My Poetic Ramblings - Page 6
INDEX - Click on one to read (Songs and song-2-be's should be blinking. =)
I'll Be There - [Les Miz re-write]
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Empty Means to Empty Causes - [Les Miz re-write]
Now & Then [the Cappuccino Coffee Bean Series] #3: THE MULBERRIES
The Lost Tofu
Toe-Nails
Wildberry Ramble
Star Light, Star Bright
Good Morning, Grey Sky!
Now & Then [the Cappuccino Coffee Bean Series] #2: THE TRAIN TICKET
Now & Then [the Cappuccino Coffee Bean Series] #1: THE RAIN
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This is a re-write (lyrics) of a song from the musical Les Miserables. Try singing it if you know the tune. Click on the link On My Own if you want a MIDI-accompanied version.
I'll Be There (August 12, 1999)
Copyright (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. Deserved Rights Reserved. Copyrights of the original musical acknowledged.
- source: On My Own (Les Miserables)
- re-lyricked =D
Time goes by The hours never stop to wait Words run dry Too much to say yet I hesitate Stories fade Into a whirl of shadows When a thousand stars are watching from above In silent shimmer I raise my hands And touch the deep blue evening sky Beneath the stars Are ghosts of snowy butterflies From a distance I can hear the hush of moonlight And I can see a silhouette Admist the passing seasons Though it's cold To tread on winter snow Though it's darker than the moment Before the dawn Though it's hard To walk against the wind Still I say It will worth the fight I'll be there To separate the days and nights And let the sun Divide the clouds and shine its light Inside me There's a song from long ago I won't give up and walk away Without a proper struggle I'll be there To stand beside you through the years When you need A friend to shatter all your fears Remember I promise you this tonight I know it sounds impossible But I will find a way I'll be there I'll be there I'll be there Although the time goes by
4SP&tSPD (For Some People and the Some People Dilemma..) =) This is a re-write (lyrics) of a song from the musical Les Miserables. Click on the link Empty Chairs and Empty Tables if you want a MIDI-accompanied versopm.
Empty Means to Empty Causes (August 2, 1999)
Copyright (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. Deserved Rights Reserved. Copyrights of the original musical acknowledged.
- source: Empty Chairs and Empty Tables (Les Miserables)
- re-lyricked =D
I don't understand it myself Though I hope sometimes you would Empty means to empty causes I don't do the things I should Every time I write a letter Every time I hesitate Should I start one for you also And then throw it into the flames Many times I want to give up Writing letters all together But many times I also wonder What are we? Are we just Two strangers who once walked side by side Who've chosen parallel paths Ever since the silent storm at dawn? Oh my friend, my friend, forgive me But I give the best I could I don't understand it myself Though I hope sometimes you would Phantom faces where I wander Phantom shadows where I turn Empty means to empty causes Still the fire in my eyes would burn Oh my friend, my friend, don't ask me What the things we do are for Empty means to empty causes Contradictions grow more and more
Now & Then
#3: THE MULBERRIES (July 30, 1999)
The Lost Tofu (July 7, 1999)
Toe-Nails (May 19, 1999)
Wildberry Ramble (May 9, 1999)
Star Light, Star Bright (April 30, 1999)
Good Morning, Grey Sky! (April 23, 1999)
Now & Then
#2: THE TRAIN TICKET (April 14, 1999)
Now & Then
#1: THE RAIN (April 8, 1999)
Comments and suggestions more than welcome. � 1997 [email protected]
-- the Cappuccino Coffee Bean Series --
Copyright (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. All Rights Reserved.
I used to call it crimson
and stop dumb in my tracks
at every flash of crimson and brown
and ordinary denim and sneakers;
too many times,
when I later reflected upon the day's adventures
I'd laugh it off again and again.
And no I have not been overdosed with Crimson Tides.
But now
my roomie walks in with the exact same shade
of overwhelming crimson,
and when the setting sun silently saunters
across
the western hills,
and in the midst of its after-dinner stroll,
generously streams in
to merge its fierily blistering rays
with the crimson mist already
stirriNG AND
whirLING AND
buBBLING AND
BURNING
in a wild steaming carnival of frenzy inside.
I decide to add Crimson Tides to my overdose-list
when my roomie smiles knowingly and says,
"It's mulberry."
"Huh?"
"I believe mulberry is the word you are looking for;
it's more mulberry than crimson."
I will probably spend the rest of the day
sitting and staring until the last bit of log flicks out
as the crimson tides across the mulberry field
slowly
melts
into the serenity
of silver moonbeams.
Copyright (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. All Rights Reserved.
It seems
that I ate some Tofu today
Without knowing how or when;
I cannot even recall the taste,
nor whether the Tofu I had was Greek style,
or Chinese.
It seems
that I am getting better and better each day
accomplishing things
without the slightest lifting of my hands.
I think I drifted through today
the way I drifted through yesterday,
and apparently,
I ate some Tofu along the way.
I think I would like to eat some more
of those mysterious Tofu again.
Copyright (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. All Rights Reserved.
Wild geese
wading
through mulberry bushes
glide into some invisible amoeba
every other minute
on rainy &
chilly summer days
Time flies, n'est-ce pas?
mindlessly running through sheers of raindrops
& splatting through multitudes of puddles
like in mine-sweeper
except license plates blurred by rain
are extremely hard to read
without glasses
on foreign grounds
"Akqpea ta. . .
zpi qcpmg rcp iamm ta fvbqv eijia fa jla bd?"
"Daf Rclw (rcp bgbci)."
"Ivjdk."
the morning star was crawling up
to scare away monstrous dinosaurs
but people were at Tim Hortons then
Always remember time flies--
gazing at the Big Dipper
in the middle of the evening sky
is gazing into history--
the only other way yet to move back through time
because time flies, n'est-ce pas?
Four years & eight seasons it must be
so maybe until then
or maybe until the end of time
time flies. . .
look--it still does, n'est-ce pas?
Copyright (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. All Rights Reserved.
A forbidding dawn
Strings of clouds
Weightless & thoughtless & shapeless
Shifting & stirring lazily
At the ambiguity of the horizon
That uncertain boundary
Between the conscious
& the subconscious
At times floating above
At times sinking below
At times surrounding everything
At times slumbering in a disant corner
Beneath the horizon
The cotton-candy creatures can neither seep
Nor creep
No matter how much the sun shines
Or the rain rallies
At & above the surface of the water
Gold & steel have to be dug for to be mined
A song has to be sung to be heard
What lies inside has to be searched for to be found
The truth is out there.
Every dawn will break
But before it does
The darkest & the most difficult
Must reign the air
Although the water is clear
It is not often seen
Because it is especially harder to see
In the darkest before dawn
Only gazing into the pond deep within
Will remind you who you are
& where you came from
Otherwise dreams will go on forever
& forever is not /just a word/
It is a long time
Wake up
Sleepy-heads
Wake up
Dream-bounds
Yes
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you don't wake up yet
How can you say you know what is black
& what is white
If you don't look with your own eyes
How can you say you see things through
At the click of your fingertips
If you don't walk your own ways
But parade along someone else's path
With half-closed eyes & hearts
How can you say you are living your life
As a firm & correct human being
Wake up
& lend an ear
To the wildberry rambler
Copyright (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. All Rights Reserved.
Scattered
amongst a zillion light-houses
in the middle of the night sky
are all of those wishes we ever so solemnly spoke,
as well as those which we never shared
but kept to ourselves intead--
past wishes,
present ones,
sincere ones, playful ones, sweet ones,
or even painful ones
--every single wish
every one of us
has ever wished
ever
end up quite Scattered
amongst a zillion light-houses
in the middle of the night sky.
Copyright (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. All Rights Reserved.
My first conscious stir
out of dreamland
at 6 A.M.
opened my eyes
to a chilly Napoleon-fall morning
in Ottawa;
darkness is 20,000 kilometers away,
but the sky is lifelessly grey,
anyway.
The craziest ideas
usually would flash and pierce through
my tangling electrical neuron webs
in times like this--
no, examples are better left
unsaid, unheard
--reminding me of thunder storms
or the clashing and grinding
of metal on a battle field full
of noisy soldiers and horses and chariots.
The other day I looked up
"Lucifer" in the dictionary, troubled
why the godfather of all evil
was given the honour and nobility
to fall in flame and swords.
Well what do you know?
Did you know that it had a fair poetic meaning
on top of the proper one?
I certainly didn't.
Anyway, so I went back to sleep again.
(What?! Did you think that I would go to work
at 6 o'clock in the morning?! Forget it!!)
I ended up sleeping away 12 hours that day.
Really.
-- the Cappuccino Coffee Bean Series --
Copyright (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. All Rights Reserved.
I used to keep a train ticket
of a train I took from one city to another
just casually along the portraits of past friends
and present ones;
time skipped by,
every memory reached out their eager hands to touch
that jovial, impatient creature; some held on, skipped away,
and some got glued onto that train ticket of long ago,
left behind, immobile.
But now
every time I see a green, giant truck proudly named
Canadian Waste System
drive by, or catch the pleasantly
triangular symbol of three equally green
crooked arrows
chasing one another's tail,
I cannot help
but surrender to the gust of gentle wind
that treads
across the surface of the creeks and the lakes and the rivers
that dance inside my veins.
What was hushed asleep
now lies disturbed;
What was a train ticket I kept
now haunts
with sixteen smaller pieces,
missing
from the neatly-arranged stack of portraits
of past friends. . .
. . .and present ones.
-- the Cappuccino Coffee Bean Series --
Copyright (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. All Rights Reserved.
I used to frown at the sight
of the raindrops inconsiderately invading
the what was previously spotless window glasses
in my bedroom;
for one thing,
it was wet and drippy, and especially a pain
when you wanted to go outside and play.
The stupid rain clouded up the sky and kept the sun away!
But now
I've begun to grow fond of these silent, solitary,
rainy strolls--you know, being able to hear
the click-cluck's of your own heels
bouncing up and down the pavement
and
echoing off the tree-tops,
or. . . the roof-tops
of the row of street-side houses
one after another
or. . .
the grandious, the graceful, the slight
arching in the windshields
of the cars parked in simultaneous mute along the way
admist
the trickles
of spring showers
and summer drizzles.
It helps me remember things. . .
. . .you know.
Copyrighted (c) 1999 Yifan Zhu. All Rights Reserved.
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