Make “Chinglish” a Poem

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Discovered this cute little ladyboy from one of the laundries I have done in my life. I reckon she has the same cuteness as my “Chinglish”.

Chinglish, Chinglish…

Rock, Rock, Rock  …

My writing style…

You are so “Cute”, aren’t you?

Each language got beautiful side.

And I love to make  you Biutiful…

You may get Public Enemies… 

But nothing can stop being yourself.

You are not formal language.

But  U  are the best way to express yourself.

You are your own language, I love you.

I believe You Are Not Alone.

British English could be your GrandPa;

American & Canadian English could be your parents;

Australian English could be your old bro or sis.

See?  You are Little Princess.

Trust me. I will make you Queen when you meet the right Prince.

And build up your own family & have children’s children

to carry on your family name–Chin (ese). 

As long as Chinese & English survive, you will survive.

God bless you, A’men.

PS: Originally –

Tree of Life (Part One)

Be Empty

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Spiritually, too full.

Full of too many feelings, thoughts and imaginations.

Meanwhile, there is fear.

Fear of mankind, of the unknown world.

Life is a solid wall.

Sometimes, you have to break it, ruin it;

Sometimes, you have to climb up and stride over it;

Sometimes, you have to make a hole, a window of it;

Sometimes, or maybe sometimes,

You just have to let go, be empty.

Empty, empty, empty.

From head to toe, from one pocket to another.

Till you can embrace it, as to embrace the darkness.

Maybe Lao Tzu was right. –

To become learned, each day add something.

To become enlightened, each day drop something.

So, time to drop, time to enlighten.

Meanwhile, to become learned.

Learn through traveling, traveling all alone.

Through the shadow of a solitary beauty;

Through what you really see.

So, let the journey begin.

From south to north, from one place to another.

Sometimes, fly up in the air;

Sometimes, pass some bends;

Sometimes, stay still.

All full of joy, surprise and adventure.

So what? So what?

Drop, drop, drop;

Add, add, add;

Drop, drop, drop.

To become wildly naked.

Yet, holy blessed.

PS:

Before writing the second novel, I’m going to throw myself into the crowds, to empty myself with madness, to sketch, to experience something new and afterwards, to survive from zero.

Therefore, on 27th, I’ll travel alone to Beijing, Shanghai, Suzhou, Nanjing, Wuzhen and Hangzhou. For Beijing, I’m going to face the fear and power. For Shanghai, I’m going to get lost into material world. For Suzhou, I’m going to feel the classical form of beauty. For Nanjing, I’m going to try to understand thoroughly about war and hatred. For Wuzhen, I’m going to explore the possibilities of recovering one’s original simplicity. For Hangzhou, I’m going to feel like a nun, imagining to drown in the West Lake.

Then, I shall doom myself again for In Between.

Beauty of Mystery

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Untitled…

Under the water, the color is simply gray.

You might imagine some angels making love with some demons.

Yet the angels merely sing: C’est La Vie…

Above the water, a whirlpool is drumming.

Soon the red leaf breaks the crystals.

And the green awakes from his nightmare…