Skip to main content

On return to the nature walk at Lu-Ye Heights

on return to the nature walk at Lu-Ye Heights
the path to the valley has deteriorated over seven years
unkempt, unswept, strewn with nature's debris
composted leaves obscuring the cement stairway
joyful color tiles of commemorative messages we tried to decipher
now shadows of snakes lurking in overhanging vines
downward and downward to what was beautiful
could not now, reassessed, turned from the sublime
i could see how, left unattended
the winding path that continues to wind
has no more good destination
that timelessness left behind with beauty
somewhere between wastefulness and duty
on nature's trail to pools of algae
by a hobo's hut long abandoned
near rusty chicken wire pen long emptied
has nothing kind but an obscene feeling
one cannot return to the beginning
the trees remaining creak in the breeze
hollowed rotten bamboo bent browned by age
concrete banister moldy with ants scurrying up and down
and testimonial plaques once hanging between slats
fallen to the path, faced down, with nothing to be heroic about
in adventures un-recreated
only archived in our minds with photographic memory
in a place better left to bedsitters needing reminiscences
before passing on
but it doesn't help they young at heart
to glance too long when the future beckons
with pineapples in the field ripe and picked
only their tops remaining replanted
for next season's crop to grow again
in the circle game
May be an image of nature and tree
Bennett Wp Chen, Bennett Chen and 1 other

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On the Road Again

    See Live First Rendition Here If I say it once, I’m thinking aloud. If I say it twice, I probably like the sound. Three times said, you know I’d be glad. When the fourth time comes, she’d better run. I take the fifth for what I’d do If my desires don’t come true. Multiplied by ten, I’m on the road again. Life is too short to be faking All the love we should be making. When I picked you out, you knew what to do, When you chose me, you certainly could see I wasn’t one who’d regret what I’d done Following the world around the sun, That’s how it was back then. Now I’m on the road again. We never should retire when life inspires. Never look away when love comes to play. It’s better to feel wanted than taken for granted. Plants need watering to grow where they are planted, Or else they wither and blow away, Scattering seeds somewhere another day, Another place conductive to stay, A place to grow a new stem, I’m on the way; on that road again. It is no use sitting around and wond...

Biking Taitung and Beyond

Waves crash the shore at every bikeway spur fisherman wondering if they'll catch more surprises to the menu like paths of Taitung that lead around the city might catch something unexpected on abandoned railroad lines that cross downtown streets as we cycle discovering what is pretty with no destination out of reach, locally we move on byways and paths and dream of overseas rides into black forests and Amsterdam streets Moroccan tundras American Appalachian trails British Wessex Hardy excursions and Paris Versailles in the French Countryside riding discovering like climbing peaks for no other reason than that they're there so we go and watch the trees bending saying hello on paths on Taitung city roads And when we return to home body studying languages, expanding horizons, Dutch and Mandarin, English and French on a desk in a study or living room on the internet with friends oh the daily life of simple people living and loving without greed or contempt is the life I choose to fo...

The Mantra of the Air Con

  The mantra of the air con  When I call on it to brisk me Wakeful eyes stare at bedroom skies It comes alive with wishing sounds Of the coolest oscillation in my head The smooth machine friendly bed partner When I'm alone with the light red   Oh it is winding up the spiral helix  Rising the whistle of excitement As I lie grabbing anything too cold To not let me fall through the soggy bottom Of lukewarm loneliness and despondency  Sharing the platform with freedom and liberty Going hand in hand with my singularity   How wonderful it would feel to wrap My arms around your wing'ed flaps Touch your goosebumped body As air con envelops us in a cocoon  Makes us smooth, sleek    Your breath in my ear not cold or metallic But pleasing and steady with regular humanity   The steady hum of the air con turns me on Back up through the stages I descend Cool air heights of the pen in hand Living in t...