Naked

Naked

Standing in front of you

I find my skin delighted in

Every inch of me you take in

Taken in

Tasted

Touched

Smelled

Seen

Thought about

And thought about again

And thought about again

And thought about again

With all the blotches and scars and speckles and hairs

How unruly and asymmetrical my body must seem

But you take it all in like the cool forest air

Like the dew on the morning leaf you waited for me all night

As if I was the scent of the forest shade on a warm day

And my touch was like the warm ray of the sun on your goose bumps

You take me into your desire and I am undone

As if that deep deep deep desire that had been stored away

It had finally been unlocked to dance and jump and romp and run

Released to play

You dance and jump and romp and run with me through the trails

When will we stop?

When will your feet grow weary?

When will you tire of me?

But you smile and gaze deeply with assurance

And I am confident with my heart leaping before me

Dancing and jumping and romping and running

Both of us with the wind on our skin and the earth and air grazing our feet

Unencumbered

I want to cry because I am naked but I am not judged

I want to laugh because I am naked and I can fly

I want to dance because I am naked and I am loved

Unashamed and fully accepted

My broken body, flaws, wounds, sorrows, nightmares

My healed body, beauty, character, ambitions, dreams

And even the pieces that were scary and secretly locked away and shrouded

They were taken in and cared for

The parts that I feared even to expose to myself were seen

And you loved

You loved it all

Even my passionate, voracious, longing desire

The urge to explode in overwhelming glory

Even the urge to linger on the blade of danger’s edge

And the desire to curl up as if I were a baby once again

Overwhelming

You loved it all

Even when you feared and turned away

You returned and loved me

So I…

Thrive

Live

Love

Naked

Last night, I stayed up till 2am reading about 140 pages of commentary on the book Song of Songs for my Theology of Eroticism class. I was captivated by the erotic and sensual nature of the book. Of course reading, "To a mare among Pharaoh's chariots I liken you my, darling." (Song of Songs 1:9-10) doesn't exactly sound romantic to our modern sensibilities. However, Longman III (2001) says:

Pope, however, puts forward an attractive hypothesis for the meaning of this verse. He first reminds us that chariot horses were usually stallions, not mares. He then describes an attested defensive strategy against chariot attack. As the stallions rush toward their intended target, a mare in heat is let lose among them, driving them to distraction so that they cannot proceed with attack...To paraphrase the thought of the man, he is saying that she drives all the men crazy with her attractiveness, with the implication that she drives him to distraction as well. (p. 103)

Can you imagine a woman so beautiful and sensual that your strongest urges are brought forward and you cannot even operate heavy machinery safely?!? For the ladies, can you imagine a guy who would do the same for you?!? And we must not forget that the stallions are distracted by raw sexual energy. Kind of approximates the feeling of attraction one has when the raging hormones are at full blast around puberty, right? Heheh.

And the entire book is poetry between lovers who are so captivated, drawn towards, and attracted to each other that they utterly cannot resist each other and must find ways of reaching each other to make love. They go back and forth praising each other's qualities, pining for each other, and yes...have glorious sex (and not so glorious sex is included - in book 5 they are in the beginning of making love and the man leaves the woman, then she goes out to find him and gets abused, but then they eventually reunite in book 6 and re-consummate. It is also interpreted that the woman is actually having a dream/nightmare about his abandonment. So I should say that even sex that doesn't go as planned is included).

I mean, I had heard before that the Song of Songs was like the Judeo-Christian Kama Sutra, but I wasn't prepared for the beauty and longing that the woman and man had for each other. There was vivid sexual imagery, but there was also vivid desire and poetic longing sung back and forth from lover to lover. We are not just looking at physical attraction, we are talking about a consummation of deep romantic desire that is connected to being fully wanted by another that is fully wanted.

In class today we talked about how Song of Songs is also to be read in context to Genesis 1 and 3. In Genesis, God creates man and woman and they have perfect union. They are naked - physically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually - and unashamed. When the fall occurs, they become ashamed and that level of intimacy was lost. In Song of Songs we see how that intimacy is still possible. In the reading of it, we capture some of the desire that God intends for lovers to experience - highly erotic, sensual, unencumbered, longing and fulfillment that is physical, emotional, and spiritual. Fully being wanted by the one that is wanted in a way that is deep and fulfilling - deep, glorious, mutual, passionate love.

Near the end of class, we also talked about how wherever there is desire there is danger. We have all experienced how being in relationships has caused wounds and tragedies - whether it is being the child of parents who "love" each other or don't "love" each other, or in being in "love" ourselves and having our hearts broken, or even in having people ruin "love" for us in abuse. To dream and hope for our desires to be fulfilled is fraught with hope and danger. As the biblical story's trajectory moves in the direction of redemption, restoration, and reconciliation, I am moved to imagine what it might feel like to experience intimacy (physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual) in a way that redeems, restores, and reconciles in ways that I can only dream of. Dare I hope dangerously and passionately?

Longman III, T. (2001) Song of Songs, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans.

Sound Of Your Heart

Try as I might I cannot forget

The symphony that stirred when you played your song

Vibrations tickled my eardrums and traveled to the depths of my chest

Resonating within my heart I am beset

By the wild, deep, thoughtful spirit residing in the tunes

Floating out into the air and permeating the room like a beautiful fragrance

You poured rose pedals over ears

And saturated the atmosphere with your essence

And it laid on me like a silk blanket

My ears smelled the incense and sent a message to the depths of my soul

I felt as If I was the only one who heard the comet blazing quietly through the midnight sky

A kindred fire that burned throughout the night

Your music stirring my emotions like stardust rising

Glowing magnificently and curiously captivating

Like a moth to the flames did my heart flutter around the light of your melody

My wings were singed and for a moment I felt like a phoenix rising

Deeper and deeper and higher and higher

More into my the depths of my being only to swell in inspiration

How does your mouth open and fingers float above a sea of chords

To speak a language of the heart I had never before heard but understood?

And how can I not respond or stand still and withhold my wonder?

I cannot forget the sound of your star as it marked the canvas night of heaven

Or what it felt like to have wings ablaze that would fly through and pierce the depths of darkness

Captivated am I by your symphony that stirs remnants of beauty

Your music is your soul and you must play on

And try as I might I cannot forget

The sound of your heart

I Don't Blame Them

In the summer of 2009, as part of my training as a counselor, I took Dr. Caprice D. Hollins' CSL 509 Multicultural Issues: Social and Cultural Foundations class. One of the assignments we had was to write a poem that talked about where we came from. So I poured out my heart as I wrote about my Chinese American struggle and came up with the following poem. Then I felt compelled to share it in class. Since then, I've been asked to share this poem a few times. And since then, sharing it has been a very frightening but affirming thing to do. Frightening because it is a wound that I am exposing, and frightening because I don't know how the audience will respond. Affirming because I love my story as a Chinese American, and affirming because I get to share my story. So, after being asked once again...here it is

I Don't Blame Them

我的名字是陳天略. My name is Chén Tiān Lüè.

The Chén family name can be traced back to one of the last Six Southern dynasties in China that ruled from 557 to 589.

But I didn’t learn that until recently.

Tiān means the day or sky or heaven and Lüè means plan, scheme, outline, or strategy,

But here it’s just another name people don’t know how to spell or pronounce correctly.

My parents picked the English name Solomon for me.

And it is oh so tough growing up and going to school with two strange names, let alone one.

So I wonder why they make fun of my names.

I wonder why I couldn’t be named something more American.

I don’t blame them; they don’t know any better…

Born in Hong Kong in 1979, before I was two, my family moved to State of California in the U.S. of A.

They sought the American dream and I had no choice but to be subjected to their odyssey.

Dreams of setting up shop and starting a company where my father’s line of Lesa watches (named after my mom) would pave the way for success.

My dad was a doctor who fled China during the revolution and swam to Macau.

A smart, stubborn, creative, and resilient man.

My mom was a talented artist and graduated with a degree in fashion design.

A woman girded with beauty and strength the world would never know.

Their blood and sweat, late nights up, money, late nights up fighting, yelling, screaming, my life, my brother’s life,

And where did we end up in 1991?

Broke and in the brick pillar of “eacon View Apartments” in Seattle, Washington.

It was supposed to be the “Beacon View Apartments,” but the “B” fell off the building and management couldn’t afford to replace it.

The stairwell we walked through every day smelled of urine and never lacked fresh graffiti.

During dark, rainy, windy nights the building would sway

And I felt it could all come crumbling down any moment.

Was this the American dream my parents had pursued?

I don’t blame them; they don’t know any better…

I speak to my brother in English, I talk to my dad in Mandarin, when I see my (ex) in-laws I speak in Cantonese.

This trifecta of language has been honed over the course of my life and has served me…

Served me well?

I remember in elementary school being put into ESL class and the shame I felt being pointed out as an “other.”

When I brought home my report cards, showing to my parent’s that I’ve failed to understand my teachers, this language, and what they have to offer, I’ve felt shame.

Day and night, night and day I wondered how I can be more like my English speaking peers.

Working so hard to fit in the U.S. of A. to pick up the language, the humor, the culture,
I sacrificed the little Chinese language I had to make room for the English I lacked.

So my English grew and my Chinese dwindled.

Relatives, friends, and other fluent Chinese speakers labeled me as the one who knew how to speak Chinese, but didn’t know how to read and write.

So my English isn’t good and I am left out,
So my Chinese isn’t good and I am left out.

I don’t blame them; they don’t know any better…

It’s sad growing up and not knowing the meaning of your name because your parents can’t tell you what it means.

I’ve felt so angry watching my parents succeed and fail, fail and succeed, succeed and fail because they don’t understand this new world they live in.

Even today I’m trying to figure out how I fit in and with whom.

Hi my name is Solomon Chan.

Have they ever thought of me as a chink?

你好! 我的名字是陳天略.

Will they think of me as too American?

Can I be one of them or someone different and still feel like I belong?

Where can I just be?

Who would I be?!?

Why am I so stressed?!?

Who do I…?!?

I don’t blame them; they don’t know any better…

Time Does Not Wait

This poem is dedicated to my friend Sonny Manning


Time Does Not Wait

Fast or slow
Up and down
Sideways to sideways
However you decide to move and push, push and pull
Time does not wait
The births and deaths of this reality are dialed into the eternal trajectory of mystery
As the universe expands and spreads out its proud peacock feathers
As the stars that were once magnificent monarchs of the galaxies begin to waste away
The plights of our hearts’ tears and laughter are interwoven into the molecules of God’s soul
Your soul, my soul, God’s soul
Our souls
Move together in time and time does not wait
Because time is time
It is time
And your time is up…down…sideways to sideways…move and push…push and pull
The affect of your being bounces back off of it like a ricocheting bullet
It is mindless and not your father
Time does not wait. Damn it! It does not wait for you!
But sometimes it can fool you
You see…
As you moved through the river of your mother’s birth canal
Time was the water that carried you and pushed you into the wave of air that nestled your skin and filled your lungs
Time was the thing that dragged your heart through broken shards of glass as you questioned why she left you and left you this way
Time and time again it seems to happen like this
Time did not care as your body awkwardly changed to catch up with those seemingly confident ones that walked around as if time had a favorite son
How much time before I am favored and can walk around proud, if not at least unashamed?
And time was there to whittle away on your bones and joints and marrow and flesh while you lay curled up in a fetal position wondering if it was your time to go
Time was there pouring honey over your shaking nerves as your lips met hers for the first time
And the floodgates of your heart opened with the affection that had been locked up in the storehouses for such a long time finally bursting over the dams
You can still see the mist rising above the rush and tender caress in slow motion
In your distant memories
Because you’ve also seen the dam desolate, cracked, and dry like the dessert clay
Remembering how the waters of time continued to push as you watched her float away in its raging rapids
Until the time there was no water left but the tears that rolled down your cheeks
Time introduced you to the vilest of enemies who would pierce your heart with the sharpest of words and bluntest of betrayals
And the closest comrades who would guard your heart with the fiercest of acts and tenderest of embraces
Who sometimes could just as easily switch positions in and of their own time, friend and enemy, enemy and friend
And time washed them away too
Like sand under the tides
One by one if not many by many
War moves through time
Peace moves through time
Life moves through time
Death moves through time
Fast or slow
Up and down
Sideways to sideways
However you decide to move and push, push and pull
Time does not wait. Damn it! It does not wait for you
…
But your soul, my soul, God’s soul
Our souls
Move together through time