Posts Tagged ‘aspiring writer’

Those Were the Days

May 5, 2011

I remember the days

Of after school escapades.

We watched the afternoon scuttle along

As we filled each others’ ears with classic remarks.

Your gestures still dance before my eyes:

Please tell me you still remember the stitch at your sides

When I made you forget who we were – two fearless innocent girls

At the ice-cream shop – and gave everything you had in

You to laugh;

The comfortable shy silence that followed

When we hastily scooped up

Rare bits of still-intact ice-cream

Ring in my ears –

I want to go back to those

Careless days of fro-yo nonsense,

When we painted each other’s imaginary canvas,

And sparks ignited my only heart.

Iris Zhang, May4, 11

Edited May23, 12

The Calm Before the Storm

May 3, 2011

After the sullen storm brings the dust to a halt,

Please permit me to settle like the silence that buries

These past memories.

I come from the tide like scars and flowing ashes

To recline in the desert of your ignorant compassion.

The silence sears a million more secrets as clear

As your watery eyes; secrets that should have

Stayed secret behind my pursed, trembling lips

That render me speechless before your listless concern.

Iris Zhang, May11

Displacement

May 2, 2011

Communication, the high brick walls

Of words and pause;

Pause like a mouth just about to

Open; Open those cold, indifferent walls,

For I cannot climb, for I cannot

Suffer your insurmountable walls

That bear no meaning, that bear no weight

On this burden of thoughts that compel me

To keep banging on those formidable walls.

Iris Zhang, May11

On Foot – Edited April11

April 29, 2011

If home be my destination, you are the voyage–
The walk from here to where:
The barefoot trek on pebble gravel,
The journey that grows garish and weary;
The adventure on calm bullets of inexplicable silence,
The trip desperate to prove functionality on a fatal Tuesday morning.
The crossing on smothering brick-red stones smooth like water;
But water splashes like the feast of starvation rushes through each bloated vein–
The refreshing expedition to a familiar dread,
The travel designed for the traveling rather than the destination.
And before expected, home, is where my reflection ends.
Sand and dust;
Soil and dirt;
Scars and dreams;
These memories and footsteps never liberated
attach ingrained to the souls of my worn-out sneakers–
Know that the road on which it lingered later absorbs footprints of immovable weight, of companionship and cheerful comraderie.

Voyager lost at the end of the voyage–
Yes, if home is where the voyage ends, you are the voyage and I the vessel drifting at sea.

Iris Zhang, Dec09, edited April11

You always seem to know where to find me and I’m still here behind you
In the corner of your eye.
I’ll never really learn how to love you
But I know that I love you through the hole in the sky.

Where I see you
And that’s not an invitation
That’s all I get
If this is communication
I disconnect
I’ve seen you, I know you
But I don’t know
How to connect, so I disconnect

Communication, The Cardigans.

Please Stay

August 26, 2010

Stay

Shadows of the sun of wind
Surreally running through my fingers
Undress me with strands of casting flames
Like slenderer wisps of smoke sinking
Seeping through a diaphanous resolve
Suddenly we are projected back onto the sea
Mulling in the moon as if we forgot
The way we drowned or the way back to
Where we stemmed from a thought or the twisted
Innocence of a tweaked momentum that propels
Us on our haunted journey till we arrive as empty
Shells somehow with a nautical story to tell like how the mast rose
Above the tide while we sat on the deck like waking shadows
Shadows of possibility and what it means to be afraid
Of an elusiveness that keeps returning
As what we knew right from the start to be simple
Shadows.

Iris Zhang, Aug10

This is my latest revised edition of ‘Frolicking Theories’