gangster movie

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

- Mary Oliver

photo by Sammy-Williams at pixabay



gangster movie


The pool hall is dark except for
the lights at the beige tables.
Two very bulky military police
guys push open the doors
and saunter into the hall
their eyes sharpened
for army deserters
their polished helmets
gleaming in the dim lights
their .45s automatics
in their holsters.

Boys, keep drinking your beers
don't get us into trouble.
The chatter dropped to a whisper
the clatter of ivory balls stopped
as they walked across the hall
steely eyes fixing on every face
every twitch of taut muscle
every curl of cigarette smoke
and there and then
i felt like a useless extra
in a gangster movie.



written 29/04/2009
revised 30/11/2012
revised 06/07/2021
***************


Note the revisions. A very longish poem came to this...

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SiM - The Sound of Breath

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

recipe for disaster, big city

Rosemary at Poets & Storytellers United would like us to write a recipe poem, last week. Yeah, a week late.

photo by darksouls1 at pixabay



recipe for disaster, big city


one very wrong turn
on one very wet night

one dark alley, dark and smelly
like overnight prawn paste

three big burly thugs shaking
one very frightened guy

oh poor you that bumped into the show
one hasty quiet retreat is

advised.



11/02/2023
**********


Inspired by Lawrence Ferlinghetti's "Recipe For Happiness Khaborovsk Or Anyplace"

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Chaos at the Do Lung Bridge, Apocalypse Now

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023

poetry lesson #13

Life is about choices, and sometimes we slip into a hole...

photo by BSD at Unsplash


poetry lesson #13


you begin by thinking that nothing
can kill you.
you forgot that you can be brittle
like a glass bottle
that you sometimes pick up in fights.

you look like someone's good brother
kind and polite.
but one day the cops come, SWAT and all
in your bag they find
an axe and loot from the goldsmith's heist.

you end up in an cold, empty apartment
on the run.
edgy, one sweaty hand on the kukri,
an outside cough
makes you run behind the locked door.

does it sounds like someone you know?
write a poem on that.


27/04/2022
**********

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“Until a man is twenty-five, he still thinks, every so often, that under the right circumstances he could be the baddest motherfucker in the world. If I moved to a martial-arts monastery in China and studied real hard for ten years. If my family was wiped out by Colombian drug dealers and I swore myself to revenge. If I got a fatal disease, had one year to live, and devoted it to wiping out street crime. If I just dropped out and devoted my life to being bad.”

― Neal Stephenson

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2022

the problem is money

it always is, isn't it?

photo of a wall mural by dsnake1



the problem is money


you think sleeping on it
it will go away?
what are the chances of
one striking the lottery?
and then losing it
the next day.
or shall we wait
like withered flowers
in a vase?
that's very unlike you
bringing it up
a couple of parang hacks
will do the trick?
come on, let's get a beer
while we are still breathing
how long can you live
staying in cheap dorms?
the problem is money
yeah
and that freighter to taiwan
too
one day a lady in red
will sell you out
for some coins
when you are having
your morning coffee.


12/05/2021
**********



Does this looks like a character out of a TV show? No, it is partly based on some real life gunmen and gangsters.

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The problem is no one plays the difficulty.

*
from “Three Problems” by Noah Eli Gordon

I was inspired by the lines from the above poem. This is a prompt from the Bibliomancy Oracle. It can work in criminal ways.

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

Tai Seng

He sat across from me. He said, "I will bury him." I thought, this guy is very unhappy and crazy. "Look, let's have another beer and I will take you home. Where do you live?". "Tai Seng", he said.

photo by Darius Bashar at Unsplash



Tai Seng



talking about
                 Tai seng
when we were watching Hard Boiled on the CD
you know, you can wander into that place
and never come out again.

taking another
                 swig of vodka
she in her teddies just bored
i have been there a couple of times, told her
the guys there are quite friendly

once i went there
                 to play cards
and when i left one of the guys
lifted a zinc sheet off the wall and outside
was a tiny alleyway with cut steps

just follow it
                 to the bus stop
just so casual, like old friends
the other time we went there to get grass
we found out what a labyrinth means

the dealer took us
                 left and right
we went through someone's house
the people didn't bat an eyelid, just nodded
like it was another day in the office

her silk dudou
                 a distraction
on the screen Chow Yuen Fatt
was shooting up the gangsters in the teahouse.
but i didn't seem to hear the gunfire

this probably is not a good time to talk about
                 Tai Seng


03/08/2020
**********


Ask any old-timer where are the most dangerous 'hoods on the island in the 70's and they will rattle off names like Tai Seng, The Gasworks, Geylang and Redhill. And in most lists will be Tai Seng.

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Band-Maid - Thrill (スリル)

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

the amulet

we need not walk alone.

photo by DavidZydd at pixabay


the amulet


she asks me, what's this thing around my neck.
it's an amulet, i say, it will protect me.
it protects me from spirits and snakes and small arms.

she works her fingers down my spine, expertly.

it's just a dirty dark metal thing, she says.
she knows all the pressure points on the body.
she kneads those knots, the pain rushes out like a cat.

an Irish saint is in there, don't be rude, i say.
but what's an Irish saint gotta do with you?
oh sweet, can you be generous and give that piece to me?

and then i go out there and stop a bullet tomorrow?

please? she works her fingers again, expertly.
she knows all the pleasure points on the body.
she kneads those knots, my hand reaches out to her waist.


21/05/2020
**********

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Band-Maid - Choose Me

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020

when angels fall

do we understand one's inhumanity to another, because of race, religion or beliefs?

photo by Comfreak at pixabay



when angels fall



If the rain that fall
are the tears of heaven
then it falls on the grasses
in the ravine at Babi Yar
on the ashes and bones that are
the herded naked
men women children
to the abattoir
and it falls on the barbed wires
and light towers at Auschwitz
on the pleas and screams
from locked chambers
the choking and
the gassed
and it splatters
on the blood-stained walls
at Tuol Sleng
screams in the corridors
as fingernails are pulled out
then the abused bodies hung on walls
where now row upon rows of
portraits of the dead stare back
their dead eyes
dead
mournful
and the rain
it is falling
on the hobnail boots of the demons
that are trampling on
the corpses of the angels...


21/04/2018
**********

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"If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face - forever."

-George Orwell

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020

dark side of the moon

The killing of a teenage girl more than a decade back made the news headlines then. The mother of the girl was arrested for the crime. The line between love and hate can be very fine...




photo by paulabflat
image from morguefile.com




dark side of the moon



if the moon could turn its face
so that she might live
that fateful moment
again
she would have counted to ten,
even two would do, waited for that
fog of red mist to die off
like an echo

but now

with blood-stained hands
and chained
and dragged
to hell
knelt before King Yama
and what can she tell
the Infernal Judge

that she loved
the daughter
she killed?


20/03/2009
**********


This is an unpublished work that has been sitting in the PC for a long time. Wonder why.

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“Mad Hatter: “Why is a raven like a writing-desk?”
“Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.
“No, I give it up,” Alice replied: “What’s the answer?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter”

― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ), 2020

the old gangster

If fights and prisons didn't get him, the old reaper in the end will...

photo by Anthony-X at pixabay




the old gangster


where once his panther tattoo
had flexed on sinewy muscles
is now faded on weathered skin

he sits at the coffee shop
alone
the blinds on his mind drawn
his gold ornaments glistening
in the morning sunlight
last night's fallen leaves
at his feet
he closes his eyes
slowly
sipping his tea

waiting
for the last parang slash
to fall
on his head.


revised 23/02/2018
****************

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"you are at the end of the alley
the metal in your hand heavy and cold
the sirens wail and wail
the hounds close in on the quarry"

-dsnake1, you are a starfish on a beach.

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020

autobiography of a minor hood

Sometimes you look at a picture, and it screams "prompt!".

photo from morguefile.com



autobiography of a minor hood




well, you look like you were constipating.
you think i stole and ate your fried chicken wings?
today is a saturday, you hate calendars, remember?
we don't mess around with tequila on saturdays.
moreover the blackbirds have flown the pie.
yeah it looks bad on you, klutzy and all
but really you should saw off that shotgun
makes it easier to conceal you know.
however you still look like a mafioso with a bad eye.

now let's go get a drink.


07/05/2016
**********

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"One thing is for sure though. Trouble is trouble, no matter where you are."

--Felix, Felix the Cat: The Movie

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2019

crime scene

Sometimes in the city, along the sides of roads, we come across burnt offerings of incense, and we usually give these sites a slight berth. This is because it is usually the place of an accident, often fatal, and superstitious or not, it is wise not to offend the spirits of the victims. It is usually a Chinese thing.

image by dsnake1 done with Sketchpad 5.1




crime scene


by the side of the road
a lime green pair
of tiny crocs

offerings

oranges
sweets
stumps of burnt candles
a blackened patch of grass

a floral scent of incense
still lingers
in the cold morning air

the rain that fell
last night
should have washed away
the last of the
blood stains
on the black white crossing...



20/11/2010
**********

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midnight
\ \\\\ \\\
only the street lamps casting shadows


-- a haiku by dsnake1

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ), 2019

territory

Do we like to see this world more tolerant, more compassionate? But bigotry, xenophobia, chauvinism, and a host of other -ism masking as self-righteousness are building walls and barriers. And governments are leaning on protectionism and citizen control.

And all this mentality filters down to the man in the street. Only when you run with the wolves will you understand.

photo by ArielleJay at morguefile.com




territory


small talk at beer tables can escalate into big arguments.
the fact that alcohol is involved does not help matters.
just like modern governments, the escalation bit, i mean.
it's not over beer, usually some small islands everyone wants.

they don't shout and wave a smashed beer bottle at people, like us.
they send in a couple of patrol boats or warships, waving guns.

it's a wonder we had lasted so long.
but let's go back to the peasants like us
talking to the fluorescent lights and moon...

a broken beer bottle
intimidates
because
you are not sure
what harm it can do
how the jagged edges
will cut
if a shard will break
and buries in
your guts.
a bearing scrapper
a cleaver
we know what
the steel can do
so
the other day
at the coffeeshop
when the cleaner
accidentally
drops a mug
the sound
of shattering glass
like a gong
in a small room.

we jump
chairs clatter
glance close
glance quick
who the fuck did that?
the poor aunty, cursing
and looking for a broom
and we settle down again
muttering
throw out the ice cubes
pour another glass
call out to the beer lady,
for a couple more bottles
as the drama forgotten
(like those border stand-offs)
and we resume
our drinking
to see who
will be the first one
to drop over
the edge.


written 27/09/2015
revised 21/10/2018
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a strange piece of work. i am afraid to call it a poem.

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Glance close, glance quick, but don’t stare.

*

from “Sovereign Nation” by Jeff Alessandrelli.

This poem was inspired by the lines from the above poem & some bottles of beer. This is a prompt from the Bibliomancy Oracle. It can work in aggressive ways.

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

4 a.m. sunday morning

Written for SingPoWriMo 2016, no eyeballs as you have guessed. The eyeballs are on the pavements somewhere...

photo by harutmovsisyan at pixabay



4 a.m. sunday morning



sometimes nights are like that
awash with shadows
the rain calling your name

the night grumbles and growls
nine floors below
blue red strobe lights, doors slam

the rain is falling, scattering
like silver needles
in the glow of streetlights

voices, muffled by the wind
a woman's plead
shrill, and angry words

take the brawl somewhere nabeh!

or maybe the rain is already
washing the blood
off the cold asphalt.


20/04/2016
**********


I was up at 5 a.m. this morning for a bike ride, and no, the morning wasn't like that. :)

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And if the sky weeps in muffled sobs: Traffic, Walking in the Wind

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

Haiga inspired by a video game

Last year, I wrote a series of haiga inspired by a video game, Grand Theft Auto V, at my other blog. The images were all screen captures from the game using a game console. It was pretty fun doing the project, sometimes the words just popped out, like right on the screen.

If you look beyond the gore, the bad language (the f*** word is in almost every line) and that you are playing the roles of 3 very psychopathic "heroes", it is a very good game. Perhaps you do not understand what I am talking? Never mind. Enjoy the haiga. ☮



haiga inspired by a video game

the flies have left
the blood has dried on the linoleum

thunderhead over rooftops -
my heart
heavy again.

the end
of another day.
a million murmurs

on the wind your name

shuffling feet
the night shift clocks in





__________ ☢ __________

Click on the image for a larger view.
If you want to see the whole nine yards (12 haiga) click here.


All images by dsnake1 generated by a game console using a game disc and edited by PaintShop Pro software.

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"I'm still alive, in case you're wondering."
-- Michael de Santa, one of the protagonist in the game


Grand Theft Auto V is a copyrighted video game developed and published by Rockstar Games.

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

dove and snake

Life's not fair but we move on...

photo by bm cm ath
image from morguefile.com




dove and snake




look
people pissed you off
i know

a truck
backfiring
startles we learned that from
the jungles
and wadis

you can
shoot snow
into your veins do we care?
but why
let them win?

no reason
to
make the evening's headlines
or
whatever

it's not
like russian roulette you hold
the ace



06/10/2015
**********

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Do you relate more to the dove or to the snake?

*

from “Form” by Louise Mathias


I was inspired by the lines from the above poem (and a rather moody day). This is a prompt from the Bibliomancy Oracle. It can work in sullen ways.

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2015