Friday, June 21, 2013

Welcome to Canada

Yesterday I met a man on the bus.
He found it offensive that we spoke Chinese in public.
He said, "This is Canada. We speak English here. And French."
He said, "Lots of people feel the same way but they keep quiet about it."
He paused.

"People are too tolerant," he said.

We arrived at his stop and as he got off he turned back, saying:

Welcome to Canada.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

June viewfinder

Big:
Indecision -
That devil which poisons all
and even permeates the impervious heavens

As in the skies, so below

How can we,
     mere human,
resist?
Medium:

     green
a lush cloud of leaves
blowing in the wind like a crush of emerald waves
in worlds of foam which crest and fall
hiding pearls behind their bubbly backs


Small:

soft spikes,
fruit like sea urchins
You take after your parents
Children, don't be difficult
for Time will take you even from yourself,
eventually.



I meant to post this yesterday night but then I decided to take a nap... and ended up sleeping until 9:30 am. Oh well, I'd say that's well deserved after a busy school year. Need to refuel for exam week now.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Two Rain Poems

Apostrophe
O Rain, have mercy --
Beneath the lashes of your whip we cower;
We run for shelter, and find you have captured us,
O Rain,
in those prison cells we call schools and offices and homes.

Wet Vancouver (a quasi haiku)
Wet Vancouver,
It's 4 days till June.
Why must you torture us so?

road trip

from Chilliwack to home
Silence in the car,
the clouds above cow country accumulating in warm, pregnant layers,
far-reaching and tearful as an overprotective mother.

I blink in the backseat,
fighting sleep until
I don't want to fight anymore.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Recipe for a Reedmaker

1 part talent
2 parts strength
Cane and thread of a considerable length

A couple sharp knives
Razor blades too
The knack for stubbornness through and through

Most importantly, 9 parts frustration
And 10 parts mad -
Now hopefully your reeds won't all be bad.

It SUCKS to be an oboist. Clarinetists think the have it bad but no, they don't even know the beginning of it. I must have been very annoyed on Monday otherwise I wouldn't have been driven to write a RHYMING poem, of all things.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

In Other Words, the Oboe


Oh my goodness, this is going to be my last concert in Vancouver for who knows how long. If you are around, please come.

Maxine

Oh Maxine,

I've only met you once, and only for a few minutes, but that doesn't mean I can't be in love. You had me at first sight. I spotted you crossing the street, looking dashing in black and white. I crossed quickly behind you - I smiled as our eyes met. You approached me readily, naively, innocently, yet steadily. Your voice when you spoke was soft and sweet as a cat's meow. I wanted to hold your small slender body and stare into your large endearing eyes forever... but you saw your father approaching across the road and I had to pretend I had somewhere to go --

My dear Maxine, will I ever see you again?

                          Yours, in hopes that this will somehow find its way back to you in case I don't,
                           MRF

This is about a cat by the way. A cat named Maxine who I met yesterday while walking with a friend. It's basically a true story, except her father was actually rather nice and chatted with us for a while, and we really did have to run away for fear of being late to a rehearsal. Ah Maxine-the-manx-cross, you are so adorable. I nearly died from cuteness overload. Maxine, if you or your daddy are out there reading this, you absolutely made my day yesterday. I wish you all the happiness and cuteness a cat can have in her happy cat life.