To call or not to call, it's a dilemma since the invention of telephone. For years, no contact; for ages, only ten miles apart. I want to call you, to hear you say you are OK, not sick, not forgetting me, not attached. Well, I am not too ambitious-- just not sick will be sufficient. … Continue reading To Call or Not to Call

Morning sunlight pale, shadow of floating cloud chill. A half full parking lot, many full carts of goods, whether you need or need not. One in T-shirt, with cool words printed on, deliberately non-provoking. One in winter boots, not for the feet, but for the beautiful legs. One in jacket, an expensive fading grey color. … Continue reading Poem: The Holiday Haul

The howling sound, the waving bare branches. Your age old greetings, timely every fall, dreaded every winter. Clouds are pushed here and there, fallen leaves swept away. What's not fixed or tied down flown off. Gone is the past season of fear that virus spread through the air. Holidays are here, relief is near, hopes … Continue reading Poem: A Windy Monday

It's an eccentric fruit, in color, shape, structure, pronunciation, and spelling--pomegranate. Suddenly it shows up in stores, some in piles, some in bins, some big--more than one pound each, some small as a tennis ball. The seeds are so red, almost hurting your eyes; eating them are so messy, hands sticky, face splashed red. "But … Continue reading Poem: In Season

Shermei, Shermei, You don't know how lucky you are. You've never lived in a flooded house, your only shelter, standing on a little stool to eat your meal. You've never lived through a famine,when a chicken in the black market would cost a month's salary. You've never encountered social turmoils, when bandits came to draft … Continue reading How Lucky You Are

It's overcast, but no rain, no wind, no leaves fly. The tail end of Hurricane Laura passing by, no stir, no bang, only a little sigh about not having sunshine and blue sky. It's the best time for shopping-- first stop restaurant W for takeout. It used to be so popular that patrons swarming, but … Continue reading Overcast

It's read and read again, by people here and there, far and near. Different wiring of our brain-- some cheer, some jeer, some unclear. I feel like a country lout visiting a city, not sure what's good, what's bad, what's gritty. My praise, too earthy; my details, too petty. The worst concerns criticism, for which … Continue reading Subjectivity

Something small but not trivial, big but not boasting, routine but not insignificant, down to earth but not vulgar. And what is it then? A vague idea one way or another. How to be disciplined as well as imaginative? Without the former, no work is done; without the later, no work is worthwhile. A call … Continue reading Block and Unblock

Distant thunder, darkened sky, humidity high. Wind starts, dusts fly, leaves shake and cry. Rain is expected, but not coming yet. Schedules affected, write it down in case I forget. I am not sure how the story goes, what he or she does, how he poses or how she clothes. Things good or bad or … Continue reading Another Stormy Day

That's impossible to achieve, I know, but I'd like him to try to reach that goal. When he has something useful to do, idleness and mischief he won't have time to pursue. Play psychological game with her son. She thinks it is smart and fun. How about something achievable, make a plan and do something … Continue reading Dream Come True

I dance with Fitness Marshall, to whose YouTube video I'm partial. Suddenly a bejeweled figure whirling, in a corner of the screen. Is that Pryanka turning and twirling, in a Bollywood movie I haven't seen? The music in old old black and white "Awaara", so distinct, so sad, but strangely you can dance to it. … Continue reading Dance Fitness

Even the north pole is 38 degrees Celsius. That's 95 Fahrenheit or higher? Why bother, nobody I know is living there. It's the online Asian news, telling you disasters here, there, everywhere. Polar bear is starving, permafrost on fire, igniting a forest with flame raging, from the melting ice, new islands emerging, an arctic competition … Continue reading Nowhere and Anywhere

of eighty miles is nothing, a two-hour drive barely. If our friendship is something, I should go monthly. There are people who travel weekly from New Jersey to Flushing, Queens only for dumplings, or a homely straw mat. I am not one of those since I am too lazy, a true tortoise, with no ambition … Continue reading The Distance

At the parking lot of a store, a man was unloading something from the back of a truck. He turned around and shouted at me, repeating something as if he's chanting. I couldn't make out what he was saying. A woman drove by and heard the shouting. "Oh, it's closed, right? Thank you." She said, … Continue reading Discovery

I don't know what minimalism is, but minimizing chores must be a bliss. Time used to be allocated to tackle dirt, mess, garbage accumulated. Then the discipline wanes day by day, cleaning plans suffer delay after delay. I say I am a tortoise or sloth, slow and unclean. Laziness is in my gene. I say … Continue reading Minimum Chores

A friend calls, asking me to translate for him to renew his license, and applying for this and that on internet. I like this friend because he admires me without a trace of envy or reserve. I help him write a letter to the government, he raves about my skills. I help him write his … Continue reading A Friend’s Admiration

The lights come and go, come and go, as if a ghost in the wire. From a slit of opening in the window, gust of air rush in, to frighten or to inspire. Dirt, leaves, water all mixed up in the wind--the smell of a storm. The sun comes out before the clouds take over … Continue reading During The Storm

The coming storm, tonight and tomorrow, Forty or sometimes seventy miles wind blow. It's calm now, just look out the window, but something ominous in the air, I know. Remember Sandy, more than seven years ago? What a wild gusty day, when sky's grey, nerves fray, and even the cat stops to play. The TV … Continue reading The Coming Storm

How old are those blinds--they were always there. The sun shines through and through when I sit in my chair. Whichever way I turn, sunlight on me all afternoon. I daze, I heat up, my mind feels like a balloon. Change the blinds, but they are half functioning. Go to office, but we work from … Continue reading Old Blinds

Gypsum dissolved, soy milk heated, Alas, the watery mixture is not what I wanted. Which step is missed or uncompleted? Failure is not mother of success-- give up right now, but nevertheless I have to swallow the mess. Throwing away this is wasteful. Of all things, most distasteful. Rules I grew up with, still earful.

Sunny, cloudy, few drops falling, then sunny with humidity again. Suddenly a big roar from above-- the store has a warehouse roof, unadorned and echoing. It must be the shower. Strain my eyes to look outside, too myopic to see the raindrops. The noise is fantastic, drowning his and my voice. "How much is it?" … Continue reading Aimless Sunday

So hot, no trip to stores, groans about daily chores. Prays for rains, even if it pours. No stove top cooking for days. Any fire is painful to gaze. Microwaved dishes amaze. The cool artificial air, modern men's welfare, as indispensable as dental care. But I dream of the old bamboo mat, patterned and flat, … Continue reading So Hot

A lot of cars on the road, and I was driving to the store, one idea rushing in, following another. It's annoying. Whenever I am out of the door, they tend to show up. Such inopportune moment, why bother? I drove home after visiting the store. Everything is forgotten. I try hard to recall. Where … Continue reading Forgotten Idea

I don't know the difference between the word altitude and elevation when Edison Township's relation to the sea level is concerned. Probably altitude is too big a word for Edison, which poses only 39 feet above, about the height of a three story building, not enough to defend itself against an angry sea, but probably … Continue reading Altitude vs. Elevation

The darkened sky, the roaring thunder. The rainstorm follows and raindrops fly. When can I come up with something, I wonder? My fingers are tired of waiting without typing, my eyes weary of staring without seeing a line. Blame my life, too sheltered too cozy without yearning. Blame the weather, too hot too humid for … Continue reading The Rainstorm

73F early morning-- sign of a hot Sunday. no rainstorm is forthcoming until the distant Wednesday. No plan to go out-- breathless under face cover, heatstroke when walk about. What has become of me? On a crowded ramshackle bus I used to travel 37C without air conditioning. Under the blazing subtropical sun I used to … Continue reading A Hot Sunday Morning

They were there before the opening, big shining truck or cute sedan lining the road. Each sitting in their car, waiting, staring, frowning. Suddenly the rusty door creaked open, sky blue water glowed. They were not wearing masks, not swimming, but standing about, talking, laughing on things interesting or boring. The way they hang out, … Continue reading Pool Party

Wake up at six, but dawn is gone, changing lights no more, and twittering birds done. The bright summer sun, clothed in morning gown, mocks me, "too late, no twilight for you; and 'gone', 'done', 'gown' don't rhyme; you have no ear for vowels."

Morning fog, misty tree tops, narrow path with a fallen tree log, --yesterday, there's a storm. More rains here in New Jersey almost every other day. Sometimes it's a whole day of little drops saturating the air. Why can't be more rain in the Steppe, where my Mongolian ancestors roam their horses? Why can't be … Continue reading In The Morning

Tables are cordoned away; movable chairs can't stay; long line meandering Zara-- a big "sale" sign tells all; short line outside a few stores; no line for most. I should be buying something-- a cheap bling; or a summer slip with string; I feel so guilty that I only come here for daily walk. Please … Continue reading Daily Walk

A long walk in the neighborhood, mask being a nuisance. Can't breathe under the plastic like fabric; can't even smile. When eyes are the only part revealed, they gain unnecessary alert and lost their shine. Empty streets, closed stories, wary masked figures. When will this endless torment end? Hope, doubt, uncertainty, part of routine anxiety. … Continue reading A Walk

The headache is gone; the chore is done. The sun is not shining; the wind is not whining; the rain is all but resigning. Face adorned with self made mask; go out for a shopping task. The air is misty; or is it crispy? Outside the store, the long line is winding; people standing there, … Continue reading Another Day

The street is empty, from one block to another, only a surly man walking his sad dog. Distancing is social or asocial? He keeps a good distance by walking almost half a circle, just to avoid me. The park is in accessible, all cordoned off, police car parking at the entrance. It looks empty and … Continue reading A Spring Day

I thought about something-- an idiosyncrasy, a trait observed through a common behavior, something universal yet with an Asian twist. How wonderful. I was cooking and I didn't write it down, trusting my memory, disregarding my usual forgetfulness. Despite numerous evidence to the contrary, I still believe in my ability, especially in the realm of … Continue reading Where Is It

A stranger on the other end of the radio waved cell phone signals, and she laughed at the things I said, I mean everything I said, all my failed attempts at being serious and funny. I was so flattered that I made more attempts. Isn't it strange that I can't entertain anybody I know, but … Continue reading A Phone Call

A night of happy dreams-- no nightmare, no phantasmagoria, no mad rush to find a bathroom, not chased by beasts, not falling from stairs-- disrupted and couldn't go back to sleep. You appeared in my dream, a little haggard a little tired, but eyes burning in good spirit. Never any conversations in dreams, why? Probably … Continue reading Dreams

Longer lines outside of the stores; More masked face with wary looks; No more toilet papers, rubbing alcohol, hand sanitizers; A friend talking over the phone-- but he's not interested in conversing. He's not into anybody or anything, not even himself. Enjoying sanctioned pleasures, he feels superior; not enjoying unsanctioned pleasures, he feels even more … Continue reading Apparition

Wherever I go, I wonder about the likelihood of you being there. The chance is slim, but the dream continues. Not the same locations, not the same time. Like the possibility of seeing another planet full of life, theoretically yes, but practically no. Remember when we were young, we criticized the plot of a movie … Continue reading Here and There

Suddenly life seems so fragile, ephemeral. It can end prematurely, accidentally, unexpectedly by a smallest RNA with a protein coat gaudy with red dots sticking out. I've never thought about death before, something too far away to be of significance. Now I think about it, I feel fine. I can accept death better than declining … Continue reading Unfinished Love

I imagine you are sick, lying in a hospital bed. I want to come to you, to help you, even if just to lift your spirit. Suddenly sickness and death seems not so far away in the era of coronavirus. Death will make nothingness out of our love. I am not a Buddhist; I can't … Continue reading You and Me

How do I remember you? "Let me count the ways" like Elizabeth Browning. Well, I am not an invalid and no poet. We are too ordinary to boast "the depth and breadth and height", too cool to call up the "old grief" or "childhood faith". I remember you with your polite smile and I guess … Continue reading How Do I Remember You

"Excuse me. Can she steer the wheel so that I can push the van?" A driver said to us, his van dead by the roadside. It's an empty street and no other passersby available. We could be his last resort. I was a little insulted. Do I look like a feeble woman unworthy to be … Continue reading A Chance Encounter

I wonder where you are, in Woodbridge, Red Bank, Edison? I hope you are healthy, in the era of spreading virus and frayed nerves. I hope you never grow old, and in my mind you never will. Woodbridge is in the news, with mounting infection. You don’t live there anymore, I pray. Wherever you are, … Continue reading I Wonder

The building was still there, dark exterior of glass panels, reflecting the blue sky with floating clouds, its weathered uneven face spoiling the effect intended. Still, its silent sturdiness, its presence is a statement--I'm here to stay. It's where we met, where unspoken messages sent, through burning eyes; where sentiments alluded through unsentimental marketing strategies. … Continue reading Love Revisited

I wonder what you are doing. I hope you won't go to a bar, a meeting, a gathering? I hope you don't get the bug. I know you are susceptible-- last time I saw you, you were having a cold. I felt wretched hearing you sniffling, knowing I couldn't help but wished I could. With … Continue reading Love In the Era of Coronavirus

Melancholy remembrance of a good time, too short, too transient, too weak to stand the cruelty of the passing time; of a bad time, too bad, too persisting, too lasting that even time cannot wipe away. Why did you talk as if you were answering questions? Why the strained look on your face as if … Continue reading Remembrance

Whenever I start to write something, you emerge as if mocking me that I can't write without you, as if begging me to write something for you first, as if reminding me of the awkward dinner party, for which we sat face to face, for which I racked my mind to find something to say, … Continue reading Intrusion

I review your websitewith changes once in a while;I follow your LinkedIn account,short of clicking on “connect”.I watched the YouTube videos ofthe Chamber of Commerce luncheon,and the early spring township parade.I download the PDF file with you in it,standing right next to somebody, smiling,or wearing a straw hat in the local primary schoolwith kids all … Continue reading It’s You Again

Long ago, a morning or an afternoon,exact time forgotten,I was walking towards the auditorium,with several others,along the narrow hallway, that lined withoffices on one side, and administrative cubicles on the other.I don’t know why I turned around, but I did.There you were, at the end of the hallway,your arm resting on the raised desk of … Continue reading A Sloth Girl’s Love

Lights dim, voices simmering,shadows of people standing up or sitting down.Somebody was staring at methrough blurred space.For real or just imagination?Does it matter?It must be you.Even if it’s not you, I would think it’s you.My heart thinks soand won’t allow otherwise.