he watches the sky, the strings of flight that shrink even the world
創作在他鄉:
以我的英文名字(wen)諧音(when)寫成的敘事詩：~~from Santa Fe Art institute Resident(不具名之詩饋贈者，我快成了其他創作者的繆思了，而我的繆思之神卻遲遲未來，靈感枯竭，召喚繆思Recall of God Muse！)
There is no time when
A man shakes sounding like anger, but is in fear
His son taken to an island
Told, visit. but only a few hours now and then
There is no time when
out of the blue she takes him in--knowing he is part broken
he can barely rise to accept her gift, shocked that comfort still lives, surprised that he was seen at all through the murk of his troubles
she gives him a taste a smell that says even storm winds carry the perfume from a distant paradise then whispers you might go there one day
There is no time when
to ride birds takes fists of treasure pulled from baskets of of wood chips and and shredded paper—weeds grow seeds but no fruit, intentions do not spoon out delicious soup to her bowl
the man looks around dizzying precipice on every side no place to go and rain is coming
he watches the sky, the strings of flight that shrink even the world—a mile of ribbon carefully wound is only as long as a grasshopper from toe to eye
There is no time when
waiting she misses her ferry, the one that crosses a straight to the festival—he asks too much if she misses the dancing
for she touched his hand gently interrupting his ears banged with hammers on iron, when, sparing his skin from an envelope of scalding steam
when is snow deep and complex, ten thousand stacks of geometry and then multiplied by ten million and more—each as soft as the inner part of bread and as bright as polished silver
when deep snow was a bed of rest and awake. When the soft sound muffling of a perfect winter day shut in and off from the world to allow only gentle precipitation
he grew and when deeper still piled comfort up around him, and never missed the snowflakes caught on a reaching tongue, he smiled but there was no time
this pleasure unlikely does it make a meal? One to allow her surviving a long wait—when she has done all the giving, and yes he thanks her for his ears were spared of bleeding from the clang, his skin was not peeled off by the heat like a tomato dipped in the boiling pot
When is snow a bandage, when is the beam that stiffens and keeps the roof from collapse, there is not enough time for when
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Quentin Tarantino presents The Man with the Iron Fists, an epic action adventure inspired by classic kung fu movies. When the emperor's gold is ... ... <看更多>