A Hong Kong Memories Project

Date and time of rediscovery: June 16, 2011 - 1:29 am

“Boxes of Memories”

 Boxes after boxes

made of wax, paper, metal foil, paint, plastic and glue

used as convenient device to hold drinkable liquid

travel into my life due to my want;

out of my life by a crush of my hand 

and a twist of my wist toward some containers of rubbish

These boxes had traveled with me to so many corners of my childhood, 

containing from honey dew favored soy mike to lemon tea

These boxes had been the perfect endings to many of events of my life

from soccer games to field trip

The first connection to my memories the boxes made

was a location

it was the home of my mentor 

where box drinks are unlimitedly served to me

where it made its presence to almost every situation

every miracle

The second memory that came to me 

found itself related to a field trips that I went at seven years old

as box drinks is inevitable a part of every Hong Kong field trips 

but this memory contains no box drinks 

but a pair of wounded knees and a 15 minutes of tears

we were waiting for the bus to take us away from the boring school 

I was running

then falling

then hurting and crying

and that is that 

and there is plenty more

hidden in my memories 

Date and time of rediscovery: June 16, 2011 - 1:29 am

“Combination of dehumidifier and TV”

Side by side they stand

boxes like devices with long tails

headed to the wall, thirst for intake

One lights up while the other hums

Strange as it seem, 

that such gathering of two object in the same view brings memories

they remind me of my love of watching TV as a kid

Sitting in front a lighted up box with moving picture

with volume turned up to override the humming of the moist sucker

They exist together every year, from spring to fall

in the living room

But as weather turn dry and chap-stick is selling fast

their months long meetings are over for the year

one leave the realm of services while the other continue to light up the room

I remember those day, 

hot summer days

day and day out

sitting in front of the light box with matted black body

from little kids’ cartoon in the morning 

to news and talk show in the afternoon 

to dramas show in the mid afternoon

to cartoons show in the late afternoon

to news in the early evening 

to family dramas in the late evening

and occaisionally, 

with luck

I will run into a WWF performance on the English channel

where body being thrown and shown

it was probably the most blood pumping event of my childhood. 

Those long hours of being in front of the light box

 considered to many as waste of time

but I must admit

plenty lessons were surely learned 

Date and time of rediscovery: June 16, 2011 - 12:30 am

“Flattened Escalator”

Flattened escalator

move masses vertical not but horizontal 

Like Mr. Ford’s assembly line

an efficient moving device 

moving masses with strict orders and clear directions

Within a child, there is no recongition

for socially constructed orders

only the imagination of their youth 

their rebellion ideal

and the close eyes of parents or care takers of some sorts

With youthfulness and the false notion of invincible 

My childhood friend and I 

would break the orders of things 

become rebels and ineffective in Mr. Ford’s eyes

we would travel backward 

we would disobey the assembly line

we would mislead others of our kind

we would risk the potential of man-made harmony  

all for we did not know better

Date and time of rediscovery: June 15, 2011 - 9:30 pm 

“Iron boxes, Moving on Iron Rails”

Like snakes, through and through

underneath the crust of this earth

Iron boxes, linked together by joints and bolts 

pulled through man-made tunnels by the lead iron box

With ground breaking noise

with illumination and strict social code within

The masses travel within the iron boxes

from one place to another,

until their destinations drown

with the breaking noise of the iron snake

Within its stomach, I travel

far and far, and with independency, 

I travel far

To every destination of my childhood

from the secondary school to my mentor’s home

from the temple to my favorite football pitches 

flashing lights on the traveling map

machines like voice sounded out by the microphone overhead

begging for our attention to our safety and current destination

Fast moving moving pictures in the windows

always moving the same direction with the same emotion output

fleeting and emptying

Books after books

read in silences, passed from one to another

by the strict social code

occasionally, heroic events

rule by our social consciousness 

giving up our seats for the elderly population

Life within the Iron boxes is cold

crowded with population but the silence separated all of us

some seated

some stand

some leaving

some returning

we are all going somewhere

As child, 

silence never brother me in the iron box 

the cold, reflective and metallic appearance

did not intimidates me 

the handles became my money bar and gymnastic rings

the moving joint that link one to another iron box

became my playground with other young social deviants

no worry

no boundaries 

didn’t we all grew up too fast

Date and time of rediscovery: June 15, 2011 - 1:48am 

“Weekly Trip to the Money Place”

Saturday is the day

last day of the week

I will go to the money place

Once a week I will head out,

on foot

down the hallway

descends by the elevator

filp flop sound the hot pavement

 through the beautiful, clear glass door

 cold air surround my body

 as my body shiver as to remind me the heat outside

 
I will found myself in a line, 

   of impatience neighbors 

 silver and gold trims line the interior

 behind windows there they sit, 

  the men and women in suits our money keeper

there they keep my money

given by the government for my living,

for my existence

I will approach them with nervousness 

and my little book of money recording

I will ask politely 

for the papers of gold 

enough for the week of spending

Light steps

let the hot air surround

flip flop sound the hot pavement again

with a fuller pocket


  

Date and time of rediscovery: June 15, 2011 - 12:15am 

“The big staples”

Along the road

Along the speeding car

Along the arteries of the city

here they stand in line

curving with the streaming car light

dozens by dozens 

perfectly spaced out

with playful heart and youth competitiveness 

my friends of childhood and I would race through

making our ways in and through the giant staples

making zigzag with speedy bodies 

thrilling 

freeing