in my mind
you shouldn't get married
loud and louder ...
we're like two vacuum cleaners
sucking at each other
—Chen-ou Liu
in my mind
you shouldn't get married
loud and louder ...
we're like two vacuum cleaners
sucking at each other
—Chen-ou Liu
frog pond
the slow drifting
of
my haiku-boat
Chen-ou Liu
she's gone ...
alone, I sleep
with
the dark
Chen-ou Liu
the door
of a foreclosed house
blown open
by a winter gust ...
inside
and out this emptiness
Chen-ou Liu
hometown memories
I still hold on to
snowflakes
in the wind
Chen-ou Liu
happy or not
just to be as I am ...
patches
of fog
Chen-ou Liu
in my tank
rainbow koi swimming
in circles ...
the same question years ago,
to
stay or to go
Chen-ou Liu
forest bathing
I follow the footsteps
of
my inner child
Chen-ou Liu
fiftieth birthday
halfway to the summit
in
silence
Chen-ou Liu
gnarled roots
the family stories
left
untold
Chen-ou Liu
the door slammed shut ...
my world without her shrinks
to
a tv screen
Chen-ou Liu
the door
open to blue skies
in the stillness
a caged eagle and I
become
one
Chen-ou Liu
Mother once sighed,
you've spoken English for too long
you might forget me ...
exiled for years, I can't recall
which
language I dream in
Chen-ou Liu
all that
remains
down
to
the dark
alone
Chen-ou Liu
where were you born?
a neighbor's knife-sharp question ...
near the fence
I see green leaves and buds
on
a maple tree stump
Chen-ou Liu
my body lies
next to my wife's for years
and yet
in a corner of my mind
this
woman in red
Chen-ou Liu
midnight snowfall
the nonstop blaring
of
a car alarm
Chen-ou Liu
gathering shadows
ten more people ticketed
for
sleeping rough
Chen-ou Liu
winter parting
I listen to the silence
she
left behind
Chen-ou Liu
shower time
soap bubble after soap bubble
after
my son's laughter
Chen-ou Liu
the depth
of this absence of home,
of belonging ...
my face in the rearview mirror
this
eviction day
Chen-ou Liu
first AA meeting
a whiff of whiskey
or
all in my mind?
Chen-ou Liu
*
after the farewell
she doesn't wave back --
moonlight
even colder on my face
than
October's snowflakes
Chen-ou Liu
CN Tower
hidden in fog and rain ...
what remains
of my immigrant past
now
a blur to me
Chen-ou Liu
morning mist
layered on the river ...
this
floating life
Chen-ou Liu
*
the departure door
closed between mother and me ...
fifteen years later
surging waves, one continent
and
English separate us
Chen-ou Liu
waiting alone
in this cheap motel room
all night long
the vacancy sign
blinks
on, blinks off ...
Chen-ou Liu
Update (Feb 23, 2025) New email for submissions: journalcoldmoon(at)gmail(dot)com Founding editor: Roberta Beach Jacobson Current editors: ...