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
**********
qingming

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BAND-MAID - about us

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

9:10 (what if)

9 is supposed to be forever, but it isn't.

photo by dsnake1



9:10 (what if)


And I turned my head and there she was.

The winter rain , like cigarette ash dropping from lamplights.

Can you count all the colours in a sunrise?

All the road signs, none pointing you the way.

Just a damn simple job and you screwed it.

Think of a million excuses but none will stick.

The winter roads, bare trees all, look the same.

My world has turned a shade of battleship grey.

Cigarette butts trapped in pools of water beside me.

I turn my head expecting her and she wasn't.



written : 04/02/2023
revised : 30/10/2024
**********************


If you have noticed, there are exactly 9 words in each of the 10 lines. What are the numbers supposed to mean? A significant point in time? September? Eternity?

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Elton John - Your Song

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

what are you doing tonight?

The night seems long, and there is no place to go.

photo of a Kyoto street by dsnake1



what are you doing tonight?


the half eaten dinner
is still in the styrofoam box
on the table

perhaps the rice is too sticky
maybe the cook had a bad day
like me

stub out the nth cigarette
sitting in the darkness listening
for a heartbeat

the blue curaco in a tall glass
with borzoi vodka and ice cubes
cools nerves

i light incense to her at the altar
call out her name, see the smoke
like farewells

i clean the dust and oil off
the gas hobs, as she had done
so many years

until the cold steel shines
and my sobs tremble and echo in
the silence

sitting in the quiet dark again
trying to figure out how the years
were wasted.

you will figure out surely
what you are doing tonight
the night answers

then i fire up the power amp
slip a disc into the player
sit back

and wait for Mark Knopfler
and his guitar to take us
to nirvana.


written lovingly 15/09/2007
revised slightly 23/08/2021
********************

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Dire Straits - On Every Street

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2024

September

She used to wear an anchor pendant on her necklace. Perhaps this is the one thing that is weighing me down.

There was once a prompt at Poets and Storytellers United to write about October. Sorry, my poem is about September.

photo by dsnake1



September


September seems like a meteor dropping from the sky,
once bright, then gone.

Like you too.

Remember we stand at the parapets of our block,
smoking cigarettes, bitching
about money and our jobs,
you a seamstress, me an odd-job labourer?

Life gets better.

But then you are gone, those memories hang
like van Goghs on my dusty wall.
Starry nights, irises, sunflowers,
cafes, tears and labour.
But I am too afraid
to follow you and so I linger
and I sit in dark corners
and wait for

September.



written 26/09/2023
revised 28/09/2023
****************

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"what matters is that I still have
after all that has preceded
poems left
me left
and these walls that I have always
loved
in all the cities and in all the
places I have lived, these walls are still here and
my radio plays,..."

Charles Bukowski, luck from a kitchen

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2024

somewhere, redux

Maybe she is having a better, happier life now...

image by Aurel_Cham at pixabay



somewhere, redux


it's been twenty-eight years
you should have been
re-incarnated
and
if you did
you could be
a mother
by now

and if i walk past you
somewhere in a street
in Redhill
or
Tampines
would i still
recognise
you?

and perhaps i will,
or maybe not
but if i see
that walk
those
swaying hips
in that mall
or park
that voice
that laughter

and if our eyes should meet
in that split
moment in time
you
will understand
those trembling
lips
those brimming tears
in my eyes.


20/04/2022
**********


The prompt at Poets and Storytellers United is to write about "the last time you had a good laugh or cry"

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"I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever."

― Rabindranath Tagore, Selected Poems

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023

on this day

fairy tales have sad endings too.

photo by Nikita Tikhomirov at Unsplash


on this day


on this day
we would be drinking
of course
her cocktails
my cheap beer
maybe even pub crawl
throw some darts
bath in bright sexy neon
sing the birthday song again
and later
grab a burger
at MacDonald's
light our cigarettes
blowing smoke rings
into the frosty night
then to a 7-11
for more beer
my hands on her
slim waist
whispering into her ears
and she would giggle
her girlish giggle
the street lights
shine a little brighter
and we would wish
the night would not end.

but city tales
have a way
of turning nasty
and so
her birthdays ended
too soon.


undated probably early 2000's
revised 06/07/2021
***************

Rosemary at Poets & Storytellers United would like us to write about "darkness and light". Perhaps this piece can qualify?

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Versailles - DESTINY -THE LOVERS-

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

ten years

"a mynah lands on the
aircon unit outside.
looks at me
perhaps to ride the rain
perhaps to see me weep."

- dsnake1, teddy bear

photo by Amy_Z at pixabay



ten years


ten years?
you left me
carrying the memories
not even a goodbye?
but such courage
kicked fear in the face.
once, just once
you cried
WHY ME?
the tears down your cheeks
big as pearls
such grace
the tears on your eyelashes
dew on a cold morning.

ten years already?
seems like not long ago
in that hospital room
holding hands
waiting for your chemo
but now i am touching
the marble slab
at your grave
tracing your name
no, smoothing what hair
that is left
as my tears now
big as pearls
such helplessness
as i once held
your frail hands.


written : 28/01/2004
revised : 28/01/2023
*****************

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Reina del Cid - Wish You Were Here (Pink Floyd cover)

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023

how deep is

"if you imagine us scurrying down to the
tunnels, each of us is an apparition"

dsnake1, the night sticks like wet petals

artwork by Saydung89 at pixabay



how deep is


how deep is
   your love?
down in the
subway tunnels
on late nights
   some nights
aimless rides
the tunnel walls
just inches
from my face
flashing by
our lives
on a reel
of memory
sliding by
till it all ends
on a bleak night
and here i am
all alone
   in the
rumbling wombs
of the trains
   that song
playing again
on the tracks
how deep is
   your love?
till i resurface
to the neon
drenched streets
to the city lights
           starlight



written 21/04/2012
revised 10/07/2012
****************

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"the train doors close
like a breath exhaling"

dsnake1, and all i see are wet petals on asphalt

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2022

longing

Losing someone you loved dearly will break your heart, but they will live always in that broken heart.

pencil sketch by dsnake1


longing


We were night owls. We worked hard, partied hard after dark. We pub crawled, we drank. We loved the booming bass lines of live bands, the husky, sultry serenades of sexy songbirds. We loved bright shirts, loud colours, and sometimes we weren't sure which smell was stronger on our polyester, the cologne or the alcohol.

But above all, above us, we loved watching the stars. I tried to tell her that stars are just balls of fire, tried to explain to her about light years and the doppler effect and such. It's not very romantic. And she just smiled. To her, the stars are just jewels in the sky, mysteries not to be solved. So I just tried to point out to her, the Dog Star, the Big Dipper, and the stories behind the names, with what limited knowledge of the stars that I had. We would sit at the breakwaters, the piers, at the esplanade, the beaches, or the benches of city parks, looking up, sometimes her head on my shoulders.

But no more. She passed on, you see, a star herself, snuffed out. Is there a star less then? I can't tell, there are too many. Maybe the stars mirror us. A star extinguishes, someone loses a loved one. Maybe there are other star-crossed lovers like us, over the dark expanses, looking up at their night skies. Maybe there are wars being fought out there. Maybe the light I saw, was us a lifetime before.

if i could pluck the stars
put them in a jar
will you come back to me?


11/04/2013
**********

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Drop's - 月光 [moonlight]

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

come home, we will enjoy the spring

Come home.
This year, we’ll enjoy the spring.

*

from “Rows of Small Mountains” by Li Qingzhao (translated by Wendy Chen)

I was inspired by the lines from the above poem (and some intense longing). This is a prompt from the Bibliomancy Oracle. It can work in tender ways.

photo by Han Chenxu from Unsplash



come home, we will enjoy the spring


on new year's day
i switch on all
the lights in the house
because the new year
will be much brighter
like this, or so
the ancients said.

i try my best but there is still so much dust on the window grills, i do not have your eye for details.

this year, we will enjoy the spring.
i have some flowers
in the old vase
there is beer in the fridge
and oranges and cola
and some prawns and greens
which i may or may not cook

i try my best but i am getting old, my memory misses a step and i wonder about that teardrop on my cheek.

come home, come home,
we will enjoy the spring.
we will switch on the lights
we will knock off the beer
we will eat the food i cooked
we will hug and love and live
like the old days


08/09/2019
**********

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Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here (Acoustic Cover by MonaLisa Twins)

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2022

such

the seven sisters, they shine so brightly
oh, but look again, one is still shy.

pen & water colour sketch by dsnake1



such


such is the void i wander
shaking with grief on cold nights
shards still pierce the heart lightly
sweet persimmons thick with ash
softly sits on her altar
summer's gone with her passing
she takes her place in the stars.


12/11/2021
**********

Shared on Friday Writings #4, where the prompt was to write about pain, psychological or physical.

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Pleiades is a poetic form invented in 1999 by Craig Tigerman.

There is only one word allowed in the title.
The poem is followed by a single seven-line stanza.
The first word in each line begins with the same letter as the title.
There is an added requirement of restricting the line length to six syllables, but that is optional. In my poem, I used seven syllables in each stanza

The Pleiades is a star cluster in the constellation Taurus. The ancients named these stars the seven sisters: Alcyone, Asterope, Celaeno, Electra, Maia, Merope, and Tygeta.

The poetic form The Pleiades is aptly named: the seven lines can be said to represent the seven sisters, and the six syllables represent the nearly invisible nature of one sister.

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

the portrait from your grave

"i can escape the rain
but i cannot hide from the day's light

when the night falls
i long for the return of day."

- Hwang Jin-i

Hwang Jin-i, or Hwang Jin-Yi (Korean: 황진이; c. 1506 – c. 1560), was one of the most famous courtesans of the Joseon dynasty. She was noted for her beauty, intellect and quick wit. She was acclaimed for the sijo she wrote, but not much of her pieces existed today.

pencil sketch (enhanced with Snapseed) by dsnake1


the portrait from your grave


i duck into the mall
to escape the day's sudden rain

i cannot count the times i wander thus
like a fog breaking at sea

the smile from a poster in the mall
the same as the portrait from your grave.


aug 2021
********

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SiM - Same Sky


Linked to : Writer's Pantry #90 and

                 Paint Party Friday: Week 29. Year 11

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

poetry lesson #9

"THE ONLY WAR THAT MATTERS IS THE WAR AGAINST THE IMAGINATION"
Diane di Prima - "Rant" (Revolutionary Letters, 1971)

pencil sketch by dsnake1



poetry lesson #9
() on matters of poetry



two colleagues had a fist fight the other day.
and then amicably went out for coffee together.

there is a word for that, mixed martial arts.

i thought i saw you in a bus the other day.
that girl must be spooked, the way i looked.

there are no ghosts in the day, i am told.

i see a darting dragonfly in the rushes today.
it is a helicopter in vietnam in a past life.

how can you explain the way it skims the waters?

there are dirty dishes in the sink to wash.
and after that i will really think of poetry.

the baby cries, is she thinking of poetry too?

there is no reason why you cannot write.
why you couldn't at least freaking try.

afraid people laugh at your poetry? read mine!



22/03/2021
**********

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SiM -- The Sound of Breath

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

cards (happy birthday, love)

to look into you and see eternity.
-- dsnake1

pencil sketch by dsnake1 from a card's design




cards (happy birthday, love)


you ask
why do i still
keep these cards?
all these years
in a cardboard box
dusty among the books
on the shelves
the sunshine
seldom kisses
and sometimes i
take them out
touch the paper
run my fingers over
the indentations
her neat handwriting
heart in
every line & letter
each card
a different year
but always
the same message

happy birthday, love.

i ask
can i forget then?
these are the songs
i will not
hear again
her voices
her joy
that there will be
no more words
since
that night
the night
swallow up the stars



19/03/2014
**********

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Accept - Kill The Pain

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

50

is it that long already?

photo by Karen Zhao at Unsplash


50


you could be with me today
but i am all by myself
in the train
watching little squares of glass
coloured paint
of apartment blocks
tessellated
rushing by
and the evening sky
threatening to weep.

we could be in a restaurant today
maybe not a fancy one
but nevertheless one
we wanted to try
because i can afford it now
and a couple of
working class beers of course.

but now i am all by
myself
in the train
with anonymous faces
with the sad masses
going home
their rush hour hands
pushing at my shoulders.

and coming out of the tunnels
i wanted to call your name
but the words
the words
they never come
because

the evening sky
had started to turn grey
and
about to weep.


written 21/09/2010
revised 21/09/2018
****************

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Pink Floyd - Time

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

poetry lesson #4

The broken heart is there but still the words would not come...

pencil sketch by dsnake1


poetry lesson #4


the humid air hangs with
                 distractions
how to write a poem now
                 any poem.
and there are other nudges.
why, i just made my video hitman
drove all over the seedy town
then to take out a mob boss,
it was messy but the job was done.
             and i just realised
all my rock heroes
are now dead or old men,
their beards fashionable
             but grey,
and now the guitars have
             been passed to
five pretty Japanese girls
in maid outfits
to save rock.
it's sick!

and that poem
is still nowhere around
so i poured myself
a glass of wine (yes, wine now)
and send my hitman out again
to look for UFO parts.

and that poem?
the lady vocalist in
the youtube video
her gestures, her face,
                  her moles
reminds me of someone
i missed dearly.
i hit the replay button,
i feel like crying

and so
the poem will wait.


16/09/2020
**********

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BAND-MAID - Wonderland

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

candles

some things, we don't forget.

colour pencil sketch by dsnake1



candles


we lit candles
on birthdays

drank wine
kissed lips

night walks
star maps

now i bring wine
to your altar

trying to smile
wiping tears

telling you
how i am coping

as i light candles
on your anniversaries


written     :   20/06/2015
expanded :   27/10/2020
********************

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BAND-MAID - Endless Story

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020

persimmons

“We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.”
― Sylvia Plath

Photo by Carl Attard from Pexels


persimmons


at your altar
i wipe the ashes
off the persimmons
that i bought
early last week.
they are still red.

today i take down
the persimmons
gently wash them
(as you would)
cut and eat them.
they are still sweet.


01/11/2018
**********

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Ellie Goulding - How Long Will I Love You

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

freeze frame

Some moments they tag along with you in your memories, and sometimes tug gently at your heart...

photo by Anemone123 at pixabay



freeze frame



when is a second an eternity?
and the pain a freeze frame?
the heart bleeds
                   razor blades
the lights of the city
hides their faces and fades
i
see this frame
over and over again
so many years
she sits here on the floor
the cold ceramic tiles
shadows cross every room
she has been brave
she is brave
but now her tears
big as pearls
rolling down
          down
her quivering cheeks
of the thousands of people
at the hospital that day
she asks
WHY MUST IT HAVE TO BE ME?!

and then
there are no more shadows in the rooms
as the darkness
creeps in
and
devours us.


28/09/2018
**********

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The Strawbs - The Flower and the Young Man

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

thank you for your love

if only we could just relive those moments...

photo by JessicaGale at morguefile.com



thank you for your love


it was andy lau on the hi-fi.
his mandarin was awful, i said.
he should stick to cantonese.
she was in the kitchen
slicing some mangos
deshelling some prawns
to go with the vodka
and blue curaco
that i have poured.
but the song's nice, she said.
beautiful love song.

and then we lit our cigarettes
ate our mangos and prawns
stood at our apartment window
lifted our glasses
of blue poison
to the golden sunset
that was spreading
into our house
and all the while
andy lau was on the hi-fi
singing about love.


23/12/2008
**********

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"Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold"

-- Zelda Fitzgerald


She loved this song. I liked it too. We used to kill it on the karaoke :
谢谢你的爱 / Thank You for Your Love

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2017