VĂN HỌC NGHỆ THUẬT Liên Mạng

vhnt, số 67

26 September 1995

Thư Bạn Đọc

Chào bà con, 

Không ngờ chỉ một quán cỏn con như vầy mà lại tụ tập nhiều anh hùng hào kiệt đến thế.  Nghe cái lão ngoan đồng nào đó rủ rê xếp chữ mà tui đây cũng nôn.  Có điều làm thơ một lúc cả đoạn như vậy tui thấy hơi... dễ đó :)  Cho tui đề nghị mình chơi trò "thơ tập thể" một phen chăng?  

Cái trò này thời còn đi học tui với mấy tên bạn hay bày ra chơi, vừa vui vừa dễ lại vừa khó :)  Dễ ở chỗ ai muốn viết gì thì viết, khó ở chỗ phải làm sao cho bài thơ có bố cục và ý nghĩa.  Và vui là ở hai chỗ đó :)) 

Chị chủ quán ơi, nếu chị đồng ý thì cho Ian tui đề nghị mình thử làm thơ tập thể được không?  Cách thức rất dễ: ai muốn tham dự thì gởi riêng cho chị một cái email, xong chị sắp theo thứ tự ai tới trước đi trước, ai tới sau đi sau.  Nếu muốn, chị có thể ra một cái đề nào đó cũng được.

Hình thức thì đại khái đến phiên ai thì người đó được viết một câu (hai cũng dược nếu cần cho rõ ý).  Chỉ vậy thôi.  Sau đó, nếu cần có thể đem bài thơ ra gọt dũa lại cho xuôi là ta có ngay một công trình "nghệ thuật tập thể" :))

Bà con thấy sao? 

ianb 

PS. cái lão ngoan đồng kia, ta đi tìm nhà ngươi từ cái hôm nhà ngươi đột ngột xuất hiện trên SCV phá câu đối ta dùng để nạp tên dongthap, giờ lại gặp nhà ngươi ở quán này.  quả là ông trời có mắt lắm vậỵ sao, có dám làm thơ tập thể không thì bảo :)))

Sau đây là ba bài thơ của các bạn trẻ SàiGòn.  Ba bài đều hay, ngôn ngữ thơ thật huyền ảo và dịu dàng.  Tôi chưa hề nghe và biết về Hoa thiêm thiếp, nhưng nghe hay quá câu "Thiêm thiếp tím trong chiều quê xa" hoặc "Thiêm thiếp nay đừng thiêm thiếp nữa."  Còn bài "Mẹ quê" thật cảm động, nói về bà mẹ Nam bộ suốt đời tần tảo vì con, có khác gì bà mẹ Bắc trong bài "Bà mẹ quê" của Phạm Duy.  Ôi những bà mẹ Việt Nam yêu dấu và đáng kính của chúng ta!  Trong bài "Chờ em từ núi", hiểu làm sao câu "Ánh ỏi hát và chờ em tới" hoặc "Những phù vân từ núi vọng xa mềm"?  Cần gì hiểu, phải không, hãy cảm nhận bằng quả tim yêu THƠ của các bạn.

Dũng Nguyễn

oOo

Hoa Thiêm Thiếp

Bao năm phố lạ chân hành khất

Mỏi tay bồng bế giấc mơ con

Quẩn quanh tìm những diều không thật

Chẳng còn hoa tặng những lối mòn

Ngang chiều tay ngắt nhành thiêm thiếp

Mãi thương em xa lắc lối về

Tiếng nhị cầm cứa môi đau ngất

Thiếu phụ quê hát khúc ru quê

Ðiều ngỡ mất là điều chưa mất

Thiêm thiếp tím trong chiều quê xa

Ðiều ngỡ có là điều đã mất

Tuổi thơ thôi còn mang sắc hoa

Bao năm cầu nhớ sang sông nhớ

Ðò mơ không xuôi lại bến mơ

Mai trúc có sa duyên ngày cũ

Biết đâu còn thơ mà tìm thơ

Thiêm thiếp nay đừng thiêm thiếp nữa

Tím làm gì trên phố người ta

Nhẩn nha vài nỗi buồn lục lạc

Chiều quê vàng.  Mùa xưa vắng hoa

Ðàm Hà Phú

Mẹ Quê

Mẹ gánh trái vườn ra chợ bán

Ði từ gà gáy bận đầu tiên

Ðộ chừng cách chợ năm trăm thước

Ðặt gánh bên đường mặc áo thêm

(Ðó là chiếc áo dành ra chợ

Mẹ mặc bên ngòai, áo cũ trong)

Ðôi dép lấy ra trong giỏ đệm

Cùng lon gô nước rửa chân...

Mẹ quê Hữu Ðịnh hay An Phước?

Băng quãng đồng xa tới chợ thành

Hàng bán đơn sơ bày góc chợ

Trái vườn:chuối, bưởi,ít cam, chanh!

Ði chợ mẹ chưa hề biết chợ

Cà phê hủ tiếu, phơ/ nào ngon!

Mẹ đi chợ nắng mưa chân đất

Có đôi dép mỏng cũng sợ mòn!

Mẹ quê ta đó, mẹ ta đó

Suốt đời gánh cực chỉ vì con

Ta như dòng nuớc băng ra biển

Có lúc còn quên trở lại nguồn..

Hoàng Việt

Chờ Em Từ Núi

Những miền núi thật cao được anh dựng

lên bằng ảo tưởng

Em có thích tìm đến đấy không

Anh sẽ ngồi chòng vòng ở dưới chân

Ánh ỏi hát và chờ em tới

Cỏ sẽ chạy dài quanh khắp núi

Một khu rừng ảo hóa giấc mơ anh

Cổ tích hình như nghe gõ cửa

Trăng ngang tàng thức đếm từng canh

Nhớ đến nhé em

đừng ầm vang như thác

Náo động anh mình một ở trong đêm

Nghe chót bót càng thêm lạc giọng

Những phù vân từ núi vọng xa mềm

Nguyễn Hữu Huy Nhật

Bình Minh Bửa Củi

mặt trời lên

búa sáng

cỏ ấm lòng

bàn chân

nhạc thu mang tiếng gió

xuân.

9'95

ianb

Này Em

ngày gió lên

anh thả lá vàng sang bên nớ

mượn bài thơ

anh ngỏ ý làm quen

hình như bởi lời tình rất dở

nên quay nhìn

em chống mắt rất kênh

chiều anh về

trong khói thuốc tìm quên

và khổ sở

vì tim còn hoài nỗi nhớ

trời lạnh

anh một mình trên phố

ngỡ hồn là cơn bão rớt rơi

ngỡ tình là giấc mơ thôi

nên buồn

anh gởi tình bay theo gió

đêm vàng võ

anh ngồi như thân tượng

giữa công viên

cứ bảo rằng anh điên

nhưng này em

anh yêu rất thật...

Mán Thuận
(PCL sưu tầm)

Back Home 95
(Part 6 - continued)

I came a little early.  No one showed up at the arrival exit gate yet.  On the contrary there were many people at the departure entrance gate.  The numbers seemed to shift between the departure and arrival out gates; more here less there and less here more there.  I walked over hoping to find some departure Viet Kieu whom I might know.  There were many small booths situated along on the outside of the airport station selling all kinds of things such as cakes, soft drinks, candies, books, little toys... 

I couldn't find any Viet Kieu whom I knew so I returned to the arrival exit gate hoping to find the guard I talked to yesterday.  He wasn't there yet.  I proceeded to walk to the right toward the waiting rooms.  In there I saw a sign with a single word "Lost" written in big English letters.  Ah, maybe I could find my lost travel permit here.

There were 3 guards in uniforms standing around with nothing to do.  They didn't even pay me any heed when I walked in and browsed around.

"Excuse me, I am a Viet Kieu," I said. 

"Yes?" said one of the guard staring at me curiously. 

"I lost my travel permit paper yesterday when I got out of the custom area." 

"Yes?"

"I need a new travel permit."

"Hm, I don't know.  Did you try the departure area way on the other end?"

 "Yes.  I did but they don't know anything!"

 "Hm.  Did you try the arrival area?" 

"Yes.  They don't know either."

"Hm.  Let me see," said the guard, scratching his chin. 

I waited.  He looked around trying to find someone who might have some ideas.  Another guard came and they conversed with each other.  The other shook his head and looked blankly at me.

There was a bar inside also.  In this bar there was a crowd of teenagers, all heads came together, tentatively watching a soccer game on a small color television.  A woman was sweeping the floor.  Two others were wiping the glass wall with sponges in their hands and buckets at their feet.

"You see, there?" I said, pointing my finger toward the sign above the window at a corner.  "It says 'Lost'.  Maybe I can find my lost item therẹ  Don't you think?"

"Oh, no.  No one's there."

"Well, at least let me try.  You know, I think if they found my lost stuff they might turn it in to this place."

 "No.  You can't go there," said the guard, pushing slightly at my shoulders.

 "Then, where should I go."

 "Don't know.  Try the arrival custom area again."

I was fed up with the whole system.  Why did they hire people who knew much of nothing?  But of course, a fool I was.  Why, guards knew nothing but guard, making sure no one got inside.  And that was exactly what I tried to do and thus I failed many times.  But the people who knew something were all inside and there was no way I could go inside without passing the guards.  And so I was a fool without choice.  I continued to walk around at the front of the airport station absent mindedly.  I then bumped into an information booth at a lonely corner which had never crossed my mind of its existence.

 "Excuse me, I need help," I said.

 "Yes?" said a lady. 

"Where do I go to get my travel permit stamped?"

"Huh?  Oh, I don't know."

"Where's the restroom?"

"Right there."

Oh, great.  How could I missed it?  At the entrance of the restroom there was a table with two women sitting behind it.  I walked pass them. 

"Here.  Here.  Five hundred please," said one of the women. 

"Huh?  Oh," I said, fishing in my pocket for five hundred Dong.  "Here."

The woman handed me a pink sheet of toilet paper.  I took the toilet though knew not what for.  I was impressed with the restroom's modern interior decoration.  It had sinks and flushing toilets and all the convenient stuffs that a civilized world could not live without.  As it turned out, there was no paper towel or toilet paper in the restroom. 

Finally the arrival custom area was getting busy with coming Viet Kieu.  Out of the blue I saw hundred of people stood eagerly on their feet at the fence.  I spied the same guard standing stiffly like a statue with his hand folded behind his back. 

"Excuse me, it's me again," I said, smiling. 

It took him a few seconds to recognize me.  Then, he made a frowning face. 

"Yes?"

"We talked for hours yesterday.  Remember?"  

"Yes?"

"Please.  Help me to get my travel permit stamped." 

"I told you, I can't.  I would like to but I can't.  Don't you see? I am busy out here." 

"It won't take long.  All you have to do is go in there get it stamped and walk back out."

"No.  No," he shook his head repeatedly. 

"Look.  I am supposed to register with the local officers at the place where I stay," I complained.  "I must let them know of my existence within 48 hours.  My time is over.  If I get into trouble, I'd blame you and the people who serve here at the airport.  It is the service here that delay me from doing what the laws here require!"

I couldn't believe I actually dare to threaten him.  The expression on his face changed ever so slightly that it all of a sudden shook me to the root of my temper.  But it was too late, I had to be firm and ugly with him.  We stared at each other for a moment but this moment seemed to last forever in me. 

"No.  Please.  I beg you.  I told you a thousand times already.  Don't you threaten me," said he. 

Well, I didn't mean to.  Behind my increasing boiling temper there was a bomb that about to explode.  I couldn't help it anymore.

"I am not going anywhere without my travel permit stamped."

We locked eyes at each other again but immediately I dropped out of the ring.  The guard calmed down and so did I. 

"There is another way.  You go all the way to the right," said the guard, pointing to my left.  "Then you make a right turn at the corner and then you go up the stairs which will lead you to the top of the custom arrival area.  From up there you wait until somebody dressed in a uniform come out.  You ask him for help.  He'll be able to help.  Good luck."

 Good luck.  I saw no hope there.

 "How do I know who is the right person to ask?" I said.

"Simple.  You look for a person with some bronze stars on the shoulders."

My goodness, look how he talked!  I didn't believe my ears.  What was I supposed to do?  Called down to the superior man below and dropped him my worthless travel permit paper and then expected him to stamp and give it back?  I couldn't help but imagine the picture.

The guard walked away from the fence to a distance where I couldn't reach him but his eyes never left me.  I stood unmoved knowing that sooner or later he had to come back to his designated spot.  A few minutes later he came back.

"Please.  Help me," I said desperately, begging. 

"Wait here.  They're busy inside.  I'll help you when the time comes." 

"You promise?" 

"Please.  Don't you worry." 

"Thank you very much!"

Finally we got somewhere.  I waited excitedly.  There were Viet Kieu coming out with tons of luggage on the carts.  The minutes their relatives saw them, they rushed at one another, hugging, talking, and laughing like birds.  Looked like it was a happy reunion for them.  Then, all of a sudden a man wearing sunglasses, boots, Jeans, black T-shirts came strolling through the entrance.  The guard rushed over to stop the strange man.

"Heavens.  Where you going?" said the guard.

"I am going in there," replied the man.

"No, you're not," said the guard as he grabbed the man's shoulders.

The man gave a big laugh, backed a step, and then shook the hand of the guard.  I zoomed in my vision toward the hand shake and found what I expected!  There was an exchange between the hands but the guard resisted by pushing the man out.  Hundreds of eyes were locking on the two.  The man backed out reluctantly and then disappeared into the crowd with his gloomy face.  I felt so excited.  Ah, why didn't I think of that!  Money. 

One hour later I found myself being ignored by the guard who promised to help me.

"Please.  I have been waiting for so long now," I said. 

"Wait a little more.  I haven't seen any chance yet," said the guard.

Soon there was no one left waiting at the fence.  All arrival passengers had already got out of the airport and gone for ages.  The guard also disappeared like smoke!

Damn, I cursed.  I had to wait another hour or so for him to appear.  Next time I was going to tear him apart if I had to, I said to myself, trying to soothe my anger.

I took a deep breath and headed toward the half filled parking lot.  I sat on the marble bench and began to write a letter to the teachers of Huong Viet School.  I told them everything was fine except for a little problem I had but it wasn't much of a big deal.  I wrote a letter to VNHelp.  I found a small post office on the far left of the airport.

"Can I use the phone," said a man.

"There," said a young lady behind the counter.

"Excuse me, how much to mail a letter to the United States?" I said.

 "Eight thousand Dong," said the lady.

"You have envelope?" 

"One thousand Dong."

"Give me two."

The man finished talking on the phone].

"How much?" said he. 

"One thousand."

The man paid and left.  I inserted the letters into the envelopes.

 "Here.  A total of nineteen thousand Dong, right?" I said.

The girl took the envelopes and the money.  She used a tiny calculator to add up the sum again to make sure. 

"Want me to paste the stamps for you?" said she. 

"Yes.  Please do." 

"Want me to mail them for you."

 "Yes.  Uh, sure.  Please."

I walked away but no further than three paces when something suddenly struck me in the head.  Why, I heard rumors that sometimes people at the post office ripped you off by peeling off your stamps and trashing your letters.  It never occurred to me that I should wait to see the girl stick the stamps on my envelopes.  I looked back.  The girl was busy doing something else.  Oh, well, I hoped she mailed them.  In fact, one letter later reached Huong Viet School in the United States, and the other, lost.  

Another hour passed and I found myself standing near the guard in a crowd.  He looked very guilty.

"You tricked me!" I said.

He looked hurt.

"No.  I didn't.  I saw a chance but you were nowhere in sight.  I couldn't find you!" said the guard.  "Please wait a bit more.  Don't worry." 

And so I waited... and waited... and waited, but then I felt the chance of getting my travel permit stamped was thinner than winning a lottery jack pot.

The young man standing at the tourist's booth recognized me.  He  approached.

"Oh, so it is you again," he said with a sympathetic smile.

"Yes.  Look like I will never get it stamped," I said, frowning.

"Look.  Let me tell you something.  Why don't you give them some money.  I am sure they will do it for you in a flash.  You don't give them money, they're not going to do it.  You know, a few dollars is nothing to you.  It won't hurt."

Oh, yes, somehow, it hurt.

"Here.  Here.  Five dollars.  Can you help me?" I said, involuntarily yielding to the bribery system, finally. 

"No.  Not me.  Him," whispered the man, pushing my hand away.  "Don't do that.  Put your money in your passport and hand it to him."

I approached the guard again and touched him with my passport.  He saw my 5 dollar bill sticking out.  He cast his eyes on the money like a laser detector.  He then walked away slowly, looked around, cast his eyes at the money again, and then came back. 

"Just a moment," he whispered.

15 minutes later the chance did not come. 

"How much you give?" whispered the tourist guide. 

"Five Dollars," I mumbled.

"Five?  Heavens.  More." 

I put another 5-dollar bill into my passport.  He walked away.  Now, the hurt doubled.

Ten dollars meant a lot to me and to the poor Vietnamese people, in Vietnam, that is, if one knew how to spend correctly.  On the contrary, ten dollars meant much less to nothing if it is in the hand of the bottomless system. 

Again, I touched the guard showing him that I got more.  He looked at my passport and took it nervously with watchful eyes.  He waited for a few minutes before he made the move.  I held my breath and followed his movement. 

My, all of a sudden I felt so vulnerable.  What if the guard lost my passport and visa too?

The chance finally came!  From inside appeared a middle aged man in uniform with some bronze stars clipping on his shoulders.  The guard walked quickly toward the man.  They exchanged brief talk.  The man took my passport from the guard and disappeared inside like a puff of smoke.  The guard turned toward me, gave a slight signal with his eyes, and then paced up and down along side the entrance door.  I waited tensely.  Sometimes one moment of idle could be eternal to a desperate soul.

Five minutes later I saw the guard came toward and handed me my passport.  I Checked carefully making sure everything I needed was there.  My travel permit was stamped with a long serial number in red.  The young tourist guide also came to check it out.  In my excitement, unaware of the previous bad influence, I took out two 10-thousand Dong to tip both of them but they refused to accept the money. 

I had no more reason to linger at the airport so I began to find my way out.  I figured it would cost more to take a ride from inside the airport.  Thus, I walked slowly toward the open gate, taking my time.  That was it.  I felt more secure and happier that I finally got it over with.  But then, something dawned on me again.  Not yet, it wasn't over yet.  I had another business to take care of.  My book, the one that was being retained at the airport for inspection.  Tomorrow, Wednesday, was the day I supposed to go pick it up.  I had 30 days to claim it.  If after 30 days, it would no longer be mine. 

Up in the sky clouds began to gather in great mass.  Just this morning the sky was so clear and pleasant without a spot but now half covered with clouds.  People seemed to hurry up to look for shelter.  A drop of rain hit my face as I looked up.  I spread my hands out trying to feel the rain.  Then  came another drop and another and another.  The first thing came to my mind was, shelter.  With no time to decide I broke into a run head over heel back toward the airport.

(To be continued...)

Thank you for reading.
Lam T. Hy

MY OTHER JOURNALS:

   Back Home 91 (4 parts)

   Back Home 93 (15 parts)

   Back Home 95 (part 3 in progress)