Siblings

Thought a lot about my own older siblings these past few days. How much their opinions mean to me. Their love so precious. Their words so weighty.

[Triplet of 4 lines of 7 words. The first two poems were written by Nainai who sent them to her older brother who responded with the third.]

I was 17, having escaped from turmoil between Yang and Liu families to Aumen (Macau). One early morning at dawn.

Stars moon fade east sky turns white
Little yard rooster’s crow says it’s morning
How much autumn melancholy can you hold
Green window--all’s still--fixing my hair 

Written about the same time

Red leaves western breeze geese shadows few
By window expecting far dear one’s letter
Evening clouds so red through sparse woods
Don’t mind changes sadness live like hermit

Older brother commended poems--the Guangdong province Yangjiang county Secretary.

The postal carrier brought me a letter
Reading over over these words like gold
Our family genius poet talent needs celebration
Vision heart mind pure clean see light

It freaks me out how much I am like my grandmother. I always get sad in fall. Nearly without fail. Everything can be 'going right' and yet with that autumn smell I feel a twinge of depression.

And here is the entry for Gonggong. My mom's classical poetry note: there is an allusion to the 7th or 8th century poem by Dupu about wartime and wishing for a house big enough to shield all the poor people from the cold and wet. I love how Dupu's dream is nearly prophecy for Jesus' words in John 14:2. And I love that my grandfather valued inter-ethnic harmony and desegregation.
[8 lines of 7 words]

Sentian YMCA

I wrote this poem because when I went to Japan, I didn’t have much money and had to find a place to stay, to live. I lived at the Sentian YMCA because the manager helped all poor students in every way he could. He let me stay there. I think without him, I would not be here today. I wrote this to memorialize his graciousness and the help that he gave. Most the Chinese in Japan were very tribal and segregating. The YMCA was the only place that accepted people regardless of clan.

Roamer’s home where can you find one
Every remembrance brings deep feelings of gratitude
Big house open: a refuge from cold
Several doors: still evening entry remains unbarred
Most people in out strutting sophisticate scholars
Together their chat laughs blare hometown tones
Market stalls hundred kinds competing value deals
Really this place is (talent) worth 10,000 silver 

A confession

For the past few months, I've been attending a women's meeting at which the speaker (Shandel Slaten) has repeated the anecdote about her telling God how much she hates being weak and needy. The Lord has responded to her by pointing out that he loves what she hates. He loves when we're needy, when we have nothing to give, when we don't know how we're gonna make it. Because, according to 2 Corinthians 12:9, his power is made perfect in weakness. And elsewhere the bible says he searches out people to whom to show himself strong on their behalf (found it: 2 Chronicles 16:9).

Though it's Tuesday, I'm headed to my parents' house for dinner tonight. Usually I go on Monday nights. But the women's meeting is on Monday nights. And yesterday my mom was busy. Anyhow. I woke up and devised this 5-7-5 haiku partially in anticipation and also out of thinking too much.

I hate this waiting
But you love long-suffering
Fruit as you define

Guest poet (my niece) and Gonggong translated in rhyme

Tonight is a little bonus family time. So I'm taking the opportunity to post a poem written by my oldest niece and one by my grandpa that's been sitting in my draft folder for a while.

First the one by my niece who is ten. ("I was nine when I wrote it but I'm ten now," she clarifies.)

Why do I need answers?

Why does city start with 'c'
Why are oranges round
Why was I born in January
Why do we stay on the ground

Why do we have a weekend
Why am I the oldest child
Why aren't enemies friends
Why are tigers wild

Why does a clock have twelve numbers
Why do I like cucumbers
People get annoyed, you see
Always finding answers for me


And now the one by my gonggong:
[5 words 12 sentences]

Lu Mountain
Looking south from our old house at Lu Mountain. Many people have written about Lu Mountain.

Old home windows open wide
Lu Mountain is right there
Tall peaks five men dignified
Smattering of flowers color bare
Water falls three lofting tiers
Rushing down white jade screen
Floating fog dispels and clears
Mountain tops twinkle glitter gleam
Thick clouds form rains near
Range shrouded in misty roll
Forecast days dire or dear
In this mountain living soul

Plants Chinese like

Last week, my mom and I talked about the types of plants Chinese people like, and therefore use in poetry. They are the plum blossom, the chrysanthemum, lotus flower, the pine, and the cypress. Why? Because these are hearty in hard times: blooming in winter, or beauty emerging from mirky waters, or staying green in cold, harsh weather. This really tells about Chinese mentality: prizing the ability to endure and flourish in difficulty. It made me think about plants westerners write about: oak, rose, daisy. I have to think more on this. So this plays into this week's 2nd poem. Nainai references the pine and cypress which symbolize faithfulness and steadfastness.

The second bit of literary trivia to note is that for weddings it is traditional to compose a poem incorporating the bride and groom's names. In this case, my aunt's name is the "blessing like" and her husband's is the plum. If I get married, I'm going to task my father with writing a poem using my name. That should be fun.

Reply to My Son Huo
[4 lines of 7 words]
 
Holding pen fresh sheet start writer’s block
No heart for words heavy as mountains
From today not abiding under family roof
Won’t you ever in life come back?
 
 
In honor of my daughter’s wedding
[4 lines of 7 words]
 
Plum flowers first blossoms to be seen
Early spring daughter tries on bridal gown
Ancient poem tells of man courting maiden
Blessing like pine cypress two hearts touch