Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Ode to Jesus

Ode to Jesus
Laijon Liu 2014.11.11

DNA, protein and RNA
Together they form chromosomes
Universe is created upon its law
thru Love all life happens and exists
St. John wrote: “In the beginning was the Word,
And the Word was with God,
And the Word was God,
He was with God in the beginning.”

A man stood on Jordan’s bank 2000 years ago
He ate wild honey, he wore camel hair
He was there to testify for the light, you
And thru light that darkness men shall see
Old rituals must be replaced by new baptism
That water cannot cleanse spirit and hearts
Men must repent to believe the good news
Men must practice good, and pursue truth

Is the world really around 6000 years?
I want to be truthful to my doubts
Creationism is a part of human evolution
That men exploring new ways to comprehend
Teachers of the law, scare children to comply
Religion and science are all man’s making
I love how you summarize the scrolls of scribes:
Love God and love our neighbor

God, what is God? Hmmm-
God is good; God is Love; God is Unknown;
God is the maker of heavens and Earth;
God is the Force; God is the Source;
God is One over zero, undefined in Math.
God is that initial warm fuzzy radiance
perceived in visual cortex of our brain
so we regain consciousness and ask questions.

Our neighbor, Earth, this sexy blue planet
we call Her our home, every stem and every leaf
shows evidence of your grand design
your hands tender, care, your scientific work
call the fishermen, share loaf, wine and fish
how provocative is your concept of peace
all men are bothers, and women are sisters
rulers, judges and priests are the targets to save.

God’s business scares the shit out of slave masters
They gonna loose their vineyards and wealth
They must give up their influence and corporal liberty
Soldiers, cops and taxmen to serve the mob?
And politicians become truthful and humble?
Children are getting the best education?
Old and sick obtain Senate healthcare…
Your mission sounds like judgment day in a pipe dream.

It’s more sensible to believe other matters than you.
Aliens hover above earth, vampires and zombies rise
Ghosts haunt ruler and prince on Shakespeare’s stage
Santa Claus, Virgin Mary’s pregnancy, resurrection
Who knows, maybe God only exists in storytelling
to prevent our ancestors sacrificing their children
Primitive folks need a deity to abide social order
Because of the big bad wolf, so all fearful boys to behave

I, believe you, because of your concept and belief
Stirring clear water so it becomes sweet wine
Stepping on rolling waves, law of gravity redefined
Lost vision can be restored, broken arm can be healed
Men no longer have to submit to their reality and old ways
Men can believe, work, reach dreams, and share
Men no longer fear of lost, death or hell
Men can quit roughhouse, and set their hearts on skies.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Thru Wormhole Into Blackhole

Thru Wormhole Into Blackhole
Laijon Liu 20140807

Dream is a white beam into dark space

grave stones know our names
flames lust for our body
grievance must get on its journey
to fill this immense universe

somewhere guitar strings still vibrate
rippling piano keys keep echoing
us and the past scatter in dark
stars dust everywhere

Yes, I do believe fairytale
because it drives me to climax

but please take off your pilot sunglasses
when you are on top of me
I want to see your eyes

I like to play chess, do you?
Chinese chess pins all its pieces
on the spots of crossing lines,
Western chess let each piece share
equal square of its space.

I know pain does not kill me
I've learned to endure
and be numb

this vessel is filled with germs and virus
but I look calm and carry on

Earth used to be a sapphire jewel
But now it’s just a speck on canvas

Cheap labor, cheap material
Today, we call it competitiveness

Leeches, parasites
I despise them all

But I do respect them on one aspect:
They work in unity

I think I still dream, do you?
Is my question too heavy on your heart?

I keep singing the old songs
"I want to change the world~"
my hands massage my dead crotch non-stop.

*Lyric adapt from "I'd love to change the world"

China is a refurbished vase in fresh paint
it's sold as new, as all its product 'made'

like the truth we've been told everyday
we all know the meaning of fiction and non-fiction
but no one can tell the difference.

People are too serious about what they believe
like Milky Way won’t collide with Andromeda

but I believe poetry and liquor
both make me loose and blurry
remind me this world is insensible

atoms and electrons combine
structured hydrogen, oxygen and carbon

circling lights pass thru a wormhole
become a solitary mass:
cells, sperms, eggs

chubby cuddly babies, muscular heroic nude
caressed by fingertips and raindrops
then offered to a marble alter

eroding wind softly sings

mirror reflects an image
pale wall conveys meditation and imagination

icy snow weighs down red roses
crows hovering above well

you’ve never been bitten by a flamboyant snake
you’ve never been mauled by a ferocious lion

as a survivor I can tell you
I don’t stereotype animals by their nature
but their similar culture still creeps me out

I assume monkeys do not play tricks
they don’t possess our skills
of making a rope or start a fire

with all our technologies and survival device
we’ve built cities more than jungles
but why we are still naked and afraid?

they pay you ice cream money but demand for a cake;
they pay you minimum one time delivery fee
but you must lift up a box for 500 times;
they ask you to join their no-pay internship
so you can gain more practical experience for future…
we all know the names of their business:
global corporations, small business and brothels.

Ancient Chinese wisdom were
Confucius and Book of 300 Odes;
Modern Chinese wisdom are
Art of War and 36 Stratagems
That’s how gentlemen become ravenous wolves

If I see wolves, I know RUN! is the best choice.

I often watch Charlie Rose Interviews
A poet must learn the world from business perspective 

Successful corporal CEOs and politicians in suit
take turn to propagate their ideas and visions

Yadi yada, blah, blah…
Yeah, I see mosquitoes scanning for a blood pool
and a bedbug climbing into full moon

Do you think cockroaches consider themselves as cockroach?
They eat, swarm, mate, and migrate like us, countless.

I sprayed them with 91% Isopropyl
and they struggled and crawled til dead on the stove

I think they can also feel pain like we do
but they don’t bear debt, tax,
and have no low wage and high competition problems.

Children of the world-

Pull dolls sit and learn in classrooms
Work force in mines and factories
Strong and brave freedom fighters
Human shields, prostitutes, and refugees…
the list of their names goes on

Often I wonder
maybe all of the world problems
are caused by bad parenting.

I’m running out of patience
I couldn’t care less
about building subtle verse or suspense

I’d prefer a more direct approach
It exerts more power
and saves us time and energy.

long ivory elephant teeth
for beautiful carving art pieces,
mythical healing power
of rhino horns and tiger bones,
curling, bend up, twisted
shapes of tortured living branches…

Ah, our tradition is so primitive

I want to wear a skull necklace
and pour a bowl of infant blood
to call back the visions:
the agonizing call of an elephant calf,
and marathon romance of gentle bulls.

Business for the cavemen
is to exchange what they need;
Business for corporal bosses
that they trade for their greed.

America, you land of free
you are beautiful and bountiful!
you fought away the British king,
but you sill slave in a capitalist’s neck ring!

You spend 2 days planning your Halloween costume
those comic heroes or princess dresses in fairytales
You don’t need to prepare a speech about yourself
just knock on the door and say “trick-or-trade”

I wish job interviews can be simple as that
4 year college prepares you to speak as a field journalist
business suit and leather shoes wrapped you like sardine can
and if you were lucky, your wage could afford Walmart candies.

I never skip career advice articles on the news media websites

The college degrees won't help you to land a job:
Fine Art

The college degrees will help you to live easily:
Business Management
Software Program

See kids, the future is designed for house slaves and robots.

Billionaires, they are considered as successful people
often give graduation speech
respond young people letters with their career life advice
and act like saviors of our economy
so I pen down advice to billionaires:

1) Give a raise to all your employees,
they deserve fair payment.
2) Shut up giving advice to young people,
remember, you are a bad role model!

My new thoughts on poetry:
It begins with splash of powerful emotion
and distilled a few drops of meditation
finally arrives at serenity and silence.

So poets do not die, they simply return to quietness.

home to most people is a safe room
it shelters them from this chaotic society

but some homes are dark torture chambers
that showcase tragedy on stage every night

abusive father and ignorant mom reign
their kids to play the usual victim roles

altercations are their daily scripts
highlights of martial art fists and kicks

so teenage kids run away from danger
hang out with friends in the street corners

Mozart cannot overpower gangster rap
lessons under street lamp train boys to be a men

prison, deals gone bad, or shot by cop
news repeats itself in a same storyline:

teenage kids out at night running,
running, running till dead by gunshots

no afterschool programs or night classes to save them
nearby churches are closed, no place to hide or to run.

*Children are punished for their parents' irresponsibility
and police's job is to apprehend criminal by force
only teachers and social workers can save our kids
but school and help sessions are M-F 9am-4pm.

Racism dresses in all kind of skin color
to protect its organs of fundamental belief

ignorance, interests and profit distribution
among those easily identified social groups

deserted land of native, white trash trailer park
laundry men in Chinatown, black kids crossing street

they always walk ahead of us, block our traffic
shape their class warfare into an ethnic conflict

Have you ever had following sensations at workplace?

you bulge your eyes to swallow and suffocate
you act calm and try not to moan, O that bellyful ache!
you frown and endure that constant pain in the ass

and there's a bulletin of dos and donts hanging on the wall:

Don't ask for a proper recompense
Don't compare to other job places
Don't say: “Those Are Not My Job.”

that's how they run business model today
turn employees to soldiers and sex slaves
that's how we've all got that thousand-yard stare.

Can you get a good full night sleep nowadays?
Most of us can't, insomnia caused by stresses

past due bills, unpaid debts, project deadlines,
low income, rising prices, still looking for a job?

and other part world: rocket shots, bombs explode
corruptions, inflations, incursions, spread of infections...

TV news shows you some edited video highlights
and reports the numbers of dead; noise, death is part of living

I bet you want to move your family to a mountain
be a hermit, grow your own organic food, enjoy peace

but the property price and tax are pumped up so high
the global warning and gas corps drilling amok...

finally you somehow find a secluded jungle
become a good neighbor of monkeys

and you will hear them all day calling and fighting
for trees and branches, for fruits and mates

it's been that way since the beginning, for 30 million years
they just won't get along; oh! A good night sleep is luxury.

Ecology: in Greek, a study of house;
in Chinese, a beautiful garden of balanced elements

mountains, rivers, streams and plants we maintain
so we can calculate seasons and winds in our heart

shoot some rabbits to keep the pasture green
drive away wolves to protect deer population

neuter pets, contraception, double condoms...
we've invented so many ways to control our numbers

But in these shark and whale infested waters
the primary consumers will never prosper.

longing, yearning, uncontrollable urges
we are so addicted and attached to illusions

current living, to a few is a slow torturing death
so poets say suicide is art; many forage like stray dogs

cigarette, steak, scotch, shape of women's ass
young men glide their floating years in white bubbles

scientists staring into telescope and microscope
like our kids glue their eyes to video game tv screens

new release of brand name gadgets and social apps
wired our heads, so we all prisoners of our own device

love for poetry screwed my career and wallet
O Soccer! My fractured tendons never heal

money, power, nation pride and religious superiority
vain values are so realistic that drive us like demons

they force us to chant, to behead, to be martyrs...
humanity is a herd of howling pigs running off cliffs.

Song of White Bones

I am one and many
I supported you and Earth
our affair is but a moment
before I lie with the soil

My bleached body
tested by iron and fire
scatters mysteries of the past,
floating sand rubs my ribs

grass sprouts out of my skull
and streams bathe my spine
O, be gentle, you combat boots
do not crush my memories

Law of Nature

Lions rule buffaloes
tigers prey on deer
wolves kill sheep
eagles catch cranes

the world is constructed by
rulers and commons
masters and servants
kings and their slaves

emperors and their royals
are beneficiaries of kingdoms
voted presidents and senators
are servants of our real rulers

truth is eternal, value eternal
only name and label change
only one clue leads to Minotaur and exit:
Follow the money.

Vantage Points

At night,
a man walks his dog in Capitol Hill Folger Park.

He tosses a tennis ball,
his dog chases, nibs it
and runs back to him wagging its tail.

He says: “Good Dog!”
and takes the ball, tosses it again.
After a few rounds,
he feeds his dog a piece of beef jerky and continues.

Men own dogs for many reasons
friendship, loyalty, fun gaming
or hunting ability of their legs and teeth;
but dogs see all our tasks as collaboration.

Dream is a word gets you there
dream is a word draws us here
but you know sometimes
that words have two, many meanings

you see a sign on the wall
and its glitters all in gold
but once you've climbed the unending stairway
you'll see the heaven door is closed

misgiven thoughts, two pathways intertwined
one leads to a dense fog, another to a lifeless pond
fish float in bubbles, toads blow pink smoke
I can only stare and wonder, ponder and laugh

Oh, I so want to be a soldier
fighting like you, like all of us
been fighting for so long
feel that moment of thrill
let go that sudden rush
capture trophies, tripods and young maids...
quit holding my small dick
watching the porn queen gets fucked.

*Dream is the most powerful brand name Word ever in every human culture, it contains most magical magnetic property in its meaning, it foretells dynasty and individual's fate in past, and leads young men to sacrifice their life and gets young women to lie in our bed. It gives us hope, satisfies our undying desire, redefines mundane illusions to concrete beliefs, and transcends our life value beyond all human sufferings. Beware of Dreams; Beware to Dream.

Soldier, yes, we all are
if we love or dream...
if we hate or believe...
then we all fight 'good' fight of our faith

Our ancestors fashion spears and knives
now we've developed nukes and drones
chimps in African jungles still kill in raids
first law of evolution: survive the fittest

if we men want to live, then we must fight
“Love, Peace & Share” Jesus sounds like hippies
history shaped by wars, boarders drawn by swords
corpses in dirt, young men can't wait to die

we fight for our country, religion, and land
we fight for our tradition, language, and system
soldiers in multitude so bravely march and vanished
yet so few willing to fight for their rights:
[Right of Prosperity and Right of Happiness]


Kings pass down their kingdom and reign
Rich leave their children wealth and choices
Priests bless their sons with holy book
Moms share their love tales with their daughters
what poor commons pass down to their children?
Poverty, struggle, maybe a far away hope or faith?

My father was born of a poor household
China commies brainwashed their mind
so he quit his school, became a child-worker
a child-farmer, a beach forager, a potato picker
he has nothing but dreams and battle stories
So I've decided, I pass down to my children nothing

massive blocks of chicken cage shelves
countless frightened popping eye balls
endless rolls of bird-heads up and down 
meat cut in chunks, wrapped in plastic bags

pigs rolling in mud, their body parts entangled
comforting, like how we hold each other sleep
hundred thousands orgy hippies lie on a pasture
they were drunk, stoned and hopeful

I guess everything is industrialized now
old countryside farms become factories
we shoot up, and mix meds with science
no drama or philosophy, only life thru production

cruelty and ignorance parade hand in hand
I'm not talking about suicide bomb and beheading

I'm talking about people who stuff animal in cages
live-skin dogs and boil live pussycats
people who survive on scrabbling trash piles
believe their babies are gifts from God...

those brain disease are difficult to treat.

when light bounces off a surface
an image shown in our mind's eye
our perspective organ distributes
so each object receives its property

Diamonds, gold studs and black crystals
products are tagged with market price
their difference is never skin-deep
their colors are either rich or poor

everything we do changes us
bits and bytes of our deeds and thoughts

little by little we endure
and endure more
little by little we gain or let go
little by little we become cold and numb
or keep fanning that small fire pit
til we accept reality
or bring on suicidal act

to live is a slow inescapable painful process
but I still believe we can choose
Decay or Distill

most people can climb Mount Everest and safely return
if they willing to wear a 40lb weight vest for half year.

The cost is $50,000 for guides, Sherpas and base camps
the summit rate is 30%, and fatality rate is 5%

it's easy to prepare physical condition and mental toughness
because they never have to pay up $40,000 every year

to memorize calculus formulas, periodical charts, cram books
every week, and washing 6 hour dish every night for 6 years

climb Mt Everest is a teamwork with plenty oxygen bottles
to graduate college is a mental and physical self-torture

on that icy slippery pathway they desperately hold on a rope
they may die by fall, or the cold wind makes them numb

or they can drag their heavy corpse, try to resuscitate it
night after night till their lungs take a deep breath again

who knows how long they must strive to return with all 10 fingers,
the drop out rate is way staggering compare to summit rate.

Political Reality

Two bold bald heads quarrel on the Idol Stage
one is a bad liar
another good at lie
they are sponsored by one donor;
Tweedledum and Tweedledee :D

they sing their battle hymns
one trumpets [Pro-Life]
another brays [Pro-Choice]
and the poor faithfuls can only vote to Pro-
but gain Nothing Else :-(

I'm Pro-Both, Aren't You?
I want to be a real Citizen, not Slave
I don't want to suffer and be broke,
and been lied to all my life,
You think our wish can come true?

My mom tells me to endure
“Son, you must accept Fate.”
My father tells me to Strive
“Only harsh life survives harsh land.”
yeah, like I would skip a lottery chance.

* real citizens have life&choice, slaves no matter what they do don't.

Thoughts on James Bond

He is a handsome man with self-taught kungfu
an orange life buoy or a red parachute
when the world order is at grim stake
he in his tailor-made suit pops out from nowhere

he wears a burgundy polka dots bow-tie
by the dealer table counting aces and queens
hot babes in party gowns sitting on the bar stools
stirring their cups with straw, expecting him

his reticent killing charm, deadly serious
multi-language reader, not good at British humor
he rules rough men with his effeminate handgun
conquers ladies all over the world with his nibbling kiss

O, romance with intensity, he has invented and perfected
turning spy women to purring pussycats at night
without any effort or deep meaningful conversation
and by daybreak, not a hair trace on that empty bed

London, Paris, Venice, Berlin, New York, Moscow...
all there famous cities are his living rooms
he combs the streets, pictures every corner and rooftop
past operations interweave new acquaintances

He seems never run out of money, never pay by cash
load of high tech gadgets and that Astin Martin car
he is probably an 1%er, or MI6 needs corruption hearing
yet no one beats his exit plan and disappearing act

he's been touring around the world for 60 years
gathering intelligence, fighting evil governments
but the world aint get any better, could be worse, skyfall
Soviet still gasping, China a rogue state, rich & poor gaps

is he still hopeful and certain for the great cause?
or he just needs this job to make himself feel great?
does his free government still serve its people?
or he don't give a damn about his martini shaken or stirred.

sing a song for our Mustang car
a fine stallion in its shape and name
tune that radio from rock to rap
O, our sweet home on a broad road

sing a song for our Mustang car
American model of young and pride
from HS years to old man's garage
O, our sweet memories and pastime

sing a song for our Mustang car
it's an awesome gift from dad to son
the check engine light is on now
and we change the oil filter, drive on

It's year 2014 on planet Earth.
a gallon of milk costs $3.99
a dozen of cage-free chicken eggs cost $4.99
potato 59c/lb, onion 69c/lb, apple $1.29/lb
US Federal minimum wage is $7.25/hr
how much is your monthly rent fee
and annual car maintenance cost?

The American unemployment rate is 7%
and 27% population need Federal food aid
they get to feed themselves and their kids
but they can't afford a house or go anywhere
after long hours of daily work, they stand
in long lines of food stamp registers, and above them,
an all-seeing eye of gold pyramid is watching.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Governments are built by people
people are constructed by culture
their dwelling place are their mirror;
there are beautiful places and badlands,
walled empires, and democratic-transparent states.

*Hitler was a passionate leader, art-seeking patriot
idealistic, man of his word, self-sacrificial,
but he waged wars and built gas chambers;
Stalin was Allies, he won WW2, drunk himself to death;
Mao was visited by Nixon, his corpse decorated like a savior.
And most politicians are grass standing in winds
they swing left, right, they bend forward, backward...
whatever people want them to say and act, to remain on top.

*if massacre is an Olympic sport,
Mao wins gold, Stalin silver, Hitler bronze.

Violence is beauty
when the weak takes out the strong
Jing Ke scratched the First Emperor's neck
little David cut off giant Goliath's head
small town underdog beats up maestros
it's miracle defeats logic and mathematics
Violence is curse
when the high ranks prey on the lowly
rhinos at workplace, dictators on stage,
police brutality, domestic abuse, animal cruelty
A head of the pride dominates his pack
till he's subdued, then acts like a wounded animal

there're baskets of fruit with only a few rotten
there're baskets of rotten fruit with a few good
babies down in manure pits, kittens float in sewers
dinosaurs flaunt their bicep in muscle competition
beauty pageants, people uphold shame as pride
while I watch these theatrical content in 3D sunglasses
large hot tears well out my wrinkled slant eyes.

living is process of forgetting, so is dying.
billion forms of flu virus mutate and replaced
million rolls of office cubicles entrenched us
vehicle headlights stream thru cities arteries

days, nights, seasons, ever restless
we sleep, and refresh our dream in dawn-light
childhood only stay on glossy paper and screens
and a few highlights concealed by present stress

we stopped to wonder about our future
we can't fully recall the details of our past
routine, pale, sinking, solidity, passing...
only love by our side reminds us existence

Love is addictive, grief is radioactive
down off a dusty tunnel stairs
behind an ancient tombstone
a rusty tool box locked a shabby doll

children are singing their folk rhyme
pirates are guzzling their sweet rum
“Chase the wind, and ride the waves,
on the rocky reef sits a capsized boat.”

a mermaid rises from the deep blue
she glides under the hollow wreckage
and decorates it as her dream home
crescent moon, sapphire waves, her songs.

Capitalism kills Earth (at 3 levels)

God and the laws are properties
heavily guarded with AK-47s
women, oil drills and children too
ready to be discharged like cartridge
-Primitive Level

In the far east Middle Kingdom
a hundred men speak for one billion
labors, soldiers under communist rule
an asset management gone extreme
-Developing Level

Liberty is a billionaire's gold wallet
that pockets scientists and politicians
and shapes his interests into truth
drain the coal mines, and harvest the Sun!
-Top Advanced Level

Realities of Life

Birth, Aging, Sickness, and Death
Buddha frowns and meditates

Hunger, Labor, Pangs, and Despair
Mankind bow down and plow

Prime, Hope, Love, and Struggle
Flowers short-bloom in their seasons

Peace, Chaos, Memory, and Uncertainty
Dandelions scatter and drift in winds

If you've truly grounded in realities
then You know Buddha lived an easy life

stands behind her butcher block

with a cleaver in her right hand
and a weighing scale by her left

she cuts her customers a fair share
according to their rhetoric speech

Our eye distinguishes Black-and-White;
Our mind loves Rich and fears Poor.

Thursday, July 31, 2014

A Small Fighting Bulldog

A Small Fighting Bulldog
Laijon Liu 20140731

I knew a small fighting bulldog when I was a kid
He was timid, proud, lazy and affectionate

but his mama told him the world was rough
and he must train hard and toughen up

so his father disciplined him with a leather belt
the programs they laid on him that he didn’t budge

he had never learned how to win a fight
but he could count beats and hold silence

his little dog house was warm, full of light
that tiny ring swallowed the dark wall corners

every spot was a center stage, anytime
could turn to a training bell ring

his surrender would not end the fight
he shook with fear til it all ended

that poor little bulldog, he loves me
he followed me from China to America

I pity him, and I try to shake him off
His tearing wide eyes begging for my hug

As my hands caress his scars of old and new
He suddenly bites back and runs to the corner

I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t read,
I couldn’t talk to someone or start a meaningful relationship
Coz I see him, he wants my love
He shows me how to deal with bossy and bullies
He guides me how to fight
He is still timid, proud, lazy, and affectionate only to me
I love him, but I wish he is dead.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

First Aid Kit 'My Silver Lining' (acoustic)

Tonight, as usual I was staring my laptop screen while listening the NPR program, got a beautiful song:

First Aid Kit 'My Silver Lining' (acoustic)

the lyric death like poetic, brought my tears out.

keep on going road, that's my silver lining.
sometime the end of road lies not success and blessing, yet we all have to walk on.

Friday, July 25, 2014


Laijon Liu 20140725

You are a self-conscious being
a human being you name yourself
a creature of Supreme Existence
or an intelligent species of evolution

You are man, and close to monkeys
you are religious and scientific
reasonable and radically extreme
you are both the product and its maker

You are a girl, a daughter, and mom
you marry to your father’s will
or brandish your boobs on stage
you are submissive or a revolutionist

You are a boy, a son, and dad
you are born to pass down the legacy
you guard, you fight, you kill and you die
you struggle your life as an actor to his role

In front of mirror you stare at your face
the world and choices suddenly disappear
your makeup and trained beauty concept
like a rainbow dissolves in sunlight

Wind blows to the east and to the west
Green twigs burst out of earth
Settlers sing their fishing songs
You are wandering Gypsy and Vikings at sea

Yes, you are everyone and everywhere
You are pupils and teachers
You are a dreamer and a believer
You are the sunflowers at dawn
the boiling liquid in glass tubes
the amplifiers shouting in front of crowd
you are a sword's handle, a dagger's tip,
a red pill and a blue pill, a launch button….
and you are everything, or anything- But YOU.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Sunday, July 6, 2014

To Giant Panda

To Giant Panda
Laijon Liu 20140706

Beauty is such beauty in fair look,
yet such goodness in beauty's nature,
kind, peaceful, and gentle you are
never intimidating or possess vile deeds,
giant chubby figure, yet never invades space
huge stomach, only appetites for bamboo
how I wish I could be like you
how I wish the world be like you
adore you, adore you not only your look
but your tenderness and your soft hug.

Monday, June 9, 2014

My Faith

My Faith
Laijon Liu 20140609

I love the gossip of Zeus’ affairs
but I don’t believe god can knock up woman

I like vampire and Frankenstein films
but I truly do not see how dead can be alive

Fragrant thin pages illustrate men’s worlds:
cosmos of torments, war, rape, and crimes

And in that mess I see him, his goodness,
his patience, his self-sacrifice, perseveres.

Friday, May 30, 2014

To Brazilian Soccer

To Brazilian Soccer
By Laijon Liu 2014.05.30

You are the best soccer nation on earth
Your classic 70s heroes played like gods
Your 80s stars were artists and rock stars
And you’re all raised by poverty, by poverty.

Your tan skin, long messy hair and beards
Your drum beats, samba dance and tamed ball
Your every move, touch and all gestures are
Beautiful; yet, you’re still goal hungry, goal hungry.


I love Brazilian Soccer. It’s fun, artistic, beautiful and magic. Me and my friends watch Brazil league game whenever goal tv broadcasts, and every time after a beautiful game I feel sad about this great soccer nation that develops so many soccer gods but still cannot conquer poverty, always goal hungry, feel never scored like me. A Brazil street art from yahoo news kind of triggered me for above lines. (see the art below)

Friday, April 11, 2014

Kubla Khan (Chinese Translation) 忽必烈汗

忽必烈汗  Kubla  Khan
原作诗人:塞缪尔•泰勒•柯勒律治  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge(英国)
中文译者:  Laijon Liu 2014.04.11





I love this poem, years ago read it but couldn’t translate it perfectly to Chinese, perfectly meaning the translation must be read like Chinese Poetry in both rhythm and flow of sense, and I read 4 translations by famous scholar translators, not very satisfied for their text accuracy and lack of poetic feel, not their fault, but this is really a strange poem, difficult in structure and sense, sound and image woven perfectly thru sense of its drive, that’s a reason the very famous Romantic Poem not read heard by Chinese, so I must pick up the duty of translation(because my native Chinese still much better than My Style English that I’m trying to create) and I make sure this translation is the best, most musical, accurate, my product fits Samuel’s original poem in his mazy motion spirit.
The first half of this poem is in Classical Chinese poetry form, and second half (It was a miracle of rare device...) in Modern Chinese form that fits poet’s melody and mood shift.

Yellow highlighted character is not in the original poem:

 And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

this part should be done as:

And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

now the 3 Chinese characters fit the English word "War!" with shouting emotion.


--- English and Chinese verse by verse ---

忽必烈汗 Kubla Khan
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
translate to Chinese by Laijon Liu 20140411

(Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.)

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round;
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

   The shadow of the dome of pleasure
   Floated midway on the waves;
   Where was heard the mingled measure
   From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

   A damsel with a dulcimer
   In a vision once I saw:
   It was an Abyssinian maid
   And on her dulcimer she played,
   Singing of Mount Abora.
   Could I revive within me
   Her symphony and song,
   To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

--- English ---

Kubla Khan
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

(Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.)

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round;
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

   The shadow of the dome of pleasure
   Floated midway on the waves;
   Where was heard the mingled measure
   From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

   A damsel with a dulcimer
   In a vision once I saw:
   It was an Abyssinian maid
   And on her dulcimer she played,
   Singing of Mount Abora.
   Could I revive within me
   Her symphony and song,
   To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.