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

nine eleven

i am sorry if it opens old wounds.

photo by lauramusikanski
image from morguefile.com



nine eleven


i
up above
in a canvas
of sun-laced clouds
a jetliner trailing thunder

ii
my neighbour
sounded almost apologetic
the towers had fallen he said
collapsed
to a heap of dust

iii
maybe he wanted
to tell me that
it was not him
or his religion
that pulled
the trigger

iv
we waited for the lift
smoked our cigarettes
wondering if a tragedy
half a world away
will change our lives

v
up above
a black dome of sky
the strobe lights of a jetliner
chasing the stars

vi
jetliners will never look the same again.



various dates, sept 2008
a wee editing, sept 2019
********************

---

[] []

      us
__________

     them


-- dsnake1, The Height of Haiku Challenge - Day 11, i write too.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2019

home

This is from an old post but I think it is worth sharing again.

Life throws you to unexpected and strange places, but you will always come home.

photo by dsnake1



home



what can be seen then
when we have returned
our arms for the night
our backs against
the weathered boards
of our barracks
as we slowly savoured
every wisp of
cigarette smoke
(and some had more
than just tobacco)
our fatigues unbuttoned
boots unlaced,
removed
as we flicked butts
towards the perimeter fence
towards the concertina
razors
that are protecting us
keeping us in

what can be seen then
an evening sky
blushing red
the colour of
muzzle flashes
red tracers
clouds stretched thin
like oily gunsmoke
and a scimitar moon
unsheathing
and then
through the thousands
of kilometres

the faces of
girl friends
wives
& children
waiting
for their loves
to return

home.



23/09/2012
**********

---

Tracy Chapman - Stand By Me

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2019

a page

In the grand scheme of things, are we each just a page?

image from pixabay




a page


when all is done and said
and laid to rest

the leaves of the albums
thumbed
smudged and closed
and the tears had run dry

and there are no more
comforting words
and extended hands

then

the universe moist its fingers
and silently turns
a page


30/08/2008
**********

---

“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.”

― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

birds

sometimes we wish we can fly...

photo by Alvimann at morguefile.com


birds


once it was
archaeopteryx
because i was
younger then
and i was intrigued
by it's deathly shadow
frozen in limestone
but now it is
the free seagull
of the waves
and blue skies
because you
sang of them.


11/05/2016
**********


a one sentence poem?

---

Pink Floyd, A Great Day for Freedom

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

how i started on poetry

You will not remember your first dip into poetry.

Photo by LizzieB67 at pixabay


how i started on poetry


i copied nursery rhymes
wide-eyed
on flimsy jotter books
doodled stick figures
to go with it.
and later
all pimply faced
i scratched foul-mouthed rants
in little notebooks
because i thought
i can change the world

is it poetry then
if i carved an opinion
with a bayonet
on an ammo box?

or on star lit nights
named the constellations
to the woman i loved
while seated on a cenotaph?

and now, almost a lifetime later
squinting into the glare
of the monitor
fingers on plastic buttons

i wonder, did this started it all?

twinkle twinkle little star
how i wonder what you are...




written 03/04/2014
revised 28/02/2018
****************

---

"Tell me what you're reading, and I'll tell you who you are."

--Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk, First president of Czechoslovakia.


and if you still want to change the world : Ten Years After, I'd love to change the world

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

bread and margarine

somewhere in the horizon, the ocean and the sky meet and annihilate each other...

photo by khfalk at pixabay




bread and margarine


outside, the sun is a melting nuclear blast
it hurts the brain just thinking about it
too tired to make a lunch, just paste
two slices of bread with margarine
and call it that, there is zero
i really want to do, except
thinking of all the regrets
all filling up in a glass jar
so that one day i can toss
it all out and release them
back to the alleys and bell bottoms
and torn jeans where they came from

and

when you are old
looking through
the dusty stuff
in the shelves
thinking of all
the loves that were

and are

one can never stop
clutching at the
clinging nostalgia
like cold cobwebs
pulling at your face.


20/02/2018
**********

---

"you watch weeds grow and wonder who or which is more unwanted."

-- dsnake1, a point in your life



and a song to tide us over : Traffic - Love

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

that you left me

❤

photo by G Hodan
image from publicdomainpictures.net



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
**********

---

"Sometimes, in moments of quiet solitude,the past catches up with you and holds your hand."
-- dsnake1, urban poems, Feb 2008


This is another re-post. But today is a special day...

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2015

a lesson

Raise your hands all those who agree that 2014 had been mostly a bad year.

digital sketch by dsnake1, made with Sketchpad



a lesson


On a New Year's eve, as I was about to go to work in the afternoon, a lady knocked on my front door. She was selling ballpoint pens. She had a card stating she was partially blind. Her dress had seen better days, but she was neat. She was also missing a couple of front teeth.

As I was in a hurry, I declined. She smiled and apologised and started to walk away. And then like a slap, it hit me. This is New Year's eve, for goodness sake. Why were you so mean? And I ran and caught up with the lady at the lift landing.

So I bought a pen from the lady, all for two bucks. I am kicking myself now. I mean, how much can one make from two bucks? I should have bought a few more. Here I was griping about working on New Year's eve, and here was a lady who would probably never be able to find a job that can pay her a decent wage.

Today has taught me a lesson. Slow down, man, slow down. Breathe, and then breathe deeply again. You may be able to see better.


31/12/2014
**********

---

Here's wishing all my readers a safe and happy New Year!

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2015

prayer

Hot on the heels of a colleague being laid off, another one is handing in his resignation letter. It's getting scary, not too good a start to the new year.

This was something I wrote a long time ago, when I was young and angry and aimless. It was a prayer, sort of. However, I think this plea to the bodhisattva is still relevant now, as was then, just to remind me in my times of doubt.





image by dsnake1, done with pencilmadness




prayer





Help me, Goddess, to be the always hopeful
who has known countless failures
and will continue to endure,
who who thinks that nothing is impossible,
who believes that one day we will reach the stars.

Let me remember
that out of darkness, is light
that wild flowers can blossom
in poor soil after a cold night
that crab grass, though weak in frame
will not snap in a wind.

Leave me not
to be a lost man in a cold world
or like crippled fighters hopping back to base
like a prisoner counting his days.


31/08/76 to 01/09/76
revised 03/11/06
****************

---

a dragonfly rests
on a lotus flower

before the hunt


05/01/2014
**********

-- dsnake1


Shared on Poetry Pantry #183 at Poets United.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2014

about haiku

This is an essay about haiku. I hope.




image from visipix.com


what i have learned about haiku



I started writing English haiku only recently, maybe about five or six years back when I started sending in stuff to the monthly shiki at haikuworld.org. I said stuff because what I wrote then, on retrospect, was not really haiku, maybe some words worked into 3 lines and seventeen syllables.

So after climbing a learning curve, read some really good haiku from some blogs, websites and books, and writing some myself ( I mean really write), I have come to see haiku in a different light. What was once I thought for kids and word-blocked writers (hey, what's so difficult about a three line poem?) was something not easy to fathom. It is like fencing in the dark.

This is what I have learned so far, about haiku in English:

A haiku in Japanese is usually written in 3 groups of syllables (5-7-5), 17 syllables in all. This is pretty rigid in Japanese. In English, it is not wrong to write in 17 syllables (following the rules), but usually, only 10 to 12 syllables are the norm.This is something to do with diphthongs, which I will not explain because it will get me into a tangle.

A haiku is about the present, thus it is always written in the present tense. It is concerned about a single happening.

Avoid metaphors and similes. Words like "as" or "like a" should not be used in haiku, because what you intend to say will be associated with something else.

I have learned something very basic about haiku from fellow bloggers and haiku maestros. One very good haiku writer told me these words : "Show, don't tell." Don't tell the reader what to feel. Tell the image instead, let the reader interpret and feel in his own imagination. Don't say, "how happy!" Show what is happy. This is the mantra that I repeat to myself when I start on a haiku.

There are not many words you can squeeze into a haiku. Thus there are some words that should be dropped. Most adjectives, adverbs, long bombastic words. No emotional words like "beautiful" and "horrible". Leave that to the reader. Avoid "I" since you don't need to show what you are feeling.

Haiku is about experiences. Do not overlook the seemingly small details. That said, it does not mean that an older person is a better haiku writer than say, a very young one. Children can write very good haiku too.

remember the 3 lines :
image
image
event.

That's about all that I can think of at this moment. If you, dear reader, has anything to share, feel free to leave your comments..

As William J Higginson wrote in his very excellent book The Haiku Handbook, "the central act of haiku is letting an object or event touch us, and then sharing it with another."

---

Here are some examples from the masters:

on a bare branch
a crow has settled...

       autumn evening

- Basho (1644 - 1694)


sick on a journey -

dreams wander on
over dried up fields.

- Basho



by a winter river
forsaken, a dog's
         carcass!

- Masaoka Shiki (1867 - 1902)



in the toy pail
at low tide        floats
the still ferris wheel


- Cor van den Heuvel

---

And now, (not from a master), an urban haiku :


day moon at first light.

the street lamps
hesitate to switch off


- dsnake1



Shared on Poetry Pantry #167 at Poets United.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2013

after a rain

It's hard to find some quiet in the city, but you can. You step out of the office, ignore the machines for a while, take a breather, a smoke. Read a book (yes a book, not a cell phone) in the train. Allow some time just for yourself. Solitude can refresh.

I wrote and posted this poem a few years back, on this blog. This poem was inspired by a song, November Rain.

photo by dsnake1



after a rain



sometimes

i find joy
in solitude
but do not
mistaken it
for
loneliness

because

i hear
the quiet
of leaves
      falling
like dew

feel the ebb
of sea waves
caressing
      shifting sands
unwilling yet
to yield

and i
shelter
in the dark
like bats
      seeking
moonlight

waiting

the acrid
ash
of anger
to
sink to
an abyss

then
like a rush
of fresh wind
after
     a rain
face the world

again.


03/10/06
********

---

"Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow.” 

-- Kahlil Gibran


Shared on Poetry Pantry #164 at Poets United.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2013

NightSky and Stars

Here's something I wrote some time ago, and posted here before. It's one of my personal favourites.

I know, another re-post.



photo by Daniele Musella
image from morguefile.com




NightSky and Stars



      What myriad secrets you hold up there
      we can only boldly guess
      Your mysteries, time locked
      & unwilling yet to share.

What light i saw
could have been born a billion years before

you are ancient legends, retold over glowing fires
domains of the gods, we are told.
In time, as we grew wiser,
we dared, we probed your dark canvas.

Your depth, i could not fathom
the immense distance you span.
If i could live a million reincarnations,
i guess i could not traverse you from end to end.

Tonight, on such a cold night,
in a miniscule niche on a blue planet,
as i lift my eyes to the vastness above,
the stars, they spoke to me in lights of life.

On this planet, spinning, are we.
Solar Planetary System, #3

      ashes to earth to life to earth to ashes
      trilobites in shale, archaeopteryx in amber
      Beatles on wax, memories in silicon brains
      man chasing gold chasing dreams chasing fame

now what light i saw
could have been me a billion years before.

*** DEC 1987 ***


© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 )

that you left me

Sometimes, in moments of quiet solitude,the past catches up with you and holds your hand...



painting by Albrecht Duerer (1471 - 1528)
image from visipix.com


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.



28.01.08
********

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1)

for the new year

Here's some thoughts for the new year...(okay, I know this is Febraury, but I have been very busy, and I plan to go slow this year )

After the last sparks of fireworks extinguished from the skies of the cities, and auld lang synes were sung, and ships tooted their foghorns, beer and wines were drunk and confetti flung in the air, after the songs and handshakes, did we resolve to make this world a better place than last year's? Will the guns that fire in anger stay silent longer, will prejudice be tempered with reason?



For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning. -- T. S. Eliot




photo by Apple
image enhanced by dsnake1


will the new year



will

the new day
be

like
    water
       from
the rainfall
       that
    runs
with the
dead leaves
into
the culverts,
to be
lost,
knowing
they
cannot fight
the
pull of
gravity,

or

like the
sunrays
of the
    new
       morning,
scattering
       off
    tree leaves,
the eaves
of buildings,
    angular
       and sharp,
    filling
every corner
every crevice,
    curious,
       piercing

and free

?


31/12/07
********
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 )