安公子
前段九句，后段八句，共一百零六字，十二韵
老把春心荡。
枯枝头顶残花放。
断草腰间插凤尾。
立水中鸳鸯。
着小雨留心。
生卷出漪浪。
看活鱼游水莲叶坊。
恨繁枝遮断。
故里炊烟如唱。
云里风追上。
紫毫一管写跌宕。
百种相思拾不起。
怪圆轮银朗。
自别后清愁句苦词难状。
嗔月光独占伊惆怅。
想烟雨西湖。
也曾涤洗迷惘。
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Monday, May 27, 2013
A God's Death Were But A Play
A God's death were but a play
Script writers pin him to stay
In his lasting seat of demise
Dramas, operas to suffice
A day to feel fire and ice
God casts his own dice
My god has a different lot
he is spared
Nails and cross
Fit to push rocks
His shoulders broad
His destination a long shroud
To become a God through death
A common fame to our lords
Each family tree bears a few
A big branch to fill the pew
The play ends with raising the dead
Curtain falls to clear out the depended
A Heart Still Laments
A heart still laments
A heart still laments
A lifetime of dry month
Dull eye sights but hears well
The cow coughs
The dog barks
The cat mews
The heart is filled with sounds
Of a windy space
April
April is the cruelest month, says who?
One poet, one poem,
Everlasting Lilacs,
Frozen wishes in the rain
Forgotten snows ever been
A verdict for April
Who can break that curse
To return glory to that expecting month
With all the summer dreams
Lining up, in the air
Only to bow to the brows knit
Of lamenting over showers
Only broken heart brings
moonlight on the lake
The Moonlight on the Lake
（2003）
Moonlight on the lake,
Grows closer and warmer,
We can catch moonlight
With a dream catcher
Only to find it gets darker.
Moonlight on the lake
Pale and cooler
When lovers part forever
With a long look back
Only see shadows sad.
Moonlight on the lake
Fading and rising
When sonnets and birds silent
With a tango frozen in time
Echoes fly with wind chime.
Moonlight on the lake
A distant song from last week
Whose voice in the wake
Of that departing moon
Its melodies gone so soon
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Morning Coffee in Santa Rosa
2006 April
Morning coffee in Santa Rosa
Belongs to the homeless saga,
From all the street corners,
Under the bridges
From the creeks,
Over the grass,
Beneath the sky,
Men, being spilled out,
Heavy with their over night odors,
Women, their freshness after a rushed toilet.
Chilly air finds them
In for the first pot of coffee.
Toasts of bagel, croissants, scones,
Shared scantly with
The homeowners of the city folks,
Who stay in or sleep in
Cozy bed, breathed of warm bodies of bedmates;
Husbands or wives; girl friend or boy friend;
Gigolos or prostitutes.
The natural morning comradeship
Warms up strangers in sharing cigarettes,
Small bargains of favors,
Bus passes,
Drugs,
Food stamps,
Two dollar morning breakfast,
Double cheeseburgers,
Gossips, threats;
Fights to face off over “my man”, or “my girl”,
“Can you spare a quarter?
No, thanks for asking, though.”
Transit Mall collects newly discharged men and women from the city,
Children and seniors alike;
Some one might jumps at some one else,
Fists on the throat,
As a result of too much coffee from the shelter,
The Living Room, St. Vincent de Paul’s kitchen.
Stir up ancient jealousy, anger, negativity,
“Hit, pissed off, stay away!”
“Shit, God, Lord, Probation officer.”
Morning air is more cheerful,
After a drizzle,
A shower,
A down pour,
A let-up.
When the shops become noisier,
With familiar stories,
Repeated wisdom,
Recycled sorrows,
Breakable dreams.
Sooner than later,
The groups of earliest visitors break off.
In a warmer sunlit spot,
Bodies lie down
In carefree embrace,
With dog tucked in by the leg,
A guitar un-tuned,
A drum unbeaten,
A bike without lock chain.
A sleeping bag is rolled up.
Early risers,
Bike riders,
Joggers,
Delivery guys,
Bagel girls,
Tourists on diet, with weight control sheet,
Business personnel in suits, cups in hands.
City is more diverse,
With well rested folks,
Brighter looks on the faces,
Spectacled eyes on stock pages,
On George Bush,
On Ben La Din
On asparagus and mushroom dishes.
Following the sun when morning is chilly,
Following the shade when morning is hot.
Three benches be visited,
From the west side
of the fountain in the morning,
To the East side
when the grass is heated to dry and dews lost.
Their lustiness under footsteps.
Cigarette butts litter around,
Dogs make no effort to belong,
A banjo is playing by the fountain,
A pair of ducks rubbing necks with each other.
Shops are hanging out “Open” sign,
Coffee smells perfumed morning bodies,
An old man takes a seat by the window,
Reading the first page and keeps an eye
On the lonely lady in her purple dress.
Morning coffee in Santa Rosa,
Fresh and repeated aroma,
The same cup
And the same chair,
The same look
And the same longing,
For a warmer greeting and
A distant side-glance,
Hello, my dear….
See you soon and take care.
2006 April
Morning coffee in Santa Rosa
Belongs to the homeless saga,
From all the street corners,
Under the bridges
From the creeks,
Over the grass,
Beneath the sky,
Men, being spilled out,
Heavy with their over night odors,
Women, their freshness after a rushed toilet.
Chilly air finds them
In for the first pot of coffee.
Toasts of bagel, croissants, scones,
Shared scantly with
The homeowners of the city folks,
Who stay in or sleep in
Cozy bed, breathed of warm bodies of bedmates;
Husbands or wives; girl friend or boy friend;
Gigolos or prostitutes.
The natural morning comradeship
Warms up strangers in sharing cigarettes,
Small bargains of favors,
Bus passes,
Drugs,
Food stamps,
Two dollar morning breakfast,
Double cheeseburgers,
Gossips, threats;
Fights to face off over “my man”, or “my girl”,
“Can you spare a quarter?
No, thanks for asking, though.”
Transit Mall collects newly discharged men and women from the city,
Children and seniors alike;
Some one might jumps at some one else,
Fists on the throat,
As a result of too much coffee from the shelter,
The Living Room, St. Vincent de Paul’s kitchen.
Stir up ancient jealousy, anger, negativity,
“Hit, pissed off, stay away!”
“Shit, God, Lord, Probation officer.”
Morning air is more cheerful,
After a drizzle,
A shower,
A down pour,
A let-up.
When the shops become noisier,
With familiar stories,
Repeated wisdom,
Recycled sorrows,
Breakable dreams.
Sooner than later,
The groups of earliest visitors break off.
In a warmer sunlit spot,
Bodies lie down
In carefree embrace,
With dog tucked in by the leg,
A guitar un-tuned,
A drum unbeaten,
A bike without lock chain.
A sleeping bag is rolled up.
Early risers,
Bike riders,
Joggers,
Delivery guys,
Bagel girls,
Tourists on diet, with weight control sheet,
Business personnel in suits, cups in hands.
City is more diverse,
With well rested folks,
Brighter looks on the faces,
Spectacled eyes on stock pages,
On George Bush,
On Ben La Din
On asparagus and mushroom dishes.
Following the sun when morning is chilly,
Following the shade when morning is hot.
Three benches be visited,
From the west side
of the fountain in the morning,
To the East side
when the grass is heated to dry and dews lost.
Their lustiness under footsteps.
Cigarette butts litter around,
Dogs make no effort to belong,
A banjo is playing by the fountain,
A pair of ducks rubbing necks with each other.
Shops are hanging out “Open” sign,
Coffee smells perfumed morning bodies,
An old man takes a seat by the window,
Reading the first page and keeps an eye
On the lonely lady in her purple dress.
Morning coffee in Santa Rosa,
Fresh and repeated aroma,
The same cup
And the same chair,
The same look
And the same longing,
For a warmer greeting and
A distant side-glance,
Hello, my dear….
See you soon and take care.
BOTTOM LINE SURVIVAL
Bottom Line Survival
Fill your belly,
Empty your brain,
Run wild your legs,
Tired and thin.
Get a chance,
Take a bath,
Worry less,
Let others fuss.
Hope for the best,
Hang on to the last,
Scratch Buddha's heel,
Bow to God's Seat.
So be it,
That's it.
Yes, yes, Amen,
Fate is neat,
Beat it.
Fill your belly,
Empty your brain,
Run wild your legs,
Tired and thin.
Get a chance,
Take a bath,
Worry less,
Let others fuss.
Hope for the best,
Hang on to the last,
Scratch Buddha's heel,
Bow to God's Seat.
So be it,
That's it.
Yes, yes, Amen,
Fate is neat,
Beat it.
THE MAOCRACY: MY CAT BUZZ
The Maocracy
Mao is the Chinese word for Cat 猫. It is written with a animal sigh 犬 ，which, by the way, means Dog, and a sound sign “miao” 苗,which stands for aboriginals. It is very graphic. The word Mao 毛 is also a universal word for Chairman Mao 毛主席， the Chinese Communist Party‘s former Chairman. This connection is strongly established in the modern politics and the great leader of the Chinese revolution is so famous a world icon that the word MAO is almost the sole bearer of the Chinese Chairman’s surname Mao 毛. This pronunciations has , though of a different meaning, meaning Hair 发. In the ancient Chinese, human hair is 发（pronounced as fa，) animal hair is 毛 (pronounced as mao)。 But grey hair on the head is more likely be called Mao 毛，than Fa 发. Why we go into linguistic to explain cat and hair, Chairman Mao, and Miao? That is because my cat is named Chairman Miao, and it has become a problem that we have come to refer to as the issue of the Maocracy in our little republic of the cats.
Once upon a time there is a cat called Buzz. It is a cat that a homeless family brought to the shelter where I have been working for the last 8 years. We have a rule that cats and dogs are not allowed to stay with their families in the shelter. If the family wants to stay, their pets need to be arranged to stay in somewhere else. This is one of the reason why some families or individuals refuse themselves the service of the shelter. They would rather stay with their pets. This bond is so strong that when the Donner family drove all the way from Alabama to California to stay in our shelter, they brought their cat Mimi with them. I did not see the cat Mimi for a few days until my shift. It was a cold winter night and at about 10 pm, I heard Miaomiao, a cat was at my office door. It was a black and white, short hair tabby cat. It had a little pink collar with a tag. It was raining outside and the cat looked miserable, like a soaked chicken, as the Chinese cliché says. I immediately recalled the rule of the shelter that we were not to allow the animals in. However I did not have the struggle to do or not to do. I just opened the door and let the cat in. I did not let it stay, I just let it to stay away from the rain. I was sure that it did not serve me to let the cat stay. But It was so wet that I need to dry it. It was a very cooperative cat. It let me touch it, it let me dry it. It did not struggle and when I opened a can of tuna for it, we became a relationship. It devoured the whole can of tuna in no time. It is a young cat, not quite fully grown, but I did see its potentials. It would one day be a king cat of the deserted lots and foreclosed houses. It attacked the human food tuna better than a hungry child. It licked its paws and addressing its face in a totally satisfactory manner when it finished the whole can. It must have been very hungry. It was not too difficult to approach a cat. It had its simple agendas. I watched it eating and recalled another cat its name was Dave. It was an outdoor cat. A day like this would find him still roaming the hills where my landlord and I shared a big mansion. I did not do much to care about Dave。It was my landlord’s cat, but it slept indoor anytime it came into the house through my window. It knew its ways to survive. That’s my total experience of taking care of a cat. I honestly do not know much about the Maocracy, or the ways of the cats. This one, at least for the time being, was not a problem. I decided to let it stay till the rain stopped. It stayed. It found a soft spot among our clean blankets stacked high on the shelf, and settled comfortably before I could find where it was and making no fuss, it fell sleep. I kept reading my Karl Marx and the shelter was quite. All the three houses and the residents were asleep as sound as this cat and I was the only one on watch. I could hear my supervisor’s words now in my head, “We can’t let cats or dogs in the shelter. We have small children, the animals might attack kids, and we do not want to be held liable. Yes. Sir, we would not be held liable. You have my word.” The rain stopped and I logged on the office log book that between 11 pm to 1am, a homeless cat was in the office. But I made it clear that this cat was an emergency humane service receiver, and it was not staying. After I logged in the information, I decided to turned my reading light off and go to bed. I picked up the cat and let it out. It stretched its limbs and ran into the dark night. And I ran into my dark night of dreams too.
I was awoke up by the miaomiao of a cat and its scratching and soft knocking on the door. I turned lights on and found that same cat staring at me by the door. It wanted to come in. I thought for a while, what the hack, and let it in. It went under the bed and hid there, until I got up in the morning. I turned lights on at 5.30 am and fed the cat another can of tuna. It finished the tuna in no time. It was a great sport on food.
Then one of the early risers came to the office to get some supply of toilet paper. It was Steve. He was a tall single father with a 4 year old boy. He was working for a fishing company, packing and stocking. He always got up before 6 am. He walked up to the big box where 96 rolls of extra soft, 100% recycled paper tissue, made in USA, was stacked. He took two rolls and saw the cat.
“Hi, this is my roommate’s cat!”
“is that true?”
“They lost it for a few days.”
“Where did the cat stay?”
“In their car. They rolled the window down a bit so the cat can breathe. It must have sneaked out from the window. They could not find it for three days. “
“well, in that case, tell them that the cat is in my office. “
In no time, the family came in PJ’s. They were so happy to see their cat, they called it Mimi.
The girl Caroline held the cat in her arms and kissed it profusely. And the girl’s mother, a small, fragile lady was almost in tears. The father was the head of the house, his wife had mental issues and was on social security. His name is Bob. Bob told me that the cat had come with them all the way from Arkansas and it never ran away. It enjoyed the ride and slept in the car until they arrived in our city after 2000 miles on the way. This family had been our previous clients three years ago, and now they lost their residence again. They came to California for the shelter, and they knew the rules that the pets are not allowed in the shelter. I asked them how they could take care of this cat if it ran away all the time and they suddenly asked if I would be kind enough to adopt this cat. It never occurred to me that I would keep a cat. “ It likes you, we can tell, please adopt our cat, ” both the mother and the daughter begged me. It was really sweet to think a cat would like me at first sight. I was urged on by their trust and assurance and told them that I needed to talk to my husband first.
No problem, my husband shared their verdict that the cat really liked me and we would be agreeable parents for the cat since we didn’t have children between him and me.
After work, my husband came to pick me up and this time I had for a fellow traveler a cat. I held it tight until we got home. We immediately stocked up on food and water, its litter box and its contents, and it became our cat.
It was a very beautiful cat, with brownish black strips on the forehead and white paws--“four little hoofs in the snow”, like one old Chinese poem described.
The cat loved us. It has brought a big dimension to our life. Instead of a life of two, now it has become a life of three. Instead of two watching TV, now three are watching TV. Instead of two sitting in the sofa, now three are sitting in the sofa. Instead my kissing only my husband , now I am also kissing my cat, and I believe, more than I am kissing my husband. Instead of my husband being home alone, when I am at work, he is home with a cat. Instead of having the existence of two in our household, we have an existence of three. What a change, and we welcome the change with the excitement of falling in love all over again.
2
Our relation with our cat is not a “relation” in Karl Marx’s sense. He pointed out that animals do not have relations with society. (except they are sheltered members of Sonoma humane society ). Since I have been a steady fast follower of Marxism, I call our relationship with the cat a connection. And boy, we are connected as if at first sight. Feeling our closeness with it makes us realize how terrible it must have been for the family that has to give up their pets. Since this old host family is in the shelter and I always work on Sunday shift, I decide to bring the cat to work with me, and have supervised visit with its previous family. The girl Caroline and her mother were still in bed when I arrived in their room with the cat. They suddenly woke up to this great day dream and found it real-- that their pet cat Mimi was here. The cat knew them so well that it jumped into bed and stuck its head in the pillow and started to dig. I told them that I would have the cat back when I knock off and they said they fully appreciated my consideration to let them resume their connection with that cat.
This supervised visit continued for about a month until one day I let the cat out of the bag. At our staff meeting, I somehow mentioned that the cat puupuued in the office and we had to make an emergency rescue. My supervisor asked in astonishment “Do you mean you have brought a cat to work?” Well, I have to admit guilty as charged. “If only Auntie knew, she would fly into a rage.” Auntie is our second highest supervisor. She was very fundamental in carrying rules and accept no nonsense. She was actually more authoritarian than our first supervisor. She was merciless if she was in the right and you are in the wrong. We have a coinage that to be Hilary-ed means to be busted by Hilary for our mistakes and errors. Our errors are mostly negligible, yet of enhanced importance . Our shelter closes at 8 am. The staff on site is responsible to make sure all the windows are closed and locked. All the lights are off, all the coffee makers are off and all the fans, Tvs, radios, computers and games are off. There are three houses and 7 rooms and occasionally a light was left on or a window was not locked. I had been Hilary-ed a few times because I left the office light on once or twice. So, after the staff meeting, the connection of this cat with its previous family was cut and we are the only family that still keep our connection with this animal unsevered.
One day I was in the office and my husband called me. He told me that the cat had ran away. It was a winter night and he went around the neighborhood, calling its name. By this time we had landed on a name that we have found that had grown onto us --“buzz”. Buzz was a word that easy on the lips, it had enough width and depth when shaping the mouth, and the vowel “u” puffed out loud and crispy. It carried the volume of air as long as you keep up the momentum and its sound travels as far as it can go. It is very short yet very satisfactory adequate and one can put a variety of emotions into making the sound. Our buzz certainly realized that it had been called a different name, and since it is the only one aimed at when the name is sounded, it accepted it without revolt. It became our Buzz and we really got the buzz when we address it. My husband kept the doors wide open and wrapped himself in the blanket and sat in the door way waiting for Buzz to return. It did not, and my husband lost a whole night of comfortable sleep. He was pale and disorderly when I got home in the morning. I started to Miaomiao around the neighborhood, went all the way to the back of the woods where wild cats roamed. And sure enough, our Buzz showed its little head and waited for me. I walked slowly to it, and it did not run away. It expressed a non verbal desire to be picked up and I got the message. I picked it up and held it in my arms and kissed it. The cat was not punished and was being condoned for its behavior of running away. On this point I was not quite sure if I and the cat saw eye to eye. My husband was relieved that the cat was caught but showed a little misgiving that the cat was so cooperative with me than with him. He suffered so much for staying up all night in the cold and the cat did not seem to understand its part in his misery. He went into his room and got into bed, trying to get some sleep. Buzz had not being an indoor cat. Its owner told me that Buzz was one of the 5 cats born on the farm that also has 8 dogs and 12 horses. Buzz was roaming with the dogs with the rest of its brothers and sisters. There were big open space on the farm and Buzz was a good sport. I realized that it was not possible to keep Buzz in door especially now Buzz showed early adolescent tendencies. It is more than 7 months old and it kept spraying around house. To which I was totally unaware of. Only until my husband disclosed Buzz spraying incidents did I realize that I had to understand Buzz’s behavior as sensual and materialist in nature, and we need to adopt some materialistic action to reshape its animal nature. We called the cat doc and arrange for it to get fixed. The appointment was two weeks from then and before the date, Buzz disappeared totally. We let Buzz out to the back yard and thought as usual that it would come back when it felt hungry. It had its collar and harness on its body and against all our hopes and reasoning, it did not reemerge from the back yard. At the same time the family at the shelter suddenly exited themselves without leaving a word where they were going.
3
Whether the cat ran away or got killed or kidnapped, or found its way back to the shelter and left with the family remained a mystery. Every one who knew that our cat had gone encouraged us not to lose hope because some cat would return, even it may take years. We started to receive clippings about missing cats returning, and our hope was kept high by one story that the cat returned after 13 years of absence. We surely wish that my cat can return but not after an absence as long as 13 years. It was like missing our son, and 13 years of missing our son is something incomprehensible. Our restroom on the second floor faced the back yard and it was from that back window I always found Buzz perched there, sun bathing. It always looked up at me when I miaomiaoed at it and it miaomiaoed back. We kept our dialogue going while I run down stairs to let it in. It never failed. Buzz always returned. Now it had been 3 days since Buzz left. I went to the window every ten minutes hoping to find it there. Sometime I felt that miracle could just happen before my eyes that the empty fence suddenly pushed my cat Buzz out of its wooden back and a white fur ball rolled down the fence. It started to become surreal when I gazed the fence and eagerly anticipated the white fur ball emerge. It did not materialize, and Buzz remained away somewhere in the universe. We hope against hope and our heart jumped widely every time we heard a miaomiao, sometime it is real, sometime it is only an illusion. We put all the toys in its little crib and food at the backyard in case it was hungry and looking for food. But it never showed up. We marked the date on the calendar and it had been 30 days since it ran away. My husband’s mother suggested we put out advertisement to offer 50 dollars to anyone who brought back the cat. I deadly objected to it. Buzz was a free cat, it was still free and alive. It would come back if not being held hostage. If somebody got it, why they would let it go if in the first place they already took its freedom and made it a captive. If the cat had the free will, it would use it to come back. I wound not use my money to pay ransom if somebody had it. I would not encourage pet theft and also I would not believe that if Buzz was held hostage, the owner would let it go at all. Buzz was just too cute to let go.
Mao is the Chinese word for Cat 猫. It is written with a animal sigh 犬 ，which, by the way, means Dog, and a sound sign “miao” 苗,which stands for aboriginals. It is very graphic. The word Mao 毛 is also a universal word for Chairman Mao 毛主席， the Chinese Communist Party‘s former Chairman. This connection is strongly established in the modern politics and the great leader of the Chinese revolution is so famous a world icon that the word MAO is almost the sole bearer of the Chinese Chairman’s surname Mao 毛. This pronunciations has , though of a different meaning, meaning Hair 发. In the ancient Chinese, human hair is 发（pronounced as fa，) animal hair is 毛 (pronounced as mao)。 But grey hair on the head is more likely be called Mao 毛，than Fa 发. Why we go into linguistic to explain cat and hair, Chairman Mao, and Miao? That is because my cat is named Chairman Miao, and it has become a problem that we have come to refer to as the issue of the Maocracy in our little republic of the cats.
Once upon a time there is a cat called Buzz. It is a cat that a homeless family brought to the shelter where I have been working for the last 8 years. We have a rule that cats and dogs are not allowed to stay with their families in the shelter. If the family wants to stay, their pets need to be arranged to stay in somewhere else. This is one of the reason why some families or individuals refuse themselves the service of the shelter. They would rather stay with their pets. This bond is so strong that when the Donner family drove all the way from Alabama to California to stay in our shelter, they brought their cat Mimi with them. I did not see the cat Mimi for a few days until my shift. It was a cold winter night and at about 10 pm, I heard Miaomiao, a cat was at my office door. It was a black and white, short hair tabby cat. It had a little pink collar with a tag. It was raining outside and the cat looked miserable, like a soaked chicken, as the Chinese cliché says. I immediately recalled the rule of the shelter that we were not to allow the animals in. However I did not have the struggle to do or not to do. I just opened the door and let the cat in. I did not let it stay, I just let it to stay away from the rain. I was sure that it did not serve me to let the cat stay. But It was so wet that I need to dry it. It was a very cooperative cat. It let me touch it, it let me dry it. It did not struggle and when I opened a can of tuna for it, we became a relationship. It devoured the whole can of tuna in no time. It is a young cat, not quite fully grown, but I did see its potentials. It would one day be a king cat of the deserted lots and foreclosed houses. It attacked the human food tuna better than a hungry child. It licked its paws and addressing its face in a totally satisfactory manner when it finished the whole can. It must have been very hungry. It was not too difficult to approach a cat. It had its simple agendas. I watched it eating and recalled another cat its name was Dave. It was an outdoor cat. A day like this would find him still roaming the hills where my landlord and I shared a big mansion. I did not do much to care about Dave。It was my landlord’s cat, but it slept indoor anytime it came into the house through my window. It knew its ways to survive. That’s my total experience of taking care of a cat. I honestly do not know much about the Maocracy, or the ways of the cats. This one, at least for the time being, was not a problem. I decided to let it stay till the rain stopped. It stayed. It found a soft spot among our clean blankets stacked high on the shelf, and settled comfortably before I could find where it was and making no fuss, it fell sleep. I kept reading my Karl Marx and the shelter was quite. All the three houses and the residents were asleep as sound as this cat and I was the only one on watch. I could hear my supervisor’s words now in my head, “We can’t let cats or dogs in the shelter. We have small children, the animals might attack kids, and we do not want to be held liable. Yes. Sir, we would not be held liable. You have my word.” The rain stopped and I logged on the office log book that between 11 pm to 1am, a homeless cat was in the office. But I made it clear that this cat was an emergency humane service receiver, and it was not staying. After I logged in the information, I decided to turned my reading light off and go to bed. I picked up the cat and let it out. It stretched its limbs and ran into the dark night. And I ran into my dark night of dreams too.
I was awoke up by the miaomiao of a cat and its scratching and soft knocking on the door. I turned lights on and found that same cat staring at me by the door. It wanted to come in. I thought for a while, what the hack, and let it in. It went under the bed and hid there, until I got up in the morning. I turned lights on at 5.30 am and fed the cat another can of tuna. It finished the tuna in no time. It was a great sport on food.
Then one of the early risers came to the office to get some supply of toilet paper. It was Steve. He was a tall single father with a 4 year old boy. He was working for a fishing company, packing and stocking. He always got up before 6 am. He walked up to the big box where 96 rolls of extra soft, 100% recycled paper tissue, made in USA, was stacked. He took two rolls and saw the cat.
“Hi, this is my roommate’s cat!”
“is that true?”
“They lost it for a few days.”
“Where did the cat stay?”
“In their car. They rolled the window down a bit so the cat can breathe. It must have sneaked out from the window. They could not find it for three days. “
“well, in that case, tell them that the cat is in my office. “
In no time, the family came in PJ’s. They were so happy to see their cat, they called it Mimi.
The girl Caroline held the cat in her arms and kissed it profusely. And the girl’s mother, a small, fragile lady was almost in tears. The father was the head of the house, his wife had mental issues and was on social security. His name is Bob. Bob told me that the cat had come with them all the way from Arkansas and it never ran away. It enjoyed the ride and slept in the car until they arrived in our city after 2000 miles on the way. This family had been our previous clients three years ago, and now they lost their residence again. They came to California for the shelter, and they knew the rules that the pets are not allowed in the shelter. I asked them how they could take care of this cat if it ran away all the time and they suddenly asked if I would be kind enough to adopt this cat. It never occurred to me that I would keep a cat. “ It likes you, we can tell, please adopt our cat, ” both the mother and the daughter begged me. It was really sweet to think a cat would like me at first sight. I was urged on by their trust and assurance and told them that I needed to talk to my husband first.
No problem, my husband shared their verdict that the cat really liked me and we would be agreeable parents for the cat since we didn’t have children between him and me.
After work, my husband came to pick me up and this time I had for a fellow traveler a cat. I held it tight until we got home. We immediately stocked up on food and water, its litter box and its contents, and it became our cat.
It was a very beautiful cat, with brownish black strips on the forehead and white paws--“four little hoofs in the snow”, like one old Chinese poem described.
The cat loved us. It has brought a big dimension to our life. Instead of a life of two, now it has become a life of three. Instead of two watching TV, now three are watching TV. Instead of two sitting in the sofa, now three are sitting in the sofa. Instead my kissing only my husband , now I am also kissing my cat, and I believe, more than I am kissing my husband. Instead of my husband being home alone, when I am at work, he is home with a cat. Instead of having the existence of two in our household, we have an existence of three. What a change, and we welcome the change with the excitement of falling in love all over again.
2
Our relation with our cat is not a “relation” in Karl Marx’s sense. He pointed out that animals do not have relations with society. (except they are sheltered members of Sonoma humane society ). Since I have been a steady fast follower of Marxism, I call our relationship with the cat a connection. And boy, we are connected as if at first sight. Feeling our closeness with it makes us realize how terrible it must have been for the family that has to give up their pets. Since this old host family is in the shelter and I always work on Sunday shift, I decide to bring the cat to work with me, and have supervised visit with its previous family. The girl Caroline and her mother were still in bed when I arrived in their room with the cat. They suddenly woke up to this great day dream and found it real-- that their pet cat Mimi was here. The cat knew them so well that it jumped into bed and stuck its head in the pillow and started to dig. I told them that I would have the cat back when I knock off and they said they fully appreciated my consideration to let them resume their connection with that cat.
This supervised visit continued for about a month until one day I let the cat out of the bag. At our staff meeting, I somehow mentioned that the cat puupuued in the office and we had to make an emergency rescue. My supervisor asked in astonishment “Do you mean you have brought a cat to work?” Well, I have to admit guilty as charged. “If only Auntie knew, she would fly into a rage.” Auntie is our second highest supervisor. She was very fundamental in carrying rules and accept no nonsense. She was actually more authoritarian than our first supervisor. She was merciless if she was in the right and you are in the wrong. We have a coinage that to be Hilary-ed means to be busted by Hilary for our mistakes and errors. Our errors are mostly negligible, yet of enhanced importance . Our shelter closes at 8 am. The staff on site is responsible to make sure all the windows are closed and locked. All the lights are off, all the coffee makers are off and all the fans, Tvs, radios, computers and games are off. There are three houses and 7 rooms and occasionally a light was left on or a window was not locked. I had been Hilary-ed a few times because I left the office light on once or twice. So, after the staff meeting, the connection of this cat with its previous family was cut and we are the only family that still keep our connection with this animal unsevered.
One day I was in the office and my husband called me. He told me that the cat had ran away. It was a winter night and he went around the neighborhood, calling its name. By this time we had landed on a name that we have found that had grown onto us --“buzz”. Buzz was a word that easy on the lips, it had enough width and depth when shaping the mouth, and the vowel “u” puffed out loud and crispy. It carried the volume of air as long as you keep up the momentum and its sound travels as far as it can go. It is very short yet very satisfactory adequate and one can put a variety of emotions into making the sound. Our buzz certainly realized that it had been called a different name, and since it is the only one aimed at when the name is sounded, it accepted it without revolt. It became our Buzz and we really got the buzz when we address it. My husband kept the doors wide open and wrapped himself in the blanket and sat in the door way waiting for Buzz to return. It did not, and my husband lost a whole night of comfortable sleep. He was pale and disorderly when I got home in the morning. I started to Miaomiao around the neighborhood, went all the way to the back of the woods where wild cats roamed. And sure enough, our Buzz showed its little head and waited for me. I walked slowly to it, and it did not run away. It expressed a non verbal desire to be picked up and I got the message. I picked it up and held it in my arms and kissed it. The cat was not punished and was being condoned for its behavior of running away. On this point I was not quite sure if I and the cat saw eye to eye. My husband was relieved that the cat was caught but showed a little misgiving that the cat was so cooperative with me than with him. He suffered so much for staying up all night in the cold and the cat did not seem to understand its part in his misery. He went into his room and got into bed, trying to get some sleep. Buzz had not being an indoor cat. Its owner told me that Buzz was one of the 5 cats born on the farm that also has 8 dogs and 12 horses. Buzz was roaming with the dogs with the rest of its brothers and sisters. There were big open space on the farm and Buzz was a good sport. I realized that it was not possible to keep Buzz in door especially now Buzz showed early adolescent tendencies. It is more than 7 months old and it kept spraying around house. To which I was totally unaware of. Only until my husband disclosed Buzz spraying incidents did I realize that I had to understand Buzz’s behavior as sensual and materialist in nature, and we need to adopt some materialistic action to reshape its animal nature. We called the cat doc and arrange for it to get fixed. The appointment was two weeks from then and before the date, Buzz disappeared totally. We let Buzz out to the back yard and thought as usual that it would come back when it felt hungry. It had its collar and harness on its body and against all our hopes and reasoning, it did not reemerge from the back yard. At the same time the family at the shelter suddenly exited themselves without leaving a word where they were going.
3
Whether the cat ran away or got killed or kidnapped, or found its way back to the shelter and left with the family remained a mystery. Every one who knew that our cat had gone encouraged us not to lose hope because some cat would return, even it may take years. We started to receive clippings about missing cats returning, and our hope was kept high by one story that the cat returned after 13 years of absence. We surely wish that my cat can return but not after an absence as long as 13 years. It was like missing our son, and 13 years of missing our son is something incomprehensible. Our restroom on the second floor faced the back yard and it was from that back window I always found Buzz perched there, sun bathing. It always looked up at me when I miaomiaoed at it and it miaomiaoed back. We kept our dialogue going while I run down stairs to let it in. It never failed. Buzz always returned. Now it had been 3 days since Buzz left. I went to the window every ten minutes hoping to find it there. Sometime I felt that miracle could just happen before my eyes that the empty fence suddenly pushed my cat Buzz out of its wooden back and a white fur ball rolled down the fence. It started to become surreal when I gazed the fence and eagerly anticipated the white fur ball emerge. It did not materialize, and Buzz remained away somewhere in the universe. We hope against hope and our heart jumped widely every time we heard a miaomiao, sometime it is real, sometime it is only an illusion. We put all the toys in its little crib and food at the backyard in case it was hungry and looking for food. But it never showed up. We marked the date on the calendar and it had been 30 days since it ran away. My husband’s mother suggested we put out advertisement to offer 50 dollars to anyone who brought back the cat. I deadly objected to it. Buzz was a free cat, it was still free and alive. It would come back if not being held hostage. If somebody got it, why they would let it go if in the first place they already took its freedom and made it a captive. If the cat had the free will, it would use it to come back. I wound not use my money to pay ransom if somebody had it. I would not encourage pet theft and also I would not believe that if Buzz was held hostage, the owner would let it go at all. Buzz was just too cute to let go.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
40 YEARS TO THIS DAY
四十年一聚
闭上眼
你也看得到光明
一缕柔和的白雾
就是烛光
点燃心中的死灰
击撞熄灭的火花
再给我一回震荡
再给我一次九级浪。
星星小
可点燃沉沉夜幕
蓝色垂下天帐
拥抱空旷
青草一夜织出原野
浪花一朵就是海洋
再给我一回震荡
再给我一次九级浪
四十年一聚
四十年一聚
何必走得那么急
四十年一聚
四十年一聚
四十年一直在心里
It has been 40 years
With my eyes closed
I can still see the light
That white fog
Reflects candle light
It stirs ashes
It starts another fire
Shock me with another storm
Rock me with 9 big waves
Stars brightens dark sky
Blue velvet shrouds the emptiness
Green grass covers the earth over night
A drop of water calls forth the sea
Shock me with another storm
Rock me with 9 big waves
40 years at last
40 years to this day
Slow down, don’t rush
40 years’ already pass
Slow down, let’s tarry
40 years’ to this day
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Monday, May 20, 2013
It is beyond my wildest dream, that my little boat heavy with memories would
dock at Fort Lauderdale in 2013.
In 1973, I left the Chinese
national team. It had been 7 years where
I spent my adolescent years, growing from a teenage to a young woman. It had
been the most important stage of my growing up, yet, so painful. Its memories are
not somewhere I would like to roam. Jianmin loaned me a phrase: “our memories
were instantly frozen, and was kept frozen for 40 years.” Our old buddies
scattered everywhere. For 40 years, I do
not have the courage to revisit it. I don’t want to open that ice box, in it,
all the memories remained as fresh and vivid, as 40 years ago. When it was our turn to leave our
“watergarten”. I was lost, did not know what to do, and how to pass my own private
verdict to what I had done during that age of innocence and folly. Many things
happened, we were young and wild, its romantic flavor faded, all was left was
regrets and disbelief, mistrust of any adults.
Without internet, contacts with friends are
minimum. I did keep tags on who left, who returned, who came by and who
departed. I did not have the courage
even to go to the swimming pool, just to have another look of that place which
had been my dreamland and “kindergarten”, ”boarding school”, a home away from
home, a family which was much dearer than my own. I remembered walking around
and around the building but had no courage to push the door to go in. Eventually, I knew if I fail to push that
door, that part would remain forever shut, and all the pains would fester and
poison me. I must pick up myself where the reality I could not stand to face. I need to stand on
this “brick” that had been the corner stone of my being. It was the most
difficult visit, and I had been in the “water”, “soaked like a half dead
chicken” so to speak. I had grown up here, this pool had been “my
pool”. I was almost the first kid coming to live on this famous “Tiyuguan
Road”, having spent my childhood here. I
had never missed one training class, unless I was sick, which was very rare. I
went swimming every day for years. However, from 1966 to 1969, I had not made
one dip for three years.
During our adolescent years, we the
girl swimmers were the most uninitiated about our body and our sexuality. We
were totally illiterate about sex and our emotional developments. As in the
movie Enter the Water Dragon and Diving Girls, the sexuality of athletes were
non existent, compared to the American movies, the sexual energy and drama was
totally kept out. It was the trade mark of that Red years and Non descriptive
sexuality was the brand of our Age of innocence. We tumbled into adulthood, absolutely
uninitiated, uneducated. Up to age 24, I did not know how baby was made, and I
thought the air flow in the baby, and the bed has something to do with the mystical
transmission.
Only after getting out of the water
to the land of the social jungle, did I understood, that our clothes was not 1
dollar each, and you paid to get your meals. The last two years of touring the
provinces were my only experiences with real life of the average people working
in the fields or factories. I went to the May 7th reform school to
visit my family. Dad was still an “Ox demon”, under close watch by the
revolutionary, and mom and two sisters were building houses and labored and
almost 15 people share the living quarters.
I was a “spoilt brat.” I brought some candies for them. My youngest sister told me that she wanted
something nice and could never be exhausted, and forever available, and one could always have it. I thought that must be
“sun flower seeds” because you can always have sun flower seeds, and there were
hard to crack and to finish, just so much.
My sisters said they missed me and I
for the first time broke down and felt very guilty. I remembered my sister’s
wish, as the most primal of desire, and I thought that was the desire we all
shared. It was almost as wishful, infantile, and in my later life, I had
suffered many times for cherishing the same dream that made me slow in gaining
my independence to stand on my own feet. I learned that I was “an otherwise”
person, an insider but nurtured my romantic notion of jumping to the outside
and I was lost many times.
Cultural revolution was a perfect
psycho storm, spinning the Hormones of the youth and the anxieties and neurosis
of the dying king, the mythical script, and the forces joined their devastating
indifference to lay waste to so many hearts and souls. The storm left me unable
to look at the water again. Water had remained a painful complex that I did not
visit till 2010. I eventually came around, could watch the swimming match
without feeling sad and painful.
My disconnection with my first love “water” is
eventually repaired. At Fort Lauderdale, who can imagine in all the places in
the world, it would be the beach at Florida, that we were young and happy
again, seeing our brothers and sisters we have not seen for the last 40
years. The painful memories frozen for
40 years thaw. Under the dazing sunshine and soft whispering waves, we were
calling each other by nicknames, and the manners and styles of our speech is still
as familiar as time had never done anything to our life. Of course, we are
older and bigger, me looking like a “Made In America”。With love handles more grabble.
The most precious gift I got was a
recorded message Sister Yao Youhe sent me through Ling Ning. She told me as our
big sister she hoped that I no longer suffer from remorse and she had moved on
from what happened 40 years ago. This 40 years’ remorse and guilt on my heart
had never left me during all those years, and I had went back many times in my
heart trying to find an answer to why and how.
I felt so hopeless that this would not be solved in my life time and it
pains me to think of it. Now the knot is undone and I was given a chance to say
how sorry I had been and to move on. The dark force attached to this painful
memory is brought to light and it will lose it power to injure me again. When
the dark thoughts come to contact with sunshine, with day light, being made
conscious, it has lost its gloomy magic. Such is the most precious gift I
received at Fort Lauderdale. Isn’t it a fate? Our chance to have a reunion was
such a spark , bright but fragile at the beginning, a butterfly’s dance of the
wings on the water, and now it became a landmark and highlight of life’s most
memorable experience. I bit my fingers, not once, and so did many others, to
see if we are not in a dream.
沁园春：伊人远去
沁园春
Spring in
Qin Garden ( Garden of Dews)
一诺三生，
A promise of fate
东海仙槎，
A ferry boat or the Noah Ark
西域方舟。
Take us to that promised land
听风铃夜雨，
Wind chimes in night rain
水畔消息，
Tidings from the waves
山林猿啸，
A wild call from the jungle,
夕阳暮钟。
Evening bell tolls to the setting sun
仗剑独行，
A lonely traveler
枯毫孤苦，
A lonely writer,
酒冷谁在小月楼？
Who is toasting to the new moon?
海平阔，
The sea endless and smooth,
看树梢老星，
An ancient star over the tree top,
依旧从容。
Looking down at the world as before。
相思情困语柔，
Sigh softly, when lover is gone
随水去，踏沙尾浪头。
Strolling on the sand, chasing the waves
追惊鸿旧影；
Bygone days return
挽月箫声；
Flute sings to the moon
乾坤天演，
Natural elements follow their course
机缘地推。
Fate and chances self-operating。
心路渐宽，
A wider road opens to my heart
命格不窄，
One's destination is foretold
一江扬波尽放喉。
The river rolls loud on its way
欲何求，
What do I wish but
借风流半盏，
To borrow a half cup of romance
一夜清秋。
And a clear autumn night
念奴娇 海角天涯
念奴娇 海角天涯
Fort Lauderdale beach
天风夏雨，
Winds and summer showers
掠拂得，南北东西如洗。
wash the sky clear and clean
一水横垣人道是
of water to behold
帆小舟轻跳日。
Sails and boats far,
sun dips over sea
三岸波平，
All around, water smooth
春秋闻旧，
Stories of bygone days
赤足拾捡起。
Remembered walking on the sand
水上水下，
In and out of water
龙鱼沙里得趣。
Dragons and fish having a good time in the sand
携来百侣凌波，
Hundred friends joined us in the sea
登船下海去，
Up to the boat, down to the water
众人淘气。
Playing like kids
旧事他年说未完，
Countless old stories
浪里风头游戏。
Rock and roll in the waves
正好长啸，
Hear the long shout from the jungle
何须苦吟，
No more sad poems
倾城有吴玉。
Wu has left his priceless jade
国人传递，
We pass it on
水军旗帜云际。
See our flags in the winds
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