Puppy Love

1-IMG_3441The cream of the crop
Traveled to the 1979 Congress of Strings
At the University of Washington,
Including the musical genius from Calgary.

We all had scholarships,
For an intensive musical experience
Performing every two weeks at Meany Hall.

All college students except for me,
Heading into my last year of high school.

The camp had an extra spot,
So they asked my violin teacher,
A professor emeritus,
If he could fill it.
He selected me.

For the first concert,
I was assigned to sit
Next to the girl from Oberlin,
Destined to be a concert master.

She was the section leader
Of the second violins,
We shared a stand,
Making rapturous notes together.

Tall and lean,
Her dark wavy hair framed her aquiline nose
And sultry brown eyes,
Her long dexterous fingers moved effortlessly
As she played with fierce intensity.

Drawing me in like a Gypsy Air,
Under her mysterious spell,
I gathered all of my shy
Awkward courage
To ask her out on a date.

As we walked across the warm summer campus,
She told me she had never dated a jock,
But I persisted.

In the evening
We went out to University Ave
I forgot my wallet,
So she paid.

My heart sinking
As we neared the elevator at Haggett Hall,
Reluctantly I said good night.

She stepped toward me and leaned in for my very first kiss,
All was going exceptionally well,
Until she thrust her long alien tongue,
Into my mouth.

Tumbling back on all fours,
Bewildered,
I watched her smiling
As the elevator doors
Closed.

© 2013 M. Tsai

The Battle Continues

Over a year after my liver resection, my cancer has returned in my spleen.  My surgeon will remove my spleen this coming Friday.  It will be another big abdominal incision.  The past year has been filled with many firsts.  First time I could not do a single sit up. First time I tried with all my heart to show my wife and daughter how much I loved them.  First time I read a poem out loud at an open mike instead of playing the fiddle.  First time I tried to reflect on my life and actions.  First time to blog. 

The trained engineer in me wants to analyze and build structure.  Words do not stream from my consciousness to paper.  I know I have more to share.  But for now my posts may become quite rare.  Rest assured that I will be doing a lot of reading during the weeks ahead on WordPress.  A place where I can meet amazing people, learn through our common struggles and joys, and also learn how to open up and express myself.

 

Living the Dream

Wisps of steam rise above the Red Square bricks,
As they soak in the sun rays,
after a sudden downpour.

Thousands of footsteps merge and converge,
Creating random paths,
Overlapping and intertwining with each other,
At different times during the course of the day.

College students blur before me like the sifting gray clouds above,
I spot her golden hair and yellow rain coat across the square,
I make my way to cross her path at the steps.

Time stops as we each reveal our pleasure,
Her green eyes smiling deep into my soul.
Though she is pursued by a marching band of players,
I hop, skip and jump right into the fray
to gain her affections.

Emotions long forgotten like waves on a Mexican beach,
Resurface as I inspect old photos with happy poses,
And smiles that have lost their way,
A proud father and a young husband,
When did I grow so old?

Now in the midst of life, a dream momentarily shattered,
We struggle with a dark hour,
But the darkness reveals many miracles.
Time feels compressed, it has no dimension.

As my chrysalis of death begins to harden,
Her penetrating love blazes within my cocoon.
I am not alone as I transform,
Not yet ready to emerge into another world.

I will fly into death with the lightness and passion,
Of a an unseen butterfly,
I will flutter about and through her,
Filling the infinite dimensions with my love,
My energy will warm her.

Our dreams will intersect,
In another place,
Where we will awake together,
To discover ourselves again.

© 2013 M. Tsai

Soos Creek

While driving to a very popular but “secret” fishing hole,
I explained the regulations per my fatherly role,

To my sweet six year old daughter I said you must be under fourteen,
And absolutely no attempts at snagging are allowed at the scene,

Most certainly wrong, you’ll see lots of men “fishing”,
While their kids run about and may even have gone missing. Continue reading

Eden

Anvil black Armani suit
buffeted like riptide flotsam,
zig zags above Italian ox-blood shoes,
cold pressed between anonymous travelers,
in this caffeinated Frankfurt airport .

Sweet baby doll with pink frills,
crazy cuckoo clock,
wrapped and bagged,
on the upper deck,
jumbo jetting across the restless ocean,
to present my gifts,
in Seattle. Continue reading