Please

Please aim all kicks at the ground.
Address all blows to the air.
We are to be barely mentioned if at all in the moon’s memoirs.

*

from “Ledgelife” by Bill Knott

This is a prompt from the Bibliomamcy Oracle. It can work in frustrating ways.

photo by dsnake1



please


please, let us not talk about
what the numbers we should have
scratched on the betting slip
how the other plans didn't pan out
if there are plans in the first place.
just be glad that we are
still drinking beer
and binge surfing tv
on 31st december



31/12/2024
**********

photo by dsnake1

---

Rod Stewart - Auld Lang Syne

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

the pigeon minding its business

There is an informal understanding that we will ignore each other...

photo by dsnake1



the pigeon minding its business


the pigeon quietly waddles away
when I step on the sidewalk.
it is just minding its own business.
it does not want to look at me.
it is wary,
that i may wring its neck
or wrap a cable tie around its leg.

i will not do that of course.
i am too minding my own business.
i am just thinking of
what numbers to buy
for tonight's $10 million TOTO draw.
it will think of food, not numbers.
i will think of numbers, and food.

i reach for a betting slip, and hope.
it pecks at a grain of rice in the grass.



12/06/2024
**********


TOTO is a lot like Lotto. You know, the lottery. :)

---

"Do you ever ask your goldfish for their views on goldfish poetry or politics. Does a termite thinks that a woman's place is in the house? Do beavers prefer blondes or brunettes?"

-- Robert Heinlein, Goldfish Bowl

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2024

black sheep

Numb with disbelief, sometimes.

image from morguefile.com



black sheep




i am a sheep
i whine
i fear when
         the next meal
             will not come
i really dread
         the sky falling
             clouds and all
i could not
         use it like
             a blanket
             anymore
i may not
         pick myself up
             from a fall
i see my
         tired feet
             slouching on
             dry asphalt
and i am
mumbling what costs have skyrocketed
but who listens?
who understands?
and when we had the chance at the poll booths

we threw it all away.


29/07/2016
**********

---

“Nothing strengthens authority so much as silence.”

― Leonardo da Vinci


Chao Chuan [ 趙傳 ] - I'm a Small, Little Bird [我是一隻小小鳥]

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020

daze

If there is a word to describe my 2023, it is "daze". Most of the months moved by like a haze, dysfunctional after boring months. Troubled by a rogue thyroid, lost weight, lost direction, time consumed by social media, most days is a snafu.

Then a stay of a month and a half in Amsterdam and the Netherlands somehow brought back some order. Ah, Amsterdam, the city of canals and bridges, bicycles and cyclists, cannabis and museums. The city woke me up to the beauty, and ugliness of this world.

From there, I followed the routes that Vincent van Gogh took in the village of Nuenen, where he stayed for some months at his mother's house, where he painted the watermills, windmills and people. Later I will visit the new, sleek museum in Amsterdam where most of his paintings are.

I made trips to the battlegrounds of World War 2, to Arnhem, to Groesbeek and Nijmegen, to look at mangled pieces of metal, to Anne Frank's house in Amsterdam, where a teenage girl just wanted to live a normal life, to try to understand the inhumanity of man to man.

I underestimated the cold in Amsterdam during November/December, coming from the tropics, and had to get extra warm clothing. I saw the homeless sleeping on the sidewalks, underpasses, and understand how cold they must have felt.

On the day I was leaving for home, at the airport, I saw heavily armed police and military personnel around. Discreet, yet visible, they are there because of a terrorist threat. There is more or less the same presence when I landed. The world has changed, and has not changed much.



01/01/2024
**********

from a wall mural in Amsterdam, Netherlands
photo by dsnake1



daze


"I will do it today."
"Tomorrow, it will be done."

And so, another year passes...


01/01/2024
**********

---

We do not cherish the hours until we worry about the nanoseconds. - dsnake1

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2024

blursday

Blursday : n. a day of the week that is indistinguishable from any other.

I am sure the word was a prompt from one of the issues of Poets & Storytellers United. Just can't remember which date.

digital montage by dsnake1 with GIMP



blursday (7th apr to 1st june 2020)


1.
Thank god the internet is alive and well.
And Netflix.

The social media videos start to arrive.
They hiss like little forked tongues.

7.
The rebels arrive. A man with full body tattoos striped down to his underwear and strutted around the town neighbourhood waving his pants. Cops tried to tackle him. They had a hard time bringing him down. He was a good rugby player.

11.
spring cleaning -
our little histories.

17.
A nice dinner of stir fried cabbage with dried shrimps and fried pork collar with chillies helps a ton. Everybody loves it.

20.
More social videos : elderly lady is unleashing a whole range of vulgarities at two cops when confronted for not wearing a mask. The two cops are hesitant to tackle the lady. They know the internet is watching. Eagerly watching.

Some people are slipping into a rabbit hole.

22.
Thank god for youtube. There's a Japanese all-girl rock band that's driving the internet (and me) crazy.

23.
cherry blossoms -
looking at my photographs
of Japan

24.
Two blackbirds perch on my air-con unit and debate the pandemic.

25.
rain
///
the silence
in the house

27.
Tried fried udon with minced meat and everybody loves it.
Home-cooked pasta with meat sauce and everybody loves it.
Perhaps i can think about a career change.

28.
A dinner of yam rice with chinese sausages. Very basic.
But everybody loves it
Hmm, about that career change...

35.
overcast skies -
looking at your old photographs
                          again

40.
another morning
counting the meds
counting the videos

43.
nicked finger -

red fish gills
in a white sink

47.
a scent of lilac your floral blouse

50?
Home stretch.
Start counting the number of brands of beer i have drunk. Give up after the 11th and start rummaging in the fridge for one. Any brand.

56.
The end of blursdays
What day is today?

The family wants me to cook dinner.

(@.@)


318 words


written in response to a prompt
revised 06/12/2022
revised 02/07/2023
***************

---

BAND-MAID - Daydreaming

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023

every morning the sun looks in (#2)

in limbo in the city, and in grief...

photo by dsnake1



every morning the sun looks in (#2)


Every morning the sun looks in with the gaze of a bored child.
The dust on the linoleum is thick but what is another million motes?

I am just waiting for that grenade to roll across that linoleum floor.
It's not that we like to argue but the words are lost in translation.

But now I would give anything to hear us argue again, no translations.
You say I am handsome in a dumb way and is probably not a virgin.

You are beautiful in a dumb way, the way you look into the future.
Everyone said you are a Japanese but the only word you know is sayonara.

Kyoto, sakura, Harajku, but the only word I said to you is sayonara.
Anything that occured on this planet, passes us by, the planet crying.

They say the Paris Peace Talks stalled, but the planet is nonchalant.
I watch young kids grow up into gangsters but you didn't watch with me.

Remember that kid yelling, fuck!, and you go to him with a pair of scissors?
Every morning the sun looks in with the gaze of a bored child.



21/04/2023
**********



This form is called a duplex poem. It is a combination of the sonnet, the ghazal and the blues. It has 14 lines, arranged in couplets, in which the first line of the couplet repeats words and phrases from the previous line. For the last couplet, the last line repeats the very first line.

---

A Perfect Circle - Eat The Elephant

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023

sorta like a rope

Ennui. Dead end. Nothing to look forward to...

photo by dsnake1



sorta like a rope


today the sun comes out
but it's not burning
you try to ignore the sun
and the clock alarm too

you see this dead bird
rotting by the wayside trees
one good life gone, once skies,
now a home for maggots & flies.

you sit at the coffee shop
trying to sip your tea
the other old guys there
are scratching on betting slips

who knows, who knows your life
might change the next day
people begging you for handouts
or you just tear that slip away

you see this old geezer
trying to feed a stray cat
but the stray claws him
maybe it remembers something

the dark roads intersect at night
street lights shine no brighter
than the stars in the sky
somewhere in the distance drones

a siren



15/03/2023
**********


"sorta like a rope looking for a tree to finish the job." - ZQ
The title comes from a comment from ZQ, one of the readers of this blog.

---

Madonna - Frozen

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023

a perfect day

"I lit another cigarette and wondered distantly how I would get through the day. It was a problem demanding some ingenuity.”
― Iris Murdoch, A Severed Head

photo by Karen Powers at Unsplash



a perfect day


i am looking
at the window grills
the clothes hangers
                 hanging there
on the dusty metal
like big question marks.
and outside,
the sanitation workers
are banging the trash bins
           and dumpsters
around the dump truck
they are shouting in a
           rapid-fire language
like directing fire in a war.
i do not understand
i feel a migraine coming
i could need a nap
i lay on the bed
looking at the ceiling
               the ceiling looks
               back at me
               and smirks.



22/02/2022
**********

---

BAND-MAID - Real Existence

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2022

Dear 2021

It was the train pulling out of the station, and no one was waving...

- dsnake1, a few days to the new year

digital montage by dsnake1



Dear 2021


Dear 2021

I know, it is the beginning of the year, but you sure know how to grab our attention. The world, and especially America, looks on with disbelief, as its own people storms the Capitol, trying to overturn an election result.

Then, as another joke, a large container ship runs aground and obstructs the Suez canal, disrupting global trade. We can never forget the image of a little digger trying to free the behemoth from the banks.

The Summer Olympics finally gets going, one year later, and as a cyclist, I watch all the cycling events and was touched by the enthusiastic Japanese people along the route cheering the competitors on. Also, American gymnast Simone Biles taught us it's alright if we don't feel right.

The USA exits Afghanistan after 20 years of war, and people are pointing the fingers to the memory of Vietnam. For a kid who lost a dad early in the war, the kid is probably all grown up now, and wondering if the servicemen, and the trillions of dollars, can be put to better use.

You let billionaires go to space for joyrides and and turn a blind eye to disinformation, as it continues to fool people on social media, where governments are also waging a relentless propaganda war.

It seems like nothing happened, COVID-19 continues to hog the news, and yet we continue to be touched, angered, perplexed and entertained by the year's events.

You will not walk out with a hobble. You will walk, maybe hunched, but walk. And let us all hold our hands, forget our differences of opinions, and wish for a normal return to life from the pandemic. And a true yearning for a return to peace.


Sincerely

Lee San


18/12/2021
**********

Magaly at Friday Writings told us to write a “Dear 2021” open letter, in verse or in prose. So this is it. It is a very hurried write. Wish I have some time to polish it. :)

291 words

---

U2 - Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

a good day but still cranky

“I grabbed a pile of dust, and holding it up, foolishly asked for as many birthdays as the grains of dust, I forgot to ask that they be years of youth.”

― Ovid, Metamorphoses

photo by dsnake1


a good day but still cranky


trust that the sun will rise
that time is on my mind
how do you define a second then
when it is gone faster than my heartbeat?

trust that my head will clear
rages must wait another day
i am trying to type poems on the keyboard
and the bowl of noodles awaits.


27/11/2021
**********

photo by dsnake1


I had a good birthday recently. The kid brought me out for food, even bought me a toy. I reminded myself to be kind that day, be patient, do not pick fights with people. I even managed to write some poetry. This poem.

Shared at Friday Writings #6

---

Heavy Metal Kids - It's The Same

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

the world passes us by

though i may not say it...

photo by Alexas_Fotos at pixabay



the world passes us by


this is my wife
see how she has aged
in two years

today
i see her
shoulders hunched
over the washing machine
hauling wet clothes
into the spinner

it was not like this
she used to be
so confident
so assured

now perhaps
we worry about things
like rent, or food
she sees that pretty dress
in the window display
and she walks away

or she sees me
rushing off to do
some meaningless jobs
missing my breakfast
mumbling at trains, buses

she scans the job ads
or calls a friend

today i haul the clothes
into the washing machine
she sleeps
she is tired
the world passes us by
as the machine spins.


25/05/2021
**********

Shared at Friday Writings #5.

---

Walk In Darkness - Bent by Storms and Dreams

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

an oasis in a desert of ennui

pick an ace, man, pick an ace...

photo by mrganso  at pixabay



an oasis in a desert of ennui


as i am sitting in this bar waiting for the world to end
a gecko is crawling on the opposite wall
checking out the posters of happy people drinking beer.

if you are thinking of pretty girls look for another joint
there are just us, a dozen or so of ugly slobs
that people want to punch and cops like to pull in.

there's really nothing much we can do, a desert of ennui
lift some bottles, light a fag, people die in wars
and accidents and that gecko would still be on the wall.

the bar-keep stares at me, looks at my army crew cut,
goes pour himself a drink, he probably
has a parang under the counter to ward off evil.

i stub out the cigarette, drink the last of the beer,
the last bus to my camp is due soon, can't miss it,
though the bus-stop is conveniently outside

i wave a salute to the barkeep, the fucker smiles,
as i push out the old-west saloon doors,
and walk out to a loud, unforgiving night.


07/01/2021
**********

---

Pink Floyd - Have A Cigar

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

R.O.D.

That was a really long time ago, but it seems like it was only yesterday...

photo by yapo-zhou at Unsplash



R.O.D.


just a tired wave to the guard at the gate,
no words, not one needed
those days of running in the sun, humping hills,
cold rain in dark jungles
half forgotten, gruff sergeants, muddy tracks,
sweat, curses and comrades'
faces and names i thought i really remembered,
goodbye godforsaken camp!

their bitching still clear, in hokkien, mangled
english, honest, unapologetic,
fuck the army, as the sergeant screamed of big
elephants in rifle barrels,
and now on this bus ride home to a change of clothes
from fatigues to polyester
the sounds and smells of the streets vaguely familiar
like home to an old place.


06/06/2021
**********


The title refers to the last day of conscription service, when you return to civilian life. On that day, some laugh, some cry, some spit, some are indifferent. I am not sure what's the acronym these days.

Posting this on the eve of our National Day.

---

Roger Waters - The Gunner's Dream

Shared at Writers' Pantry #82 at Poets and Storytellers United.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

these are days

some days, an elephant sits on you...

photo by Maike und Bjorn Brõskamp at pixabay



these are days


in the news feed today the coronavirus had taken
a couple more of thousand lives

other countries seem far away, their names distant
and hard to pronounce

a crow looks at you from the top of a lamp post
cawing with mad laughter

we walk into days like this, like a trap-door
sprung, soaking with sweat

a guy calls at you from across the street and says
hi but your name is not johnny

looks like the morning you are looking for has
gone to the Colosseum with the lions

a garbage truck thunders past its vile breath
dusting you at the bus stop

the stray cat on the floor opens one eye and looks
at you, and closes it again.


written : 27/03/21
revised : 14/05/21
***************

---

Drop's - Tシャツと涙 (T-shirt and Tears)

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

on his retirement

They told me to give a speech during my retirement party. I said, "you guys didn't read my e-mail meh?"

photo by hotblack at morguefile



on his retirement



"Speech! Speech!", we ask.
He is holding his mug like a trophy.
He nods his head. He is silent.
For all his forty years
In the office
He could not think of anything
About his work to say.

An awkward cough! Applause
Ripple to nothingness.
The office walls close in.
We quickly spread out
The curry puffs,
Fried chicken, kueh and drinks.
"Eat! Eat!" we say.



12/07/2019
**********

---

Emerson Lake and Palmer - Lucky Man

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2019

every morning the sun looks in

in limbo in the city...

photo by dsnake1



every morning the sun looks in


Every morning the sun looks in with the gaze of a bored child.
Today, a white cloud, with a face of Jesus, floats past the window.

Every second that passes makes me wiser, not necessarily older.
My poems are buried in my pc, they have served their purpose.

Today, a white cloud, with a face of Che, floats past the window.
Disinterested pigeons waddle past on the sidewalk, fat and mean.

My poems died in scraps of paper, they have served their purpose.
The neighbours do not talk much, just smile, we have our secrets.

Disgruntled pigeons waddle past on the sidewalk, fat and free.
The mound of cigarette butts in the ashtray starts to smolder.

The neighbours do not talk much, some smile, we have our secrets.
A blind musician sits on the worn stairs, plucking guitar strings.

The mound of cigarette butts in the ashtray starts to sputter.
At 7 p.m.a police cruiser slides by quietly past the 7-11.

A lady in yoga tights walks her pit bull down the worn stairs.
Late day shadows are darker, who may be hiding in them?

At 8 p.m. a police cruiser slides by quietly past the laundromat.
Late day shadows are darker, what may be hiding in them?

Every second that passes makes me wiser, not merely older.
Every morning the sun looks in with the gaze of a bored child.


18/01/2019
**********

---

“What's in store for me in the direction I don't take?”

― Jack Kerouac

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2019

a few days to the new year

It was the train pulling out of the station, and no one was waving...

photo by geralt at pixabay



a few days to the new year


resolutions are meaningless
if it's all talk
the rustle of plastic
as we tear away
a packaging
the popping of bubble wrap
on idle days

why cynicism then
biting like acid
on flesh?

this bile bitter
as the beast
in the desert?

then a step
a step a day
the sun rises
the sun will set

will the year then be
the green leaf on the bough
catching the sunlight
or the brown dying one
dropping to the asphalt
to be swept and buried
in a dark drain?


26/12/2011
**********

an old, unpublished, angry poem brooding in my journals. Ditch the anger, have a safe and happy 2019, friends!

---

Facing West - Auld Lang Syne

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

who moved my fries?

From my SingPoWriMo archives. Yes, no eyeballs at my other blog.

When you are trying to write poetry but got terribly distracted...

illustration by cd20 at pixabay


who moved my fries?


and here i am sitting in a cafe
goofing-off
with the other unhappy, loathsome
loafers
perhaps all in need of some help
with their time
watching the ice in that cup of coke
dying off
and trying to nurse that packet of fries
oh shit
so i feel like a stalker watching those
happy kids with their happy meals
those boys and girls from the nearby school
dating
on the pretext of studying biology
oh you can't fool me on that
and why the heck was i here?
oh yes, trying to write a poem like this
because this is the month of april
maybe if i am lucky i can wring some verses
from this joint
but mainly it is because of the
free wi-fi

but damn, the fries are moving fast
it will not last till evening.



written          : 01/04/2016
lightly edited : 11/11/2018
**********************

Took out all the f words. Maybe I shouldn't. Getting soft.

---

And, to get back to the world after this, listen to the poetry of Graham Nash - I Used To Be A King

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

do i really care

Apathy. Maybe that was the plan.

photo by dsnake1



do i really care


do i really care
today
as i pack a lunch
from the coffee shop
in a styrofoam box some rice
and meat dripping with grease,
the stall helper bored,
working 12 hour shifts.
maybe i will watch the parade
on tv later
raise a can of beer
to the guys standing in the sun
anyway it's all the same these years,
some songs
politicians waving
smiling
a show
of military strength
but there's an ache in the chest
that i cannot put a pulse to

because

you go out in the streets
in the sun and rain you see
the elderly collect used cardboard
& empty cans for a meal.

would they care for the flypast, the fighter jets?
the choppers, the tanks, the feu de joie?
they laugh and curse and wait for another day

and only when the national anthem comes up
do i try to hold back the tears.



written 09/08/2016
revised 06/10/2018
****************

---

Julia Westlin - The Sound of Silence (acapella) [ original song by Simon & Garfunkel ]

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

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
****************


a strange piece of work. i am afraid to call it a poem.

---

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.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018