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Tag Archives: Shelly Bryant
A Sensitive Ear
Original and translation by Shelly Bryant They say he is autistic. When his parents first told me that this was what the specialists had determined, I was skeptical. I knew what autism was, and had even been around autistic children … Continue reading
mono no aware
ice cream cones and a baby’s laughter yellow-edged photos and ink faded on the page snowflakes on the window and steam from a coffee mug the scent of your cologne as the alarm screams of dawn Shelly Bryant divides her … Continue reading
Anticipating the Morning After
10 November 2016, Hong Kong anticipating the morning after the State of the Union Address to be made by the President-Elect on this morning after the election, I listen to the parent at the next table define protectionism to his … Continue reading
On Death and Translation
In his “Meditation XVII,” John Donne uses translation as a metaphor for death – perhaps a sentiment that hits a bit too close to the mark for many working translators. Donne writes, “All mankind is of one author, and is … Continue reading
Strong Fences
each brick laid a fish at Spring Festival tonic soup after surgery duty-free smokes from overseas champagne at news of a promotion scarlet eggs after the first month a hong bao handed at a wedding a small loan when times … Continue reading
black and white image…
black and white image plum blossom and afternoon sky the next morning an explosive blush of blossoms recalling my father’s tale of his first color TV Shelly Bryant divides her year between Shanghai and Singapore, working as a teacher, writer, … Continue reading
The Way
crumbling bricks and telephone wires verdant shrubs and trees their balancing act performed by the cobbled brookside path crooked and narrow, their angles a mirror of backs bent under the day’s burden Shelly Bryant divides her year between Shanghai and … Continue reading
Song of Dunhuang
translated from the Ming Dynasty poem by Yang Sheng the sound of horns pierces through plum blossoms the clouds in the distant west catch the rosy twilight white geese guard the pass on the purple autumn breeze the sun’s light … Continue reading
9 August 2013
burnt red on white after a National Day hike on our multiethnic multiracial isle it is my piebald flesh that marks me as other though draped in the same dual tones of the flag splayed between two Chinooks watching over … Continue reading
Secret
whetted stropped ground honed refined elegant chic exclusive private murk mist vapor fume chafe excoriate flay skin hide Secret encoded veiled covered embraced cuddled nestled settled resolved determined keep rear back end extremity limb branch division separation Shelly Bryant divides … Continue reading
Alien
abandoned rejected unwanted foreign selection choice alternative other Alien unknown mysterious magical enchanted outsider newcomer parvenu upstart Shelly Bryant divides her year between Shanghai and Singapore, working as a teacher, writer, researcher, and translator. She is the author of four … Continue reading
I’m All Ears
“I’m all ears” said he and listened to them laugh “Never seen a rainbow then?” “Or smelled an aromatic blend?” He was all ears when talk turned to the smoothness of lovers’ skin then from there to its saltiness He … Continue reading
Frenzy
a response to Yin Ge’s acrylic on plastic sheet J-001 and J-002 a call from across the pond he’s with her, again whispering in her ear tales of your failings a flight across the sea but first a phone call … Continue reading
When I Was
for Kelton when I was a bridge I reached across the space between us spanning the distance with ease when I was a tunnel I burrowed through you finding in the depths cool secluded places of rest when I was … Continue reading
Hephaestus
and she came from the sea where else? not from the heavens on a bolt flung by my father nor from the underground for that is terrain I know well not from the forest in which my kindling is grown … Continue reading
Mixed Signals
a response to Yin Ge’s acrylic on canvas Q-016 the clamshell sits on his hearth the very one in which he harbored his first flame its lips part hinting at an invitation or, perhaps telling of a great escape Shelly … Continue reading
hope’s stain…
hope’s stain in the hollow of her vessel dregs of the slumgullion gift from the gods Shelly Bryant divides her year between Shanghai and Singapore, working as a teacher, writer, researcher, and translator. She is the author of three volumes … Continue reading
Transfer of Power
a response to Juel’s oil on canvas Energy Transfer of Love, 2010 that naked form, kneeling before the fearsome creature’s face she might be taken as a supplicant pleading for mercy were it not for her outspread wings covering half … Continue reading
Xieng Khouang, Laos
mortuary vessels scattered across the Plain of Jars the distillation of a life, its ritual decomposition each soul upgraded, each clay pot for another exchanged Shelly Bryant divides her year between Shanghai and Singapore, working as a teacher, writer, researcher, … Continue reading
When You Talk to Me
I watch the words coming out from your mouth interested less in content than in you your handling of it and its of you I listen to expressions animating your features hearing what you don’t voice echoes from sublingual spaces … Continue reading
That There May be no Misunderstandings
my wife wants me to tell you the notion that she bosses me and I do what she says is a myth that’s not how our relationship works she says not at all we are equals partners interdependent peers comrades … Continue reading
Network Era
a response to Wang Liang’s pair of oils on canvas Network Era – Mask No. 1 and Network Era – Mask No. 2 pages 55 and 56 two faces, one black lying across from its white doppleganger — mask and … Continue reading
Not so Much When, but How
Unwilling to lose the morbid thread I’d read in those lines, I just had to jot down a note. It had something to do with wondering how—not so much when, but how—I would eventually die. I leaned from the bed, … Continue reading
Currency
a response to Wang Qian’s oil on canvas Twenty Yuan “Look there. It’s the scene from the back of the twenty yuan note.” He actually said that as he rowed us downstream. I played my part perfectly, holding up two bills … Continue reading
In the Surging Waves Pavilion, Suzhou
We were in the garden that day when the spider caught our attention, dangling from its thread against the backdrop of a whitewashed wall topped with grey roof tiles. I spent too much time trying to get a good photo … Continue reading