![]() The Highest Joy: for Helena Qi Hong The moment I inject All my selfhoods Into your body My soul dissolves Into the moisture Of your love Like a snowflake Falling into a hot spring The Joy of Sexual Love At last, I’ve become One and the same With you as I join You both in body & in Spirit, but how come I cannot hear my Own heart beats? What has happened To my ears? Even Your laughter is no Sound, but sweet Light, while your Touch is not feel But a fragrant taste Just as your smile Is not look, but a Bright atmosphere As all my senses Start to malfunction I know I’ve lost My entire selfhood Deep in character As in synesthesia The Joy of Talking: for Li Lan We could never stop talking Just couldn’t really get Enough of it. Or, to be More exact, couldn’t Get enough of each other As we keep talking about Everything (or nothing) As if it were love per se As if it were more soul- Melting than having sex Even after we join each Other both inside out Across the Pacific And the Pandemic Like two entangled quanta Inter || Course: the Joy of Reading Come on baby! Come on Push hard, just A bit harder! Push deep Just a bit deeper! Oh yeah Oh, yeah! That’s it All the way into my heart I have not had So much joy For a long time. Oh yeah How I enjoy it A total ecstasy! Oh How I wish to die Of organism! Yeah But I am never in love With a man. Nor have I ever fucked a half-boy Except a real reader Handsome or not Now I got you right in my grasp Oh, please, harder & deeper Reverie Gushing Out of his Frame of Selfhood & flowing Into her Innermost Lake His missing for her Kept splashing Along The wild Stream Of last night Until it Joins her At dawn Like a waterfall I Writer; Therefore, I Am: The Joy of Writing How I wished to find meaning in life Like everyone else, always busy Trying to make some sense out of Their small existences. By making A name. By striking rich. Or by gaining Power in an office, but alas, they’re all Ethereal, even if they Could change the shape of this world The true meaning of life, if any at all Is to create one out of it; for instance By writing and loving. In fact, by Living & writing about my life, I’m Living twice & will attain immortality What I say is, to write is to live Not only in this moment but to live for ever As writing offers traceable permanence Eternalizing & transcending the idea of time Though the words are subject to editing Misunderstanding; to accidental deletion To permanent loss during transmission As to fire & water, no matter whether they Are printed in paper or stored in cyberspace Yuan Changming grew up in an isolated village, started to learn the English alphabet in Shanghai at age 19 and published monoragpohs on translation before leaving China. With a Canadian PhD in English, Yuan edits Poetry Pacific with Allen Yuan in Vancouver. Credits include 12 Pushcart nominations for poetry and 2 for fiction as well as 16 chapbooks and appearances in Best of the Best Canadian Poetry (2008-17), among 2,019 others across 49 countries. A poetry judge for Canada's 44th National Magazine Awards, Yuan began to write and publish fiction in 2022, with his first (hybrid) novel Bamakoola: Paradise Regained forthcoming in 2025. |
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