Saturday, July 28, 2007

unwords, by nichita stanescu

he offered me a leaf like a hand with fingers
I offered him a hand like a leaf with teeth
he offered me a branch like an arm
I offered him an arm like a branch
he tipped his trunk towards me
like a shoulder
I tipped my shoulder to him
like a knotted trunk
I could hear his sap quicken, beating
like blood
he could hear my blood slacken in like rising sap
I passed through him
he passed through me

I remained a solitary tree

a solitary man.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

so low a city

so low a city
in central java

so very low
that they name it
so low

so fine a city
from ev'nin' glow

ho ho ho...

Thursday, July 12, 2007

the east

the East.

morning news from the eastern sea.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Buen Dia Eduardo

If you read this, Eduardo
Please drop me a line.

The 'buen dia' was indeed Portuguese.

A Dili boy taught me that.
A Dili boy.

Sunday, July 01, 2007

The Mandate

You know, I was mandated to observe an election process;

And here is some parts of my report:

I observed the process of the elections, and the life of the peasants who vote;

The “buen dia” and the “labele”;

I watched and smiled at the sight of Juli and Lepar catching a fish;

I observed a great statue of the King on the top of a hill, which was not made in China;

I paid attention to the security warning sign “maubere”;

Protecting most vital buildings in Dili;

I took a long look at the sunrise and the sunset and had a long breath while observing and convinced that both were not exactly equatorial.

That is my report.