“And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it…” Luke 19:41 … More A Poetic Portrait of My Jerusalem
Intoxication reeks of combustible ethanol on a head-ached opaque late morning. Even with all the force and platitudes dispensed from a historical milieu about the folly of drinking, the eminence of c’est la vie prevails. Even with how much you want to dash out the spoiled offspring of fermentation with obsequious courtesy, the bastard called … More C’est la vie Paris and be drunk!
Sagrada Familia’s taciturn shadow casts a long and languid image of a black hair of a woman too nonchalant about the day. It collects within itself Gaudi’s genius and lunacy of a vertical homage to God whose spires are too magnificent and bewildering to our distinctive thirst of artistic expression. Inventive and striking beyond our … More Woman with a Heart so White in Barcelona
Mountains have their essence, their own distinct character and conscience. They also serve as a geological totem on the history of myth-making and socio-cultural definition on the convergence of people. In my imagination they most often loom oppressively large, majestic and breathtaking. This is congruent to my limited experience of climbing local mountains and the … More Jordan’s Mt. Nebo and our Moseses
I looked at it from a distance with eyes of quiet wonder and amazement. From the comforting shadows in one of the areas near the gate where there were not many tourists, I stared and contemplated like a young child who had been shown ice the first time, as how Garcia-Marquez described and opened up … More Taj Mahal in the Sadness of the Emperor of Time
N “Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain.” – Mary Elizabeth Frye That was the day I saw … More Auschwitz Poems and the Act of Remembering
At the end of it, Nanjing disarmed us in an unconsolable way. We may have never discovered its musicality and the greatness of life’s poetry if we stuck to its interpretation of a future-looking Chinese megalopolis that straddles the Yangtze River delta. I might have completely missed a lyrical description and imminent approximation of art … More The Red Sorghum of Nanjing