We writers are the greatest of narcissists – we make a profession of consuming ourselves and then try to sell what we spit out. Books themselves, the paper kind, give me much pleasure. All my life, I haven’t cared if they were soggy and wet, dry, burnt, or new as long as I could hold…… Continue reading Again to Official Pei Ming’s Abode (or On what did Atlas stand?)
As I was biking along the Shenzhen boardwalk, I looked up. The sky was a cool plastic slate that stretched from the west, where the sun blushed behind pearly screens. Around me the sounds of hip hop mixed with the tinkle of bicycle bells, the scent of jasmine and barbecued meat. Along the shore of…… Continue reading Swallow Terrace Poems
One morning I woke in a sweat. Instinctively, I picked up my smartphone. Banner ads for insurance products and shampoo competed with news feeds about imminent wars and man-made disasters. Everywhere I looked it seemed the world was going up in flames. I wanted to write something about it, but recoiled at the thought of…… Continue reading Given to Official Liu
Happy To Hear That Official Cui At Tai Yuan Served The Imperial Censor, And Also Sends Regards To The 3rd And 2nd Year Fellow Exam Candidates One day, Shangyin told me, “I was summoned to the Emperor. Terrified and amazed, I kowtowed before him. He looked at me sternly and said “Shangyin, why do you…… Continue reading Regards to Official Cui
How I long for those days of pens and ink, when calligraphy ruled, and bits and bytes were things around a dining table. 来是空言去绝踪， lái shì kōng yán qù jué zōng 月斜楼上五更种。 yuè xié lóu shàng wǔ gēng zhǒng 梦为远别啼难唤， mèng wéi yuǎn bié tí nán huàn 书被催成墨末浓。 shū bèi cuī chéng mò mò nóng 蜡照半笼金翡翠， là zhào bàn lóng jīn fěi cuì 麝熏微度绣芙蓉。 shè xūn wēi dù xiù fú róng 刘郎已恨蓬山远， liú láng yǐ hèn péng shān yuǎn 更隔蓬山一万重。 gēng gé péng shān yī wàn zhòng Arrive is just an empty word, you leave without a…… Continue reading Poem Without a Title 12
A Tang Poet From Nairobi 