酷我-北美枫

[ericcoliu]

Reading and Writing: Life on the Page


The Writing on the Wall of the Kardia

ggggggggggggggggggggg Most of us can read the writing on the wall; we just assume it's addressed to someone else.
ggggggggggggggggggggg -- Ivern Ball

I In the Beginning

I feel the call upon me and try to answer it as fully as I can. I take the risk to free what is inside me, to let it out into the open. Writing is also an escape from a world that crowds me. Through it, I build a room of my own and practise mindful meditation -- an investigation into my life. I do not know yet what will emerge; I do know that after a piece of my writing has burst on pages and unashamedly taken up its own life. It unsettles me. It seems larger than my life and rawer than I expected. For it is the act of coping, an attempt to end discords within me. It is to feed some hunger or work through an intensely dissonant experience, only then regaining some control.

I Take my pen ......

II During the Process

Writing is a surgical process, cutting my embodied story down to its barest essentials. Telling a story with the pen is like using a scalpel. There is a beating heart left there, bleeding on the page. All wounds will be stitched. Writing also functions as a container. I can keep pouring out all of my pain into that vessel. It doesn’t tell me to get better, to get over it, and to move on with my life. Rather it smiles at me, telling me, “Give me more and more of your pain.”

III Up to This Moment

Keep on Writing

I write, I write; I keep on writing
I take refuge in written words
The words I weep with and for
As long as I am writing
My pain is less piercing


IV Hopefully, in the End

(The following piece was accepted and published in the Spring 2008 Issue (online & print) of The Stellar Showcase Journal, a literary journal affiliated with the Canada Cuba Literary Alliance and The Canadian Federation of Poets)

To Write in Canada

To write is to transport
What is felt inside you
Into an art form outside you

To write is to translate
What is haunting your heart
For the agora of minds

To write in Canada is to transform
What is bound within two solitudes
Into a dialogue of engaging other solitudes
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Reading and Writing: Life on the Page


The Writing on the Wall of the Kardia

ggggggggggggggggggggg Most of us can read the writing on the wall; we just assume it's addressed to someone else.
ggggggggggggggggggggg -- Ivern Ball

I In the Beginning

I feel the call upon me and try to answer it as fully as I can. I take the risk to free what is inside me, to let it out into the open. Writing is also an escape from a world that crowds me. Through it, I build a room of my own and practise mindful meditation -- an investigation into my life. I do not know yet what will emerge; I do know that after a piece of my writing has burst on pages and unashamedly taken up its own life. It unsettles me. It seems larger than my life and rawer than I expected. For it is the act of coping, an attempt to end discords within me. It is to feed some hunger or work through an intensely dissonant experience, only then regaining some control.

I Take my pen ......

II During the Process

Writing is a surgical process, cutting my embodied story down to its barest essentials. Telling a story with the pen is like using a scalpel. There is a beating heart left there, bleeding on the page. All wounds will be stitched. Writing also functions as a container. I can keep pouring out all of my pain into that vessel. It doesn’t tell me to get better, to get over it, and to move on with my life. Rather it smiles at me, telling me, “Give me more and more of your pain.”

III Up to This Moment

Keep on Writing

I write, I write; I keep on writing
I take refuge in written words
The words I weep with and for
As long as I am writing
My pain is less piercing


IV Hopefully, in the End

(The following piece was accepted and published in the Spring 2008 Issue (online & print) of The Stellar Showcase Journal, a literary journal affiliated with the Canada Cuba Literary Alliance and The Canadian Federation of Poets)

To Write in Canada

To write is to transport
What is felt inside you
Into an art form outside you

To write is to translate
What is haunting your heart
For the agora of minds

To write in Canada is to transform
What is bound within two solitudes
Into a dialogue of engaging other solitudes
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[ericcoliu]

Trust the Writing

"Trust the writing,” you said
"Trust the writing? But, how?" I thought
"Trust the writing itself," you emphasized
As if itself clarified the matter, I trusted you
I started to write
In the middle of a life in transition
At the margins of a racialized identity
In between two linguistic realities
"Trust the writing,” I confirmed


Note:

This poem is dedicated to my friend, Mary Macdonell, who has persistently challenged and encouraged me to writing in English for past two years.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Trust the Writing

"Trust the writing,” you said
"Trust the writing? But, how?" I thought
"Trust the writing itself," you emphasized
As if itself clarified the matter, I trusted you
I started to write
In the middle of a life in transition
At the margins of a racialized identity
In between two linguistic realities
"Trust the writing,” I confirmed


Note:

This poem is dedicated to my friend, Mary Macdonell, who has persistently challenged and encouraged me to writing in English for past two years.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[dundas]

[[dundas]]

[ericcoliu]

[[ericcoliu]]

[christine]

[[christine]]

[clair]

[[clair]]

[clair]

[[clair]]

[ericcoliu]

[[ericcoliu]]

[ericcoliu]

Writing as an Social Act

Writing is an act of will and artistic expression, spending time on weaving the web of narratives. It is also a social act where the imagination of the reader meets that of the writer. Thus, in that sense, a piece of writing becomes like an agora, a marketplace of viewpoints brought by each of participants.

-- Champagne
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Writing as an Social Act

Writing is an act of will and artistic expression, spending time on weaving the web of narratives. It is also a social act where the imagination of the reader meets that of the writer. Thus, in that sense, a piece of writing becomes like an agora, a marketplace of viewpoints brought by each of participants.

-- Champagne
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[温暖的水獸]

[[温暖的水獸]]

[ericcoliu]

[[ericcoliu]]

[温暖的水獸]

[[温暖的水獸]]

[ericcoliu]

Holding my ECG in my hands,
I give it to all of you.
Take it. It's yours!

Reading Is Writing

While reading a poem
The unwritten is a hidden text
A text between the lines of verse
When that text is grasped
By the mind’s eye of the reader
A companion poem comes into being
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Holding my ECG in my hands,
I give it to all of you.
Take it. It's yours!

Reading Is Writing

While reading a poem
The unwritten is a hidden text
A text between the lines of verse
When that text is grasped
By the mind’s eye of the reader
A companion poem comes into being
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[ericcoliu]

[[ericcoliu]]

[温暖的水獸]

[[温暖的水獸]]