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?

---

Elton John - Your Song

---

© 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

---

© 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
****************

---

"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

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

---

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

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023

when the night seems long

Rommy at Poets and Storytellers United invite us to write a piece inspired by a song lyric, and to include the song title.

"Live alone in a paradise, that makes me think of two" from Neil Young's song "Old Man". 😧

image by CDD20 at pixabay



when the night seems long


when the night seems long
and uncomfortable
and the questions
have no answers
is it supposed to be like this?
how do you deal with death?
tell it to wait, take a break?
tell it not to take her away?
old man,
he wakes up in the early dawn
crying
         looking
for ghosts under the bed.
he hears her songs
drifting with the wind
he looks for
her old cassettes
her favourite songs
just to hold in his hands
his eyesight is failing
his hands are shaking
he is the tossed coin
rolling into a gutter
he looks into the mirror
and sees another man.
an older man
he does not know.

and gently
dawn's light puts its hands
on his shoulders
and tousles his hair.


21/06/2022
**********

---

Neil Young - Old Man

---

© 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]

---

© 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
********

---

SiM - Same Sky


Linked to : Writer's Pantry #90 and

                 Paint Party Friday: Week 29. Year 11

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

if time could stand still

Time is a ruthless herder.

photo by Dariusz Sankowski at pixabay



if time could stand still



if time could stand still
just for a while, for us
in a fine restaurant
sipping champagne
a name we could not
pronounce
and later
hand in hand
at the esplanade
the waves gently
slapping breakwaters
we are
looking for falling stars
hidden in the
warm glow of moonlight

but time
is a ruthless herder
it makes no compromises
heeds no pleas

and so
it is not to be.



28/09/2013
07/11/2013
**********

---

“It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.”

― John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent

---

© 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

---

© 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
****************

---

Pink Floyd - Time

---

© 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

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020

without you

Love can have a leaf of madness.

photo by andrewhaimerl at pixabay

the garish fluorescence
screaming in bursts of neon
offers no comfort to

he sees colours
in shades of metal grey
he was just looking for

food to calm his hunger
maybe a beer
and then move on.

the night is acrimonious
angry, the tables greasy
who can dine on such

a patchwork of spilt coffee
dried gravy, cigarette scarred tops
the chatter of the diners

becomes a taunt.
if you will just so look
me in the eyes

i would stick this bayonet
in your innards
it was that angry

without you.



Feb 1994
********

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Dire Straits - On Every Street

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020

my father's clothes

there is always a strange silence at wakes.

photo by kytalpa at pixabay



my father's clothes



and i wonder if his work clothes
his heavy cotton jackets
                        slacks
                        boots
will ever miss his hammers
                        saws
                        and nails
and the sawdust lodged in the hems.

and there at his funeral, his wake
laid out on a wooden chair
in front of his coffin
         a white long-sleeve shirt
         a blue tie with stripes
         a grey pair of slacks, slightly frayed
         and a pair of black dress shoes, polished
a combination he seldom wear in his life.

how do you explain death to the clothes?
how to tell them how much we loved him?
that he is not going to come back to us anymore?
and as we, his children
sat around a table folding
paper gold and silver ingots
to ease his passage to the afterlife

his cloths sat still and silent
under the fluorescent lights
and the flicker of candles.


31/03/2019
**********

Written for the Golden Point Awards 2019 poetry competition. Never got around to submit it.

---

"and a light
from an
oil lamp

to guide

the way"

-- dsnake1, hell notes

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020

Flight

the molecules of air are charged with grief...

photo by joelpapalini from pixabay



Flight



gone
as if you
have taken flight

quietly left
not even a goodbye
in the night

left me with
just the air
i breathe



15/11/2008
**********



sweet, sharp & painful.

---

Black Sabbath - She's Gone

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2019

stitches

It takes time, but the stitches will hold...

photo by Bru-nO at pixabay



stitches



On the wall of our kitchen hangs a framed cross-stitch artwork. It simply reads "OUR KITCHEN", and beneath the words are child-like pictures of fruits and vegetables. But the stitchings are fine and neat and one cannot count the hours she spent on the aida fabric. She is very perseverant, my missus.

She is also a good seamstress. She fixes up the missing buttons on my shirts, alters my new jeans. She sews dresses and skirts for herself and friends. Her pencil skirts are stunning. She modifies old jeans to make shorts, long before distressed jeans hit the stores. All this on a sewing machine at home.

"Aren't these shorts a bit too short?", I ask one alarmed day. She smiles and says it was not, and she will look good in it, which I cannot argue with that.

Tonight, after work, I pack a dinner home from the coffee shop and rummage in the fridge for a beer. The house is eerily quiet. I light up three joss sticks and place them in the urn on the altar, in front of her memorial tablet. Sometimes I would tell her that living without her is difficult, but I will try.

You see, sometimes in life, you pick the short end of the straw. Like her. Out of the blue a disease, a sickness, which she fought very bravely. The doctors tried to stitch her up as best as they can, but the rogue cells were rampant, and it has been many years since she lost that war.

I stand at the kitchen window, looking down at the parking lots below, at the stragglers going home to their families. I feel a tinge of envy in me, but I smile. A cool wind rushes in from the warm night, caressing my face, holding back the tears that are welling in my eyes…



03/08/2019
**********

313 words. Exactly. Semi-autobiographical.

---

Andy Lau - Thank You For Your Love

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2019

your eyes

to look into your eyes and see eternity...

photo by BarbaraALane at pixabay



your eyes


the eyes
are the open windows
to the soul
and in the moments that i look
deep into them
though they are clouded
because of the pain
they still burn with a flame
of fight

your eyes
smile like the first day
i met you
though there is a flicker
of regret
knowing that our days
together
will be like sand out of
our fingers

my eyes
are the dikes breaking
please don't
let her see my weakness
my fears
but a single tear
warm and salty rolls down
my cheeks

and then a frail hand touches my face.




written 15/05/2008
revised 15/05/2019

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Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2019

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

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

that you left me

❤

photo by 5933179 at pixabay



that you left me



i was afraid
time will erase
your memories

your smiles

and i am
getting old

so today
i will just
write

some words

i cannot
send you
a card
like before

or take your
hands in mine

and point to
the stars
in the sky

take this as
a poem

for you

and if you
have read it
you will smile

and would
have cried.



28.01.2008
**********

Still, one of my personal favourites...

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Black Sabbath - She's Gone

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

echoes in the night

I wrote this for NaPoWriMo 2014. Urggh! Not many eyeballs there, so a re-post. The piece was inspired by a scary urban legend. Thought of reworking it. Decided not.

photo by Alvimann @ morguefile.com



echoes in the night


the distant thud of thunder
that might have been
the last beat of your heart

in the blackness of the room

only the ticking of the clock
the slow twitch of its luminous hands
grasping the hour of the night

a shade of ghastly green

and then quite clearly from the ceiling
tock//tock//tock
the sound of marbles dropping

but above that is only the rooftop...


08/04/2014
**********

is Halloween around the corner?

---

"is that a strand of hair brushing your face?"

-- dsnake1, -O-


To keep you company for the night : Uriah Heep - Echoes in the Dark

---

© 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