THE NOMADLAND & TWELVE TALES
THE OUTSIDER PRESS MANCHESTER
AND EDITED BY ILLUSTRATED BY
T E A M N O M A D
SELECTED
LX.T L.Z QR.W SQ.G.
I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. Check Point Lightbox The Second Coming Inside The Whale Rhythm Place Mall City How Soon Is Now Back Of House Turn On The Sun Cloud Platform Walk In Emmental The Concern From A Family
Content
Preface
You might have experienced this situation, my dear reader, after waking up from a familiar but surreal dream, there was a moment when you more or less felt alienation from the real world. It might slip before your mind now and then like a fleeting shadow, or be interpreted as blurred images or words and eventually become a fortuitous memory. I'm obsessed with this idea. Therefore, I made a prompt decision to collate and publish them when I came across these manuscripts at a shop corner.
It was composed with 12 short poems, scattered around with no front page. Except that, there was no more information of when or by whom they were written. As I started to collate, I could distinguish two writers by handwriting; one is tidy and another is more like a random diary. Their poems are varied in perspective, but strangely, delivered a similar absurd and fragmented atmosphere. Later, I commissioned friends to illustrate each poem to make the narrative richer, and then arrange them with our personal perception. We are not able to find the source of these tales, but they certainly are expressing a more mysterious story. Then, please forget the reality for a moment and enter this intersected dream.
I
Check Point
He is reborn as he moves freely among the boundaries.
Each stamp is like a scalding brand of his mind.
The nameless crave identity, like the passenger thirst for stillness.
Endlessly travelling drown his clamour of silence.
The fading past flourishes in the impotent’s dream, Where he could be settled again.
II
Lightbox
We praise the image sensor, its skeleton forms our connection.
The daydream of understanding each other, has been sealed in a black box.
Where unescapable light flutters around.
We barricade against the different. But tonight, we meet again in the delusion of those white eyes.
The Second Coming
A tribute to the god, in a mysterious temple far far away.
At the end of that river, where the ones with belief could stay.
We used to live in the dark, until god answered to our pray.
Therefore, we have power, generation after generation.
We shall not forget, let the light fade away.
IV
Inside the Whale
Dozens of young fishermen convince that they saw a whale, and the news was brought back to the dock.
The monster is larger than ten courts, a young man said. Every time it sprays, it’s like a rapid rain, another man added.
No one in the crowd believed the story, even the most experienced old salt saw no whales in the North Sea.
Then they steered away.
When the night comes, untouchable shadow approach to city, burnished and humming.
V
Rhythm Place
The saxophone and the piano play two lines, sometimes intersect, sometimes parallel.
The lively freedom of the blues comes with the rhythm of the sheet.
Music reaches all ears equally, it doesn’t curtsy for the noble or the royal.
Let’s dance before the club closes.
VI
Mall City
A flood of advertising images. A radio that won’t stop.
Always loud and colourful.
The linear cut through like a sword, one side is living, one side is work.
People lined up on the conveying belt like ants, waiting to be disassembled.
The monument, the church, the history, the culture. The Mall.
VII
How Soon is Now?
The snow melts, hill stream among its pebbles.
A man packed his luggage, tied his shoes.
Where this journey might lead him is still unknown.
More winter comes, with more patience and persistence.
He still must set off again and again with hope, respectfully follow the arrangement of nature.
Weakly, tamely shuttle across this land.
VIII
Back of House
Some say, you can hear howling inside the wall at night, like a giant beast.
Some say, there is a tunnel connectingthe city to land, where everything is provided.
Some are determined to go and live in the world above, wondering how different it would be.
But no one dares to go down and wake the beast.
IX
Turn On the Sun
It is not allowed to contaminate the hidden gold utensils with other people’s fingerprints.
The collection of favourite landscapes needs to be put in velvet metal boxes.
the muffled sound of the trees cried out desire. The noise of the moment scoffs at the music of the eternal.
Turn on the sun,
We conspired quietly, to keep a private forest between square inches.
Cloud Platform
Ripples of dots, Like burning holes in a black canvas.
People hurriedly pass by and encounter in the dark, shining bright light.
The whisper of eternal shadows, waves at the shore of the world, languishes in silence.
it’s a single sparkle that starts a prairie fire, an individual that becomes a herd.
X
XI
Walk In Emmental
What’s inside an emmental？ There are countless tunnel.
No way in, No way out.
Only wait, walk, and run, With nothing happens at all.
Empty shells from which no one has written, and of course with no one would work that out.
Waiting to be shattered in the dust, what’s inside an emmental？
