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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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Sleeping Among Strangers

  

They were snorting out of their dreams

but I can’t enter their dreams

 

Nor do they know there is someone outside

listening to the noise of their dreams with deafened ears

 

Distant sounds stopped at the curtain rarely lifted by wind

the door was open, no sound in the corridor

 

except the air-conditioning

 

Every dreamer hugged his quilt very hard

as if a fluid of dreams were trickling

 

from their slit throats, ears, seeping

through my sound-wall, like faraway waves reaching the shore

 

I could only hear, faintly, on this side of the bank

their voiceless howl. Muffling my ears, I went for

 

a pitch-black, dreamless room in this hospital night  

when each dreamer, turned against the light

 

played with their own sources of light in their dreams

throwing it on the curtain, making me sleepless 

 

                                                         -Peter Feng



Prisoner of Time

  

Behind the illusion-grille, he who exists partially

Reaches out to the wall that also exists partially  

 

In a rain of errors, everything that goes on, goes on

The rain comes down heavily in memory’s hometown

 

At home, he sees the meat on the table

He throws it to the shadow; the shadow gulps it down

 

He eats it too. The eaten meat comes back to the table

In the back he feels a little pain

 

The grille is radiant like a rainbow

Surrounding him with now. He has his fill and walks around

 

Reaching out to the wall that appears to him

At the moment of his reaching out

 

He is thinking about escaping through the leaf while

Back and forth, the wall ticks and ticks

 

An inundation of time’s rays, time’s shadows

Outside (the) time, it’s utter darkness

 

The leaf stands still, nothing happens

He who lives part by part is now taking a walk

 

In a strangely illuminated room, its light

Coming from no one knows where

 

He is trying to remember. Having eaten the meat

He now reaches out to the wall, again 

 

                                          -Peter Feng

 



[These two poems were born out of the current political situation in China.]