Poetry

Wang Qian
PROFILE About me Friends (3) Poetry (3)


Wang Qian

Wang Qian, 24 june 2013

Lilac Mother

I hear your crisp tears
Clambering up the throat cliff
While you are eating.
Why you are so queer,
Why you like to disappear,
Why you always fling yourself to
Be gone with the warm empty air?

I think you could pick up
All your dewy eyes
Then tell me some words,
Really who you are
It fairly puzzles.

A throbbing weeping night,
An umbrella you hold in hand tight,
Where you want to flee?
Or where you hunt to hide?

Catching the swimming tangle of steps,
I find you quivering abstract
In a mossy dripping corner.
Worried stuffs me with a numb anger.
'Could you let me know
If next time you want to wander? '
I utter.

Forcefully
Your face turns pale
Rains glue the eyes
Hands sweaty fingers unquiet
Blue lips blankly rhyme.

Maybe you are a little deer
That not very polite,
Maybe heavy cheers hang rarely
On your creamy cheeks.
You throw your secret high
Where no one can spy,
But show me a photo
Under the sleepy stony night.

The crawling colour on it is your mother,
White grace wrapped her
Breeze embraced a mild laughter.
Ebony hairs flying with the fragrant Spring,
Ivory hands freely combing the pregnant Green.

Tears
Ears
Clouds
Walls
Leaves
Petals
Caves
Shadows
W-A-T-C- H-I-N-G
Hand in hand.

It's a wordless night,
I meet many wordless eyes.
However at last I know,
Why you run so fast
As an arrow
Into the knitting broken rain,
Why your suspension points of wheaty smile
Were heaped up
On the firmly biting keen.

A murderer of the motherless nightmare
A prisoner of the nevermore lilac smell.

Silence is a big brassy chain
Banging the pebbles under foot
Again and again.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 6 | detail

Wang Qian

Wang Qian, 11 december 2011

The Rose Buds in My Mooncake

Autumn falling,
The bones of maple leaves cracking
Into young palms of unquietness,
When wave so gracefully,
Messaged by sheaves of air
So tender,
Breathe the cold womb warming
In wonder,
I skin the mooncake's secret
A peeper.

Forgive me,
For that plucking of your rose red buds.
They red like many crystal hearts
Dare dive
Out damp
With stinging love.
Dost thou still breathst well?
I into you to steal a while.

Vigorous-grown face,
With vermilion lips to kiss,
Hairs stubborn in summer unbending greens,
Eyes tweedled gayly with deep sheens.
You once were my happy prince.

Forget the winter,
Forget the spring,
Forget the seasons always disdain,
In brain walnut cell
Only with little witnessing of the thievery
Commited by the Moon's Festival
Which the lordly Sun can do
Nothing
But sitting-blank
Envy.

Moon
Round round,
Orange-like pillow,
Sleepy pioneers sky
And stars hustle.

Fragrant nuts sweets,
I swallow,
Tastes the withered, whitened, veiled
In hollow,
Under the heat's invasion,
Buds are talkatively muted in division.

Barbarously baked on crisp sobbing,
Red are ripped robbed
while rose dying.
When blasts of tranquility dilutes the Red
crowned on the flower,
Lifeless threads a needle
through the tireless colour.

Sigh sigh pales the past,
Rocking rainbow above the bridge of love.
You can come,
Can part,
Can dwell on the ironing scar.
Easy everything can trap me numb,
Only ascend in mind the dreamy bubbles of love.

Big memories be with the silver moon,
Little crowds tributed to the golden sun.
At the kid's day,
Mouth-spliting honey clothes whole the play.
The Rose bound mummy,
Undead yummy.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 20 | detail

Wang Qian

Wang Qian, 11 december 2011

If I Were A Leaf

If I were a leaf,
I want to be blown away into the sky,
Breath the air that comes from my home.

If I were a leaf,
I want to be attached on the cover of the envelope
sending to my mum,
Then she will see my name at the first sight of the letter.

If I were a leaf,
I want to be put on the nose of a pure girl.
Cause it is just like the oil painting hanging on my wall.

If I were a leaf,
I want to be picked up by an old man,
As his bending over reminds me of my grandpa.

If I were a leaf,
I want to hide in the pumpkin field,
My grandma liked to plant them and give the huge pumpkins away to her old friends.

If I were a leaf,
I want to be collected in my favourite book,
That time I could bathe in my thought deeply.

If I were a leaf,
I want to grow up,
Beacause nature takes its course.
So do I.

Make me a leaf,
then blow me home.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 18 | detail


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