I Remember

I Remember

By Ainsley A. Cheng

I remember a time
When we played "Grown-Up"
With lipstick in one hand,
A mirror in another.

It feels like it was only
Just yesterday -
Even if it was many
A many.

I remember a time
When we would laugh
About the silliest of things -
Yet it seems,

Those were
The most beautiful,
Most memorable,
And most joyful.

I remember a time
When we cried
About broken hearts,
Angry teachers,
And even
About our own.

It feels like it was only
Just yesterday -
Even if it was many
A many.

I remember a time
When we endured
Terrible fashion
And bad haircuts -

Such rules,
Expectations -
We cannot even
Begin to imagine today.

I remember a time
When it was always
Just us
Against the world.

Our days were
Books,
Dolls,
and our braids.

I remember a time
When we sat together
And our memories were
Black and white.

Our memories were
Chained together
By numbers, classes,
And tests.

I remember a time
When we were
All
Apart.

In different
Parts of the world -
Seemed too, too
Far.

I remember a time
When we wrote
Cards and letters
Just to remember

When we were just
Blocks away,
Spending hours
And hours together.

I remember a time
When we bickered -
Pushing the check
Back and forth

Promising
That next time,
Next time,
It would be you.

I remember a time
When it was easy
To forget and
To rip apart

Whenever it seemed
That one forgot
The other or
Another.

I remember a time
When having you
By my side was better
Than having someone new

I would be
The self I once
Remembered,
Cherished.

I remember
Always, always...

"Like Strength," She Responded

"Like Strength," She Responded.

by Ainsley A. Cheng

"Like her mother,"
They all said.
She would smile
And nod her head.

"Like a child,"
They'd all say.
Yet, this was my,
My favorite look.
The quietest laugh
... Somehow the loudest
and the most cheerful -
I could hear it with my heart.

"Like home,"
But what is home?
Her pink shirt?
Children's play table?
Warm air blowing
From the air vent?

"Like beauty."
She brushed her hair.
"Better than the salon?
I watched them."
She closed her eyes
... And allowed her
To run the comb through
Her silvery roots.

"Like lost."
Her eyes,
Her eyes,
Unsure.

"Like hope."
She'd wonder,
Wonder,
and wait.

"Like a picture."
Perfect -
A snapshot to
Remember
Today,
Today,
Almost like
Yesterday.

"Like - no, is happy."
She was not ready
To go,
To go.

"Like patient,"
She waited, waited.
She didn't want time
To go, to go.

"Like forever."
Even as she knew
She'd see light
Again, again.

"Like love."
Always always -
She never gave up
Knowing that
Small words,
Gestures -
That's all
That was
Needed.

"Like goodbye."
But no -
Always
Until
Next time,
Next time.

Voices

Voices

By Ainsley A. Cheng

There's no photo that can capture

A familiar smell, touch, or sound.

Yet that immense fear -

Fear of being forgotten

Puts you in the lens

That is then forever remembered,

At least,

Just for a little bit.

His laugh when the TV was on

And moments when you'd get upset

Cause his kisses smelled of cigarettes

And his hands smelled of cards.

But all moments when

There was his voice.

His love for you -

Just as he loved his daughter.

You were reminder of when she was small.

He'd dance, sing, and even laugh

Just so you would feel

Love.

And then her.

Still here, and yet feeling so distant.

Her home, no longer hers -

She sits in a different chair now.

Her home no longer smells familiar,

No longer lingers of her love.

You sit in her chair,

Feeling small,

Despite the fact that it's been years

And you fit almost perfectly -

Feet no longer dangling

And the head comfortably on the rest.

She's left behind traces,

Even forgotten things -

Never used things.

It's not the dust that breaks,

But the forgottenness -

That breaks your heart.

And then the things she's kept

Just to remember -

Remember your face

even when she knows

One day, she won't remember

Or maybe you won't.

Their home  no longer is theirs

Even if pages say it is.

Each time you come back,

You just wait and listen -

Both their voices

Seem to be still there.

Notes of Strength

Notes of Strength - by Ainsley A. Cheng

For a moment, for a split second, that note, the aching melody, those words, they pull me into their arms just long enough for me to catch my breath. The comfort of those songs, of music— be it the playfulness of Bach’s Inventions, the joyousness of Mozart’s Sonatas, the rebellious nature of Lady Gaga, the childish words of Taylor Swift, or the upbeat-catch-your-heart-feel of Jimmy Eat World—carry me away from the world almost too perfectly. Comfort, oh, the comfort – people wouldn’t understand the chills that just run up and down your spine on days that don’t seem to make sense. But a song, a simple song, translates your feelings into words and music; for that minute, listening, you realize that someone out there gets you wholeheartedly, and you’re not alone. I’m not alone. It’s then that I remember exactly why in times of silence – when no one’s home, TV’s off, radio quiet – my music becomes my strength, my escape, my joy, my tears, my everything that I turn to.

Changing circumstances and growing up constantly color new music into my life because with every event, every person, and every moment, I’ve found that I am always able to find a song to perfectly explain my exact feelings and emotions that occur at that time. Because of this, I truly believe that my love for music cannot be limited to or put into a small box of qualities and characteristics to describe it. My interests are all over the musical spectrum and with the change of the day, it fluctuates and transforms, but essentially it’s the ultimate combination of the perfect words and the perfect melody that are the hook-line-and-sinker. My heart and mind can’t differentiate the artists every time, but the above recipe of perfection, just does it for me. I cannot simply pinpoint a single artist, a genre, or a type of music to generalize my taste in music. It comes with the day – today it may be Sara Bareilles and her feel-good-uplifting poetry, tomorrow it may be Muse and their eerie yet enticing voices in combination with their strange musical arrangement, and yesterday, it could have been Miley Cyrus and her get-up-on-your-feet-and-dance Party in the U.S.A. My interest is fickle. The days that seem lonely and too quiet for my own good are painted perfectly by songs like Superstar sung by the yearning voices of the Carpenters, Where I Stood by the scratchy voiced and extremely talented Australian artist, Missy Higgins. The single moments that elation just breaks out all over my face and my body language are depicted so well by the innocent and youthful songs by Taylor Swift, the upbeat-kick-off-your-shoes Are You Gonna Be My Girl by Jet, ABBA, The Beatles, and Jimmy Eat World. The incidents that my heart is just wrenched in frustration and hurt can easily be lined by Taking Back Sunday and their throwing-guitars-and-TVs-on-stage ways, old-school Yellowcard and their known “emo” whiny lyrics, and finally, Eminem and his dangerously vulgar rap. Today, I will tell you that all these artists and their songs are only a small taste of what I enjoy, but tomorrow, it may be a whole new list. Find me a song that carries my heart and soul, and that is all I need, nothing more, and nothing less.

Standing As One

Standing As One

by Ainsley A. Cheng, 2010

Trust me, not in spontaneity,

But of the utmost sincerity,

From the valleys of your heart,

The only depths that will understand,

Because here I am,

Standing as one.

Allow me, not in reluctance,

But in reassurance,

Send me, not in fear and hesitance,

But in joy and acceptance,

That I am and that I will be

Standing as one.

One, whose hands will not forget

Every step, every time, every word of guidance.

One, whose two feet will probably stand

Because they once were grounded in your strength.

One, whose mind will succeed

With the encouragement instilled.

One, whose heart will boldly love

In likeness to the heart that mended the broken pieces.

For you,

I am forever

Standing as one.

Hold My Last

Hold My Last 

by Ainsley A. Cheng, 2010

Even with the sun setting,

Quieting winds dancing,

Winged creations fleeting,

The newborn flame can still burn,

One last time.

Even when the steps lengthen,

Time impatiently grows,

Conversations, in meaning, lose,

Please triumph this day,

One last time.

Even as hills become mountains,

As each star shoots further away,

As the clouds become the only cover,

Leave me in my strength,

One last time.

Even when the fact breaks the emotion,

The reason wins the heart,

The last word replaces every explanation,

Let me hold my last everything,

One last time.

Even if tomorrow sweeps you off your feet,

Today is forgotten or stored away,

Yesterday only the lingering fragrance of simplicity,

Remember my hands, even if it is,

One last time.