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Cathy
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Cathy joined the University this year and works in an administrative department. As a young professional, she is eager to immerse herself in all the opportunities that the University offers. With a newcomer’s lack of preconceived notions, she offers a fresh look at the various facets of HKBU life.


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Hands-on business experience
Inspiring future journalists
Remembering in words
Writing the Metropolis
The art of science and vice versa

Remembering in words
2012-11-21 11:06:00.0 網誌分類: 我的專業
 

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about meeting some of the writers who are participating in this year’s International Writers Workshop (IWW). The activities under the IWW include a short story and a poetry writing competition for HKBU students, judged by some of the visiting writers. The winner of both competitions this year was the same student, Zabrina Lo Shu-siu, who clearly has a flair for creative writing.

Her poem The Marine Police was inspired by the recent ferry tragedy in Hong Kong, having watched the rescue effort from her home in Aberdeen. Reading it, one can acutely feel the courage and also the pathos that night. So read this poem and then close your eyes and spare a thought for those whose lives were irrevocably changed on 1 October.

The Marine Police
A tribute to all the heroes in Lamma Island Ferry Crash 2012

I see the bones of my fingers
Lifeless, daunting, tarnished
Tis the hand of once a savior
With larger than life convictions burnished

Years of battles against the turquoise tongue
I pulled back poor souls with my own bare hands
The grace of a savior who gave life
The pride of a hero who let live

But life was a line sometimes the hero couldn’t drag
Like vapour, their souls I never managed to grip
Their eyes screaming as the sea sucked them back
I gently waved as they went on their last lonely trip

The thought that I rescued him got me overwhelmed
But he begged with his last breath a promise to make
Tell them… tell them I love them… them…
Then like a newborn, whose sleep was too seductive to wake

I gawk at my corroded colourless fingers
Sometimes I still feel the pulse of the boy faltering
And the screams like electricity over my tips that linger
My flesh RIPped by every soul to fathoms down it brings

I keep apologizing, apologizing, apologizing
Who was I to determine who deserved to be the living?
I wish I was a true savior
A savior that the world never needs

In death I grow up to be a true hero –
A guardian stationing the life and death crossroads
Who strives to save and lasts to wave
Battered, burdened, but invincible

Again and again, I let live and let them go.


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