That's it.

photo by Aidairi
image from morguefile.com

That's it, folks. The 8 poems I sent for the Golden Point Award competition.

I wrote about a dozen for the competition, but I chose these 8. I thought these were the meanest and strongest of the bunch. Well, maybe it was not mean enough (or it was too loud for the judges' liking).

Another 3 or 4 that didn't make the cut are languishing somewhere in my thumb drive. Maybe one day, I will post those rejects too, if I should run out of ideas or steam. :)

before the next day

This is the 8th and final poem from my Golden Point Award entry.

I ended with this poem in the collection because, well, I am describing the end of a working day in Bukit Merah.





photo by kevin rosseel
image from morguefile.com



before the next day



the day is done.

vehicles swept past honking
angrily, red tail lights flaring
in the darkening dusk.

a light rain began to fall,
cold and unfeeling
on lengthening shadows

that glowering street lights
wrung from trees and metal,
smacking them down

on hard concrete
to writher in jerky throes
in the scattering rain.

we walked in the drizzle
out of the prisons of
the factories, the warehouses,

not really caring,
glad that the day
is over and done,

that it rained in June
that our cigarette tips
still burn red and hot

in the cold rain,
smoke trailing like lost dreams
as the world winded down,

going home to a hot dinner,
to sons and daughters,
to soft moments with lovers,


before the next day catches up again.



22.06.07
********
© cheong lee san (dsnake1)

the gods are watching over us in the morning

This is the 7th poem in the collection that I submitted to the GPA 2007 competition.

This poem tries to capture the sights and sounds of a morning in Bukit Merah.



photo by Jason Webber
image from morguefile.com


the gods are watching over us in the morning



in the half light that is the dawn over
the blocks of flats, when the night wind
gently slaps discarded papers and dead leaves
along the long expanse of corridor of our block,

i leave for work, my cigarette smoke mingling
with the perfumed incense my old neighbour lighted
to the God of Heaven, praying for safe passage
through the day for her and her loved ones.

then i walked past doors protected by talismans,
baguas, even cruxifixes, past homes guarded by waifs
of pomeranians that snarled from behind locked gates,
their barks, shrill and indignant, in the cool air,

go past flowerpots with plants badly in need
of watering, down the stairs through the coffeeshop,
through harsh fluorescent lights and whiffs of toast,
past grizzled old men drinking coffee from saucers,

then meet the hordes of sleepy-eyed children
sleepwalking to schools, the grandmothers
shuffling to the wet market to haggle over
fishes and vegetables.

the same gods are watching over us all.


revised 20.07.07
****************
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 )

and a time for love

This is the 6th poem in my collection I sent for the GPA competition.

This is actually part of a longer poem that I have but I took out some parts and use it as part of this series, as it was in Bukit Merah that I found my love.

It is not always gloom and doom in that housing estate, far from it. There's chivalry,compassion, love, honesty among the folks. Sure, it's a tough neighbourhood, sometimes blood was spilled, and it's always these sensational stuff that got noticed, not the ones about neighbours looking after the disabled kids, the smiles and greetings of a close-knit community.



photo by Hannes Keller
image from visipix.com

and a time for love



the scimitar of a moon
hung delicately in a cobalt dome
of dancing stars

as the rain trees
spread their arms their leaves
rustled in a chorus of joy

       they see love blossoming

her hands in mine
warm as morning's light, quiet
there was no need for words

       we looked up laughing

through the chatter of
the crickets, the cicada bands
tried to catch Sirius in our hands

31/07/2007
**********
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 )