Love in a whole new way

Love is something that you don't find alot. Love is a beautiful feeling. Love is a new you. Love is like the stars in the clear dark sky, so perfect. When you find love don't let go, Love may be scary but don't let go. Love, Love, Love

LIFE

Staying in the prison
Looking at the wall
Crying in my heart
There is nothing in my life
I wait to pass away

Don't want it

The birds are flying away
Looking at them
They have wings to fly away
But there is none on my body
Sad and tired,
I am alone in my world

THE BOSSY WOMAN WHO LOVES LAMPS

So what do you want me to buy

The man asks the woman
Tearing a piece of paper from his notebook

Spring onions, garlic, red chili, and some
Interesting vegetables
The woman says
Interesting vegetables?
The man asks, what is that?
Well, don’t buy cabbages
That’s boring
Buy some carrots, the woman says
And some
Leeks
What? Bleaks? The man looks at her, puzzled
No, leeks, she repeats

Oh stop writing notes, just buy some beef
Or some lamps
The woman shouts

Xiaolu October 2005 London

SATURDAY MORNING I DECIDE TO FLY BACK TO CHINA TO MAKE SOME ART

By Xiaolu Guo

It was ten thirty
We decided not to argue anymore
So we left the bedroom
A place difficult for Zen
We rode bikes to see Gregory Crewdson
An American Photographer
In the White Cube

I see a mother with an obscure face
Blood on her daughter’s bed
You see a naked woman
In a well lit middle class living room
Her crotch bleeding
We see mirrors everywhere
Dislocation, disorder, disturbing, disguise
Beneath the roses
I picture Freud, Jung and Alfred Hitchcock
Lurking

We left to see another exhibition
Trees In Snow
By Abbas Kiarostami
It was just a few streets away
In Rivington Road
Twelve o’clock on Saturday
I was hungry
We never ate proper breakfast
When our love had problems
And Abbas was a very simple man
Trees in snow was in black and white
Pure and clean
Like a vegetarian meal

We rode back to Brick Lane
Shalimar - you can try the rest but we are the best
That was your favourite place
Steamed spinach for two pounds seventy five
You said western culture is dead
I said eastern culture is old
And that’s why I left Asia

Western artists are ill I said
Because there is too much psychology here
You frowned
OK, that's too much art in the morning
Let's have another Fish Masala

14th May, 2005, London

SUNDAY PRAYER OF AN INDIVIDUALIST

We had Chinese style fried shrimp that is the highlight of the day you know I am so worried we are going to run out of ideas how to spend a Sunday every weekend we fail this morning we already went to the market and we already went shopping and I already bought useless things toilet paper and sanitary towels and black pepper and we already got bored and we lie on the bed half dead half nervous you know I am bored of this life it's been so long we still love each other and actually we've only been together for two months people say three months is the real test that's how long the stupid passion lasts we reached the second month we still have another one to go I hope we still love each other oh I don’t know what love is so let’s cook something again cook something for dinner although we just had lunch people don’t do dinner right after lunch on Sundays especially after the fried shrimps at eleven thirty but I need to do something in the kitchen rather than lie on the bed so I cook some chicken and I put more ginger and garlic I think spices are good for England and good for our mood meanwhile I pray for the night to come soon and for tomorrow to come soon and as long as we can manage to survive until monday everything will be fine and on monday morning we will have no time to think about the purity of love and the blindness of love and the sorrow of love and the boredom of love and the fear of love we will survive and god save us god save the cowards god save the ones who are in doubt

Xiaolu Guo - London - June 13 2005

THE MAN WHO LOVES GROWING BEANS

She left the house for about three weeks

And one afternoon
She comes back
To fetch her shoes
He is in his garden
Hands muddy
He just bought two young beans
He looks much older, or
Maybe it is just a gloomy day

“Where did you buy the beans?” she asks
Just like she used to ask him things
like that
He hears, but gets the question wrong
“Why did I buy the beans?
... to keep the hope.” he answers
“no, where did you buy them?” she repeats
“oh, in the Sunday market.” He answers

She walks around with her old shoes
The garden is still dead from the winter
“you planted some beans several weeks ago, I remember” she says
“yes, but the slugs ate them.”
He pours some new soil in a pot
His blue jeans get dirty
“you know I grow my beans from the seeds, but
slugs take them.” he says

The wind is chilly in
An April garden
She notices, some white hair
Hidden behind his ears
she remembers
he used to talk about beans all night
broad beans, string beans, asparagus beans, kidney beans
he used to love her so much

XIAOLU GUO 7 June 2005 London

BEAUTIFUL STRANGERS

“Do you want to come to the party, darling?”

you give me your hand

I find my heart shaped necklace
I wear my red flowed skirt
I walk towards the bonfire

Standing beside you
I drink a half glass of wine
You are so charming
You are so chatty
Everybody loves you
You are everyone’s sweetheart
Let me be one of your listeners
Let me be member of your audience
I am shivering
I have another half glass of wine

How are you nice to see you where are you from it’s a nice party isn’t
I like your dress thank you I like your earrings too thank you are welcome

I feel bored
I start to dance
Dance on my own
I hear strange music
I never understand the lyrics
A man comes and dances with me
Then another man, then a third man
Then a fourth
In the end they are 8 handsome men
If I still remember how to count

Sugar melts by the fire
Cheese melts in the bread
Your lips melt on some cheeks
I am dancing with beautiful strangers
Without looking at their lonely eyes

XIAOLU GUO August 12, 2003

NOBODY KNOWS WHETHER THE MIDDLE CLASS

By Xiaolu Guo

The woman washes her pants
in the kitchen sink
two pairs, both delicate
they are made of silk
she keeps a careful eye
on the vegetable soup
boiling on the fire

No one knows whether or not
the middle class likes sex
The man he asks the woman
whether she likes sex
Sometimes she says
He asks why only sometimes
When I get bored or lonely
She answers
that's the time
I find myself wanting
to have sex
Oh, I like sex all the time
He says I could have it
every day

The pants are clean and the soup is ready
They sit and eat
The woman puts the spoon down and looks at the man
So if you don’t have sex from me you will find
another woman?
Well, not find another woman but maybe find sex
The man answers

They walk to the bedroom straight after dinner
Night is long
It has to be planned
And then to be consumed
They start to make love
Nobody really knows whether the middle class
likes sex or not

14 May, 2005 London

MORNING GLORIES

When I came to see you

Blue blossoms were
Climbing on our neighbour’s house
“It’s called Morning Glories”
You said to me
“It opens in the morning then closes at night”

Now
You walk with me to the train station
We pass our neighbour’s house again
We look at those flowers
“They do survive” you say
“If you plant a branch, it will grow just like this bush”
I listen
I don't know what to say

I get on the train
I look at wild weeds by the track
Sometimes I think
If you and me kept talking about plants
Our love could be saved

XIAOLU GUO May 2005