 
And that will never leave me











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Weather and climate 2018-02-03 19:33:17

Weather and Climate 

When we meet acquaintances, we often talk about weather. This is the topic least likely to offend people. Are there topics more important than weather? Of course there are, such as politics. But talking about politics will easily offend others, especially in a diverse population.

Today’s western world is very diverse. There is little common interest. Talking about weather, or climate, is the least offensive topic. One might argue climate change is a controversial topic. Well, try something else. You’ll know climate change is the least offensive topic. We are simply talking about weather, or climate. And we pretend we are discussing something truly significant.





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Ruler 2018-02-02 20:10:56

Ruler

A ruler rules
A ruler measures

A ruler
who rules
Becomes the ruler
Which measures









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老三的一篇短文 2018-01-31 07:46:52

I grew up on the rhymes of Dr. Seuss. The rhythm and sounds of the rhymes rolled off the tongue in a sing song fashion. Although I didn't fully comprehend the real world meanings behind the stories, just listening to my dad say the wild, wacky words sent little sparks of joy through my mind.


I was never the strongest English student. The "right answer" wouldn't come to me the way it did in science and math. The first time I enjoyed writing was in second grade. The poetry unit taught me that I had a knack for rhyming things, but I never thought much of it.


Fast forward to middle school. My best friend and I wrote raps for fun, and most open ended school projects would be a live performance of the Asian Eminems. I loved rapping, but I had no desire to take my words farther than the classroom.


In my first year of high school, I was anything but outspoken. I had so many thoughts inside of me but I lacked the self confidence to speak out. Meanwhile, poetry club gathered for the first time at Gleneagle Secondary. I joined, hoping that I could learn from the senior poets in my school. They taught me how to improve my poems, but more importantly, they taught me how to express myself. Performance was a moment in time when everyone was willing to listen to what I had to say, and because of that, I treasured the moments I was on stage. Eventually, I was able to take that confidence with me into everyday conversations. Through the school team, I was able to take part in Hullabaloo, the provincial spoken word tournament. It was a mad scramble of workshops and bouts and showcases that left me itching to improve. Through the connections I made at Hullabaloo, I was invited to perform poetry, from elementary school show cases, to local charity performances, to the Richmond World Festival.

Stepping into an unknown world of spoken word gave me confidence beyond the stage. I developed the know how to speak in all kinds of situations. Spoken word ended up helping a quiet boy speak up.






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Winter night in the north 2018-01-29 16:21:11

Winter night is long

My longing for you is longer

You are long long away

Long and distant

 

How I wish to be close to you

But you are closed to me

How I wish to touch you

But you are out of touch

 

Winter night is long

My longing for you is longer

You are long long away

Long and distant

 



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An Old Car 2018-01-28 15:52:00

An Old Car


It has run

All its life

It has run out 

Its life 


It tries hard to cough out 

Its exhaust 

It is completely 

Exhausted 


All the burdens on the tires 

They are very tired 

Carrying the load for so long 

They want to retire






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Snow 2018-01-26 20:54:08

           Snow


White white snow 

Bury all my sorrow 

Clear up old memory 

Start a fresh tomorrow 


翻译: 杭州阿立

洁白白雪柔,埋尽几多愁。

别去牵心忆,清新好起头。





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My Dear Sun 2018-01-22 19:37:02

My dear sun: Winter sun in deep north 

You come up so late in the morning 
You are leaving so early in the afternoon 
Could you, would you 
Stay a little bit more 

The winter night is long
The winter night is cold
The winter night is lonely 
The winter night is depressing 

But it is winter,
Said my sun
Don’t you remember summer time 
It was not long ago

I was around all day long 
I shine the house
I warm the lawn
I follow you everywhere 

Thank you and good night 
My dear sun

P.S. In deep north, winter day is very short and summer day is very long.






























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When 2018-01-20 17:19:52

When we stop to generate 
Soon we start to degenerate 

When we stop to explore 
Soon we have to implore 

When we stop honing our skill 
Soon we become a kill

When we stop delivering result
Soon we’ll be receiving insult

When we abandon our instinct
Soon we’ll be extinct 

When we ignore intuition 
Soon we’ll have to pay high tuition 

















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