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September 16, 2004

Posted by anoddphrase in Uncategorized.
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i wrote this for a friday paragraph (yeah, we have those here…). it ended up being kinda long, and yes, i know it’s not a paragraph :P… but she let’s us go at loose translations of paragraphs… 😛 enjoy.


 


a trick of the light


 


 


 


the sun is setting


            (you can hardly see it through the crowded, dusty Beijing streets


                                                            clouds of brown-grey pollution


                                                                        swelling and rising


                                                                                    from dark


                                                                                                black


                                                                                          holes out from


                                                                                       the bottom of dubious,


                                                                                                            mysterious


                                                                                                               cars and vehicles


 


                                                                           slowly swaying


 


                                                                                      with the mesmirizing


                                                                        motions


                                                                               of Indian dancers


                                                                        {like that]  laid out with chains


                                                                                       like waterfalls


                                                                                     of thick, heavy gold


                                                                                                            that ripples


                                                                                                         and clinks up


                                                                                                     against each other


                                                                                          –to a rhythm


                                                                                                that can’t be heard


                                                                                                            {only felt}      


and as only seen


through the haze


of blue-opium air}


                                                if you stare


                                                long enough


                                       you can see it dissipate


                                                               in the air…)


 


 


            perhaps, I am only imagining it…


 


                                                            the light trickling slowly


                                                                        out of the bright


                                                                              blue sky…


                                                                                                                        (   like the


                                                                                                                 water from a  


                                                                                                                            clogged-up


                                                                                                                        sink.)


                              …but the atmosphere


                              around me, is changing…


 


                                                            the atmosphere from midday morning


                                                                                     and midday afternoon


                                                                                                … and out from


                                                                                                late afternoon,


 


                                    where the city life


                                           (and its rush)


                                                seem to slow down..    infintessimally.


 


 


                                                                                    the beeps of rush hour traffic


                                                                                                soften to the soothing


                                                                                                            hush  and hum


                                                                                                   of its midnight soundtrack,


 


                                                where the lovers


                                                    grow coy    and once again,


                                                                 unfamiliar,


                                                            in this new fading, golden light


                                                                                                of sundown..


                                                     holding hands as they


                                                                        wander down an avenue


                                                                  debating silently with each other


                                                                                    in words,


 unspoken,


                                                                              but for mutual motions of


                                                                                                       affection,


                                                                                            {shy,


                                                                                                 and lingering body language


                                                                                    slanted gently towards the other)


 


                                       where a daughter


                                                and a mother


                                             come out of their apartment


                                          ,just after dark,


                                                            to sit and lean against each other


                                                                                    on a bench on the side of the street


                                                                             to peel string beans


                                                                                    and talk about their day…


 


 


 


 


or maybe,


            it’s just a trick of the light


                                    {that’s now, mostly gone—


                   (rays,


                        reflected off tiny and large


                                                dirt particles


                                           in the thick, still-summer air    })


 


                                                                                                            and manipulated


   off the passing


                                                                                                                         wind,


                                                                                                                        into the eyes…


 


                                                                                                that interprets them


                                                                                                     as they see it.


 


 


 


-Angela Tse H’05


 


Ms. Hendricks


Block C


September 9, 2004


 

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Comments»

1. Fairyskisses77 - September 16, 2004

Agh, God, this was good! Definitely one of your best!!!that damn trick of the light… always itches at my mind….


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