Chinhooi Zhenhui

 Blood pressure struck by waves heartbeat high up as the reef prolongation of the sound of seawater small boat drifts beyond the boundary of the tempest empty and wide far and miles away distance of autumn picked up by the lens  we fully expressed by ambrosial azure of the paradise the rip tides inside gradually pacify.  

 Precious sword of cyan bronze the power of which unmatched as poems of mythology always tend they never tell you the final answer like the five greats he suffered from east to west he ran and searched through battles and ambushes they keep coming up but the eventual green spirit and heart disappeared like the dearly departed a return to mundane ashes and dust only despair surges to the surface the answer is actually simple it is in the midst of his throes first, the swordplay of Jade Maiden second, the toad skill and serpent staff  third, the dog beating staff technique fourth, the time flicking skill fifth, the melancholic palm  one of the five is a riddle waiting to be solved as is the world  waiting to be saved evil waiting to be destroyed the countdown to the choice  is on the godly condor splits the peak the earth turns to peace the secluded rainbow of romance will streak  across the clarity of the victory.

 Life  what does it look like many have thought about it inks and papers have been used up to describe it even now  it's difficult to explain it roundly some would say life is a flower so beautiful and fragrant but flowers are fleeting so fleeting that it makes people melancholic  some people say life is honey it's a thick flowing liquid  and you can taste the bitterness of it that makes you weep sometimes some compare life to a mountain trail it's long and winding and rugged but that's not absolute there are those who don't need to walk it i remember a poem once it likened life to a vast ocean but no one has ever thought about this in great detail that even the biggest ocean can't hold the weight that is life well i guess life is life in this vague earthly planet life is both the same and different from others so real and yet,   so unsure there is light and darkness light is the bright sun for instance and darkness filthier than the gutter there is lo...

Sometimes they're out and about on the edge of the woodland sometimes they're not in early winter they take the last few bites  of the grass that's left with their heads down a flock of sheep the horns on their heads gently harms  the skin of the earth the sheep are scrambling the marching order is a little chaotic the shepherd woman begins to yell the field of vision is not wide open i can still see the gray wolfhound staring majestically under the poplar tree that's lost its leaves  suddenly it snarls and runs towards the rattled flock suddenly the swollen formation shrinks the status quo was quickly restored and the shepherdess, the dog and the sheep began another round of silence.

 On this fulcrum a finger moves the globe in this small space a blue sky supplies colored clouds and fog no observances of dialogs no rubric of seminars exercise the thew of mind that's the straightforward tagline poetry, essays, compositions, photography, multimedia cascade from the wellspring of the heart giving it your best self to inspire others talk about current affairs on the shelves paint some life publish some thoughts this elegant style unites he, she, me and you them and us and the whole world too.

In a secluded place there's a little house of mine where the wind the rain lightning and dark clouds sunrise and evening stars snails and orioles sakura and snow swallows and spring breeze orchids and autumn friends and foes loved ones and strangers all the people i know from the books you and the flowers of dream and time had come and gone like a little letter carrier.

The east the eternal east you were here when i came you're still here when i left the sun rises from here cloaked in full armor of gold it walks up to the sky from the cerulean waves of the sea going the same way toward same direction every day rolling its blazing flames until dusk eventually sleeps on the sandy shores of silver if i had a sailing boat i would go to the coast of eastern glow when the sun rests on seabed i'd get there get the glory load it at the break of dawn from then on i will have no worries i will start work at sunrise and return home at sunset ecstatic smiling sending warm greetings to everyone around me i want them to be as inspired i want to leave samples of happy keep the flora that's sappy build an immortal temple for the divine deities of different times i want to tell everyone the story of the eastern ocean the story my ancestors told i want to tell it like they did i have found the brilliant eastern realm may they find similar truer happiness th...

 Very little sleep he gets  in recent days he doesn't always crave sleep he's just plagued by fatigue amidst the chaos of time and space no passing cars would take him away boarding a grey-green plain bus  he is relieved however the bus never stops no matter where it passes such a trite scenario really happened in his brain the anxiety was real passing through the grand canyon it was real the disconsolate passengers it was all real the bus didn't stop until he opened his eyes  and woke up by accident the other half of him getting out out of bed slowly turning on some light entering a new day of life not surprised by what was taken away from him he already believed that no matter where he was he could never get out of the destiny  of his childhood.

Standing on top of a tall building looking down on the semi dark city perhaps this is too high a sense of crisis arises cold wind blows  my hair cold from within flows  out my eyes a driving force spurring  me on times are changing fast that's the message i got from the landscape the concrete forest  is full of wild and hungry beasts i think i have to survive pointless hedonism has been abandoned it's time to act the end is either  destruction or redemption well that's matter of the future. 

A vector that runs from negative infinity to positive it strings everything from past to present if you abide by its line you can find the roots that have gone astray you can find the future that lies ahead time is a paintbrush that smudges green on the field then turns it yellow meanwhile time is a magic wand that changes everything it makes leaves marcescent it makes flowers fragrant time is a fountain it nourishes the hearts of lovers it makes their affections grow stronger and deeper  but at the same time it's also a powerful carving knife it wears down the grievances smooths the differences between people engraves all the beauty on their minds time is a touchstone it exposes those  things that only shine outwardly restores their former tones  time is a good unguent it heals all the pain and wounds leaving only happiness, wellness and hope time is the overlord of all societies it brings some down lifts some up in fact time is a merciless killer it will bury everyth...

 Listening to the wind  lapping at the water's edge dust that comes  from faraway still floating above the current exchanging some time with a few old trees we're waiting for the sun to set over the waterfall waiting for the rainbow to gather its brilliance and drown the basement  of the valley waiting for the starry eyes to gently slide into the field of dream  waiting for a native voice to shout out my nickname old laurel tree reclining by the waterside full of the chanting of cicadas and cygnets and fragrance of flowers that's brimming dilapidated storehouse must have been in disrepair for years and years watermill, dredge and pipe a hard scab of time a handful of fallen leaves at this point drift by placing a kind of ache on someone's heart.    

 A lake filled with blue autumn water it ripples  as if soaring migratory birds reflecting the countenance of colored mountains swelling with the reverie and mystique tugging  on wings of emotions curling up waves of passion layer after layer burying love at the bottom the lake filled with fragrance of autumn woods shadows of maple trees swaying of branches kisses the echoes of feelings drips of autumn notes swinging the bond of love the lake fluttering reddish longings blinking  with words of love in the depths of blue each wild cloud crosses its chest with affection skies in the distance that's the call of love merging merrily  colors like cyan and ecru.

A beautiful place amidst mountains where the sky is blue water is clear leaves are crimson mist surrounds clouds are close at hand the heart has decided to stay ever since with camera lens and eyes i take snapshots of splendid lives you'll love the silence of the night not a subtlest sound can escape the sensitivity the wind swirls little insects whisper magnificence of the meadow not a trace of dirt has tainted the pulchritude all of it makes me crave to take it all in I've been here already ans here has been somewhere in my heart  the ethereal spiritual realm I've been holding on to.    

Your lips fiery and carmine your hair with the smoothness  of knife your eyes seductive as sparkling poison lust donning the veil of love sweetened with sugary passion whispers in the ear leading innocence to the tempting chasm of dream melting determination into residuum  of wine pouring pride onto the freeway of desire crushing wisdom into paltry pallid cinders.

We never forget people need to eat and sleep to be alive people need to work and learn because these are the principles of life we must keep in mind sometimes i can't forget many troubles and qualms why haven't i forgotten them  yet it's not always a good thing to let certain memories remain  too long i know many things in life that shouldn't be forgotten i also know there are things that should and must be forgotten we can only try our best to clear out the misgivings scruples that make the heart die a little  each day so our inner space can be bright and spacious again our life can have back  and reserve its vitality and exuberance.

Love is being with some person just like those green leaves can't be separated from their flowers of red like a fish can't leave the water's depth love is mutual understanding  if a treeling doesn't grow well   as we would expect it to we don't blame it, no instead, we look closer and deeper question does it get enough nutrients or is there a lack of exposure to sunlight love is tolerance on both sides just like the ocean that can contain all things in its vast and broad mind   something worth learning from we can't live without love we need to love to enrich our lives this colorful world needs to be wreathed with love may we all receive love may we all learn to love and rejoice  in being loved.

When my eyes are open everything actualizes before me when they close the outer dimension is integrated into the core of the system when eyes open life is in sight when eyes are closed the picture is still  presented in the mind when you open your eyes don't put everything you see into your heart when you close your eyes you are looking at the pure nothingness so some things are best not to appear from time to time.

The nature I yearn for the mountain the water is what i mean  the freedom within my bones that grows wild with the flowers, the herbs the fireflies in the night when they fly into my eyes it's a poem a song when they flow into my ear the kind life i want is pure and simple but why has my shadow been so lost nowadays at least i need  the first rays of sunlight that shoot into the room that will feed the cactus  athirst in my soul  

Under the big tree diagonal rays of setting sun these days the store is quiet only breathing is reciprocated and twice a day in the morning and evening there's the sound of the rolling gate   you're quiet still standing before new book section listening  to the philosophical thoughts of undulating hills sweet words of water then came a few curious birds lined up at the door saying hello hungry fellas jumping here and there to collect and ingest those tiny bread crumbs from the palm of your hand.

Clouds  so light wind satiny soft i remember the old house even though shrouded in the depths of time even though covered with dust it is still my moon and stars an integral part  of my life this old house contains nostalgia and jubilation from my childhood perhaps little flowers by the corner of that wall many times have they visited  my gentle dream at night.