visit

This is a poem of longing, and remembering. It was written during the qing ming period, when we visit the tombs and graves to clean them and to give offerings to those departed. It was published here before, but few eyeballs. So here it is again...

image by Habibistan at pixabay



visit


the war is over
a long time ago.
you fought bravely but still
the rampant cells won,
there's little i could do.

but every year i am here,
i wanted to hold your hands,
touch your cheeks,
to stem the tide of tears
down your face.

but this is just
a slab of cold marble,
with your name
and some dates which
i remember well.

you would have love
fresh flowers.
lilies,
peonies,
baby breath.

but i bring cloth
and plastic ones instead.
tacky, you would have said.
but they last longer
in this sun and rain.

and just like old times,
i light a cigarette,
sharing a smoke with you,
as a gentle wind blows
among rain-soaked trees...


05/04/2010
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qingming

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BAND-MAID - about us

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

mt. vernon, qingming 2013

It has been a busy week again, plus I am still in with NapoWriMo. This effort is from Day 3.




Photo by dsnake1




mt. vernon, qingming 2013




every year i am here
with the flowers and incense
to clean your grave
to clean that portrait
in the marble
that had smiled at me
all these years


i do not cry now
perhaps time has helped
but as always
i call your name
sometimes i bring a beer
light a cigarette
do the things we did


the sky today
is a shade of battle grey
yet a sun peeks out
its rays bathing your face
it is time to go then
i hesitate, i touch
that marble again



03/04/2013
**********

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Notes: During the Qingming Festival, the Chinese people visit the graves and burial grounds of their ancestors, sweep and clean the tombs, and make offerings of food, tea, joss sticks and paper.




Shared on Poetry Pantry #147 at Poets United

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2013

visit

Qing Ming is a traditional Chinese festival to remember and honour a family's departed ones. It is a time to tend and clean the tombs and graves, and to offer food, fruits, wine and tea. Joss sticks and candles are lit before the graves, and paper offerings of money, gold and silver are burnt in the hope that the departed ones can have a comfortable afterlife.

This poem is inspired after one such visit.



photo by Carlson
image from morguefile.com


visit


the war is over
a long time ago.
you fought bravely but still
the rampant cells won,
there's little i could do.

but every year i am here,
i wanted to hold your hands,
touch your cheeks,
to stem the tide of tears
down your face.

but this is just
a slab of cold marble,
with your name
and some dates which
i remember well.

you would have love
fresh flowers.
lilies,
peonies,
baby breath.

but i bring cloth
and plastic ones instead.
tacky, you would have said.
but they last longer
in this sun and rain.

and just like old times,
i light a cigarette,
sharing a smoke with you,
as a gentle wind blows
among rain-soaked trees...


05/04/10
********


© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ), 2010

Rust

The theme or phrase in Haikuworld's April 2008 kukai in the Free Format Section was "Rust". Again, I thought it was easy stuff...

Well, 4 points for the effort, and also a comment from a reader : "I really liked the combination of looking back _and_ moving on." Thank you for the comment. :)

Personally, I quite like the haiku too.



image from imageafter.com


Rust


missing dad.
sandpapering rust
off his old tool box.




and here is one that was not submitted :


rusted hulk of bike
abandoned at side of road.
journey's end.



© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 )

Repost : Mt. Vernon, at Qing Ming

I have been very busy with work lately. So i guess i will just repost an old post today. It was a poem that I had written for the National Arts Council's 2005 Golden Point Awards. The picture is recent. :)


image by dsnake1


Mt. Vernon, at Qing Ming



It seems like only yesterday
that we lost them
the memories are so fresh.

We light the candles & the incense
rearrange the fruits & joss
with clasped hands
bow to loved ones long gone
remembering sweet secrets we shared.
& licked by hungry flames
paper offerings
their ashes flutter
like unfulfilled dreams
& shifting in the wind
with the smoke and the chatter
a hint of frangipanni.

It seems like only yesterday
that we lost them
the portraits are so new.

09-04-2001
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Remembering

A visit to a cemetery inspired this.


image by dsnake1


Remembering


calm
among the plumeria
and palms

the rows of photographs
on stone slabs
with names carved in rock

each gaze
every face
impassive on marble
etched in time

and do they see
the living that come
in the sunshine, the rain
burning offerings?

remembering.


16.11.06
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