Tuesday, December 30, 2014

On a Strangers’ Land on New Year’s Eve
(Written December 31, 2012)

On New Year’s Eve,
A beautiful stranger landed
On a strangers’ land.

He cordially exchanged
New Year’s wishes
With curious passers-by.

He did not care
Strange looks
Shot on his straight back.

He did not grudge
His knowledge of his bike
Pitch black.

The strangers would
Never know
The good looking stranger
And his bike
Are miser owners
Of each other.

The strangers would
Never forget
The beautiful stranger
Was clad in black
Reflecting the moon rise and sun set
In his black eyes and hair.

On a wet cold New Year’s eve
On a strangers’ land,
They told the world
A story of venturing into
A journey
Leading to home. 

Friday, November 7, 2014

Death
Cynthia Zhang
(Written February 2, 2013)


Death

Death is light:

Bony head,

Dry breasts,

Exaggerating hips

Nipping a denying womb.

 

Death is heavy:

Crushing animals,

Excruciating vegetation,

Imbibing the brain

And marrow

Of the human being.

 

Death is fearless

For it has nothing

To offer or lose.

He plays chess

With life

For the sake of

Space.

 

Death is ambitious

For his kingdom

Claims all life,

Sooner or later.

 

So death thrusts

Its straw

Into every vein,

Green or red,

Sucking,

His eyes closing tight.

 

His arid skin is

Pumped up

Like a balloon.

 

Death explodes.

 

He kills himself

And jumps off the cliff

To his home of

Nothingness.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Sincerity - The Image of an Ideal
Cynthia Zhang
(Written October 29, 2012)


Sincerity
The Image of an Ideal

Where do I begin

To tell a story of

Hate and love?

Mellow melodies

Cannot hide

My emotional storm.

 

I walked on

The fine line

Between death and life

Just to avoid

That free fall of

My darling you,

My dream.

 

I cannot tell

How plain this dream is.

Yet I cannot let go

For

If I let go

I lose all.

 

Oh lord,

Save me.

Save me!

My eyes should

Have been blind.

I have been walking

Forever in that

Quiet green garden.

But I never knew

I came from hell.

 

Till now.

 

But darling,

I will still sing and play

For you,

With all that I am

With all that I have.

 

The pinkness of my lips

Once lost their color

For you.

I live a life

Given by you.

 

But darling,

Don’t you see?

I was one of those

Who died for you?

For you,

For our dream.

 

I will stay here

Where you belong

Till you come back.

I will see you

Live a life

Richer and longer

Than mine.

I will see

Your sorrow and joy.

I will cry and fall

For you

Again.

 

When you come back,

I move closer

To my dream

To be with you.

And I am ready

To fly with you

To our dream land,

Our home.  

Tuesday, October 21, 2014



News of Safety
Cynthia Zhang
(Written August 29, 2011)

News of Safety
To Professor Barbara Katz Rothman and Her Family

A relief to hear
My friend was
Safe in New York.
The hurricane spared her
And her family
Without even
Blowing the lights off.

Yes, New York.

The city that will
Celebrate its 10th anniversary
Of attack.
The city that was buried
In ruins
With my old dreams.
The city that will
See me mining the field
With conscience
In humility.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Note on "Hope"
Cynthia Zhang
(October 9, 2014)

The date I wrote "Hope" should be in early 2013 as the poem depicts scenery on Todds Road and Jacobson Park in Lexington, KY. I dedicated this poem to Professor Sheldon Stryker, hoping he could recover from a fall in the cold spring.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Fine Sewing
Cynthia Zhang
(Written November 28, 2011)


Fine Sewing

 

Stitch by stitch,

The fine lady sews 

Her gift,

Her home,

Her future to

Hold her heart.

 

Corner by corner,

The diligent housewife sweeps

Her room,

His room,

And prepares for the

Baby's coming.

 

Joy comes with a price.

Pain highlights the dedication.

Decorations are well thought.

Boxes are not allowed.

 

Oh, we all marry our parents

At certain times.

Well, we all live in the present,

For sure.

And, we all jog slowly in the future,

With hope.

Sunday, September 28, 2014

To my readers,

I apologize if I cannot write as many poems as your would like. See, I am very self flattery.:)

Cynthia Zhang
To My Readers
(Cynthia Zhang September 28, 2014)

Dear readers,

Thank you for reading my poems. I appreciate that you cared to read my poems and hope you can continue to read them.

I published here about 20 poems although I have written around 100 poems in the past several years. I did not publish all my poems because I was improving my skills and I had my work.

I will try to publish my future poems here as soon as they are available and well developed. I might also begin a personal website with a section publishing my poems.

Again, thank you for reading and liking my poems.

Sincerely,
Cynthia Zhang

Thursday, September 18, 2014

The Virtue of Self-Righteousness
Cynthia Zhang
(Originally written on November 18, 2012)


The Virtue of Self-Righteousness

 

Aaaahh Buddha!

Open your eyes

Give me your money.

You freaking jerk

Owe me that much.

You bitch,

My saliva can flood you

If you continue to pretend

To be a virgin!

You know how many times

I have murmured your name?

 

Eeeeii listen!

Raise your glasses!

I’m a drunken legendary monk

Practicing my martial arts.

I’m gonna kill you all

If your bodies

Are in my way to heaven!

You know how much pork I ate?

Monks are supposed to be vegetarians?

Fucking joke!

You know the top monks

Always circumvent the convention!

You son of a bitch!

 

Aah… My esteemed hubby,

Could you please just stop cursing?

Your talk is wasted

For a corrupted body and mind.

I’m still here.

And I was a virgin for you.

Those whores you slept

Are no equal to me.

A big city whore?

I don’t even look her way.

 

Eei… Forget it.

If you read the scripture

Too many times,

I will do the ritual for you.

In our afterlife,

I will always keep my purity

For you.

I’m just kidding you:

If I lost my virginity by

Riding a bike too much,

I can stich it back

Using that doctor’s hand.

 

Hahaha Ha!

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Starry Eyes
Cynthia Zhang
(Written September 6, 2014)


Starry Eyes

To Professor Wang, In Commemoration of Professor Zhu

When does day end, night start?

At the peak of the mega city,

The pale moon cannot pierce through

The noise, indifference, and exhaustion.

 

Where does life end, death start?

I bend life and death into ovals.

I lift ovals with my years,

My years without you 

Into the sky.

 

Then I see your eyes smiling

Down at me,

As they always did,

Through my years

My years with you.

 

Bewildered by the new life

In college,

For the first time,

I caught the glimpse of

Your large eyes.

 

Those eyes

Were calm and gentle,

They shone in my presence and asked:

Stand by me. No worries.

 

How my heart rejoiced to find

A comrade and company

When I found you!

 

In countless days and endless nights

We conversed

Side by side

In the classroom, the library,

And the open fields around our campus.

 

When the cultural storm rushed away our peace

And swept us onto the broad rural horizon,

Our emotions for each other grew

In our hard labor and laughter

Shared by our eager students.

 

The rising sun and the setting moon

Witnessed our hearts become tender

For the mere thoughts

And the sound of steps

Of the other.

 

Finally,

We became a family

In our lives, spirit, and pursuits.

 

That early spring in the Summer Palace

Was cold and damp.

The shy yellow leaves on the trees

Shuddered in the wind.

 

But my hands were warm in yours.

My heart beats were even

When our son

Turned and tossed

In my womb.

 

My life and another little life

Were safe in your hands

As your eyes

Never left me and my needs.

 

As the wind from the west

Blew harder and stronger,

You took off to the U.S.

With your wings and heart

Opening wide.

 

I took on your teaching

And family responsibility.

I could stand to see your caring eyes

Only in my dreams

Because I must make your dreams

Come true

As you made mine.

 

Then death threatened to separate us.

 

But the dark shadow of death

Only managed to push us

Closer to each other.

 

By your bedside,

I put up my home in the hospital.

We were together

When days and nights passed by us.

 

Days and nights could not

Raise

The slightest doubt

In our hearts about

Our love and devotion.

 

I wanted your life to go on

As I could not walk home alone.

You wanted my peace of mind

After you would walk

Outside my life.

 

I could only accept your gift

Earned by your respect among colleagues

As I knew

Your eyes would watch me

From above.

 

You should know,

Your eyes I saw

In and with my life

Would be

Forever

The brightest stars over me.

 

Now,

Let me see you…

When you are in my eyes.

Please see me,

I see myself in your eyes.

 

I see you

In life, in death.

 

Sunday, August 24, 2014

4th of July, Flagstaff
Cynthia Zhang
(Written July 20, 2014)



7[CZ1] 4日,旗帜镇
终于盼到了七月四日。

克里斯蒂四顾盼望,
游行的人群将是沃伦的选民。
妻子兼竞选经理,

沃伦的法官仕途,
他的和谐社会主旨,
将随着这些志愿者手中的名片和国旗
一张张一片片

竞选的游行车
红蓝相间

驾座上是导师。
红圆的脸,
笃定的手。
有久病妻子的陪伴

终于盼到了这一天。

一次次选民的小型聚会,
与丈夫并肩
树桩演讲。
今天,

两列中学生纵队
随着旗手的舞步引领
踏碎步,
端肩膀,
奏一曲
响亮参差的序曲,
演绎着

当旗手的舞步稍落,
克里斯蒂塞一张名片
到她手中。
一颗种子播下。
克里斯帝祝愿
沃伦的名字和精神

吐一口长气,
克里斯蒂一回首,
船型帽下
沃伦敦厚自信的微笑
在炎炎夏日阳光中
跃动着。
沃伦正大踏步
向她走来。

一个紧紧的拥抱,
一声短短的问候。
夫妇的双目唇间
流溢着必胜的信念。
相依相偎,
沃伦和克里斯蒂
环视人群,

十数印第安人
着彩妆,
抡双臂,
高踩步,

展开最灿烂的笑容,
沃伦的志愿者
穿行人群中。
发一面小旗到孩子手中。
散一张名片给长者。
四目交接处
晨光的稚嫩
熟夏的沉稳
迸射节日的欢笑

沃伦的竞选彩车启动,
游弋在人的海洋,
孩童为浪,

张开手中的口袋,
孩子们等待着游行人群的礼物。
期待的眼神
淘空了礼物

冷丁处
稚嫩童声发出
爱国音:
“你发星条旗,
你可知道这是旗帜镇,

赞许的笑容
象喝彩

克里斯蒂的脚步飞快。
手中的名片旗帜

沃伦与选民的握手
有力温暖。
沃伦的和谐社会主旨

一前一后,
夫妇两人
建着竞选的平台
筑着爱的暖穴。
凭什麽样的夏日暴雨

 [CZ1]July 4th, Flagstaff
 [CZ2]To Warren and Kristen
 [CZ3]The happy national day of July 4th finally arrived.
 [CZ4]Kristen, as wife and campaign manager, looked at the parade who will be voters as well as the campaign volunteers.
 [CZ5]Warren’s victory in the peace of justice campaign and his restorative justice motto will depend on the volunteers who distribute flags and name cards to the crowd.
 [CZ6]The campaign vehicle is decorated with red and blue ribbons.
 [CZ7]The mentor is the driver. He has a round red face and steady hands. The mentor’s wife and a loud puppy were in the vehicle with him.
 [CZ8]“Finally.” Kristen prayed silently.
 [CZ9]Kristen and husband have had numerous small gatherings with voters. Today will be the peak of the campaign.
 [CZ10]Some middle school students followed the steps of the banner carrier. They played loud prelude and showed their pride of belonging to the group.
 [CZ11]Kristen gave a name card to the banner carrier once she stopped and hoped that the name card can be a seed to grow large with Warren’s name and motto of restorative justice.
 [CZ12]Looking back, Kristen saw Warren’s confident smile in the summer sun. Warren strode over to her with campaign boxes in his arms.
 [CZ13]Kristen and Warren had a hug and exchanged greetings. Victory was written on their faces. They then looked around, enjoying a moment of leisure.
 [CZ14]A dozen native Americans with colorful clothes danced their way to them.
 [CZ15]The volunteers distributed flags to kids and name cards to adults. Kids rejoiced with the flags and adults showed understanding when receiving name cards.
 [CZ16]Warren’s campaign vehicle started and moved among the crowds. Kids were like waves and adults were like the ocean beach.
 [CZ17]Kids opened their bags for gifts from the parade. Their expecting eyes emptied the gifts and stole people’s hearts.
 [CZ18]All of a sudden, a kid shouted, “this is Flagstaff because it produces flags.”
 [CZ19]Approval laughter ignited the crowd. 
 [CZ20]Kristen walked very fast. Name cards were given out fast.
 [CZ21]Warren’s handshakes with voters were warm. Warren’s restorative justice motto is warm.
 [CZ22]Husband and wife built their campaign platform and home of love together. Can any summer storms destroy their campaign?