see, see

See, reflect.

See again. 

Photo: Tree and tadpole pond, Kaitoke, New Zealand

as

As we are, we are. Somehow, 
when I see a horse,
this is what I hear.
Photo: Horse, Bahia, Brazil

sleepless

All night the wind

changes its mind.

Photo: Above Phnom Penh, above Cambodia

hum, city, hum

                 we ask
           is walking and freedom the same thing?
                           the way we step
        into stride
                  with the soft scissors of our metronome arms
                      sometimes we hum
Photo: Tarragona, Spain
Text: The opening lines of the poem 'the act of walking'
in the series 'hum, city, hum' (Delicate Access, 2004)

play the day

The past ho ho ho days have been play, with six children and wonder, midnight doves, a large white polyester roll ball, 
watching strips of newspaper swirl as they land, shoulder rides
in a castle, guessing birthdays, stacking
colo(u)rs on the fork... 
Photo: In a playground, Paris 

beyond

Eyelids meet as I touch words.  

A soft darkness where peace has been prepared.

Photo: Entrance hall of Beyond Baroque (http://www.beyondbaroque.org/),

a literary/cultural/community centre in Los Angeles

Text: from 'Something Beautiful Might Happen' (2010) p 9

tree, tree

Tree, tree, stand

inside

me.

Photo: Below a Flame Tree, Australia

Text: Poem from the series 'to nature' 

in my book 'delicate access', page 101

ho ho ho

In Cantonese, 'ho' means both 'very' and 'good'.
Very merry... Very.
Photo: Cookies/Biscuits, before eyes and beards, New Zealand
In my family, we light candles + sing + give today, 24 Dec. Ho. 

twinkle, twinkle

Photo: Bromillia flower, New Orleans

The gardener told me he chose the flower for its Mardi Gras colo(u)rs.

I choose it for a different reason.

somehow, snow

I see snow and sidewalks, 
late in season, 
melting, dirty, scraping.
Photo: Wall and sea, Shek O, Hong Kong

effortlessly

                                            


































                                           Rain falls like flowers at my feet,
runs down the window of a parked car, effortlessly. I turn the
corner, every road has the shadow of a season I once loved.
Photo: Street scene, Hong Kong
Text: Opening of the poem, Sheung Wan, 3 a.m.
from the book, Something Beautiful Might Happen (2010)

synesthesia

Looking out these windows,
we are tasting dark cherries.
Photo: Queenslander home, Brisbane, Australia

writing is, as, singing

Photo: On a Wellington wall, New Zealand

open

What is a poem 
but an opening.
Photo: The window of the study in Thoor Ballylee, 
home to WB Yeats and family, Ireland

winged

Fly, pig, fly. 
Photo: Fujian, China

as if to say

then
he
kissed
me
as
if
to
say
he
was
sorry
he
still
loved
me
Photo: Chairs on a night sidewalk, Tai Hang, Hong Kong
Text: excerpt from the poem 'when he said'

extras

And the balance of beauty was wanted.

Photo: Three bustles from the 1800s, from the 'Fashioning Fashion'

exhibition, Los Angeles County Museum of Art

Text: Excerpt of my poem, 'Beige keeps being born'

silver in water

Does moonlight ever sin?
Does a river miss the past?
Photo: Carp in pond, Suzhou, China
Text: Two poems from the series, 'To Nature', 2004

winter tree

Draw me a winter tree, the infinite delicate, silhouettes of black rivers and visible fingers, make a large winter head full of naked elegant thought.

Draw me, draw me a winter tree, with hundreds of muses reaching for the altar tip, knowing that below, roots make a mirror of this.
Photo: New Iberia Station, seen through train window, Louisiana
Text: The poem 'Winter Tree' was published in Delicate Access, 2004

man, horizon

In Chinese, the expression

'people mountain people sea'

means a huge crowd.

Photo: Gamboa Island, Bahia, Brazil

please,

Please,
a slow seeing
is the revolution of kindness.
Photo: At a hatmaker's, Hue, Vietnam
Text: an excerpt of my poem 'the act of walking'

river, tide, dine



Maybe it's time to eat some beauty

so we can make more.

Photo: By the Thames, at the home of a friend, London



laughter, frontier

I once wrote in a self-portrait
poem: How the laugh is needed. 
It's the last frontier.
Photo: Nun and roses, Sienna, Italy

line, skyline

Los Angeles: People homeless, handcuffed, H-U-R-T-S spelled in graffiti, the fearful passenger beside me says she will be met by someone at rehab, xiaolongbao, matzoh, mushu, palm, friendship, familyship, green cross for marijuana, bars on windows, stucco, smog, fifty-inch TV. This is the birthplace of my poetry, where rivers may be freeways.
Photo: A lookout in Los Angeles; the Hollywood sign behind me

what is left

I wanna make a song
or a mobile.
Photo: Adhesive letters left on street, Los Angeles

still life

Gimme poetry, blues and
humming solitude.
Photo: A metal surface, location forgotten

sun, vein, green

Green lives the need to respect. Makes grassland honest. Seduces moss. Affirms trees. And leaves decide its maze.
Photo: Sun through wild taro leaf, Hong Kong
Text: Excerpt from my poem 'whole' on the colo(u)r green

seeing, seen

Focus. Float.  
Photo: Shepherd, northwest India
Taken on a documentary assignment with 
Oxfam Hong Kong after 2001 earthquake

layer, prayer

Sometimes the photograph is nostalgia,

that pain and return.

Photo: Window, San Francisco



wide, wider

A Chinese word for 'thing' is
'east' and 'west' together. Wide,
wider, deeper. Please touch.
Photo: An A-bombed piece of glass from the Peace Museum, held by my sister elin in Hiroshima
An essay she wrote: http://www.japanfocus.org/-elin_o_Hara-slavick/3196
Her blog from 2008: http://elinhiroshima.blogspot.com/

mirror, mirrors

And so we dance. Giving, jiving,

loving, using, choosing, chosen.

Let's.

Photo: Laundry, Tarragona, Spain

(also cover image for 'A Lover's Soliloquy' by Eddie Tay)

on the train

Photo: On the 'Sunset Limited' train
near Texas/Arizona/Mexico borders

on the river

Photo: On a ferry across the Mississippi River