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
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qingming

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BAND-MAID - about us

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

names

For GloPoWriMo 2025.

No prompt needed. Just wrote this in the middle of the night.

AI generated image by dsnake1 at Fotor



names


what is the pub's name again?
the one in the east coast?
a live band of Filipinos
with a lovely lady singer.
remember, you always walk up
to that singer with a slip of paper,
your neat handwriting,
for a song request.
there are always wolf whistles
because your skirt is so short,
and your legs so long.
we drink our brandy,
the band plays your songs,
at times we sing along.
sometimes we leave early
to catch the last bus home,
other nights we don't,
we walk under the stars,
the street lights glaring jealously,
the old rain trees sigh,
but now
after a lifetime,
i cannot remember that pub's name
but i remember yours clearly,
because
it is carved
in gilded letters
on a marble slab.



04/04/2025
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qingming

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Fleetwood Mac - You Make Loving Fun

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

the first time we talked

a long time ago, in a galaxy nearby...

AI generated image by dsnake1 at Fotor




the first time we talked


was at the staff canteen. during a break.
she smiled.

just a coke? there are curry puffs. they're free.

her eyes shone with a light like stars
or was i just too tired?

what's a nice guy like you doing in a joint like this?

what's a nice girl like you doing in a dump like this?

there is an informal understanding
that we would not talk to each other at work.
but we are not very understanding people.
and this is just a short break at work.
i took out a foul smelling beedie and light up.

at least better than ang hoon, she says, and laughs

and lights up a marlboro.
the air is bad outside on the club floor.
it is worse here.

she stubs out her cigarette

see ya, i have to return to my station

she gets up. her skirt is short. her legs are long.
she gives a short wave and smiles again.

i wanted to tell her
we should go for supper after ...

but she had disappeared back
into the vastness of the club.



27/05/2025
**********


"What’s the most important step a person can take?". The prompt at Friday Writings #189.

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Scorpions - Send Me An Angel

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

fourteen words

A lifetime, and an instant...

AI generated image by dsnake1 at Freepik



fourteen words


rain,
always,
on someone's
funeral,
but
not as cold
as the night
you
left.



11/09/2025
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The prompt at Friday Writings #194 asks us to "share 14 loving words, or words about love – any kind of love, for anyone or anything".

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And another fourteen words :


" her hands in mine
warm as morning's light,
there was no need for words "

partially from : "and a time for love" by dsnake1

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

A portrait of Kaneko Misuzu

The early-bird prompt at napowrimo.net (for NaPoWriMo 2025) was to write a portrait poem. I wrote it on the first day of NaPoWriMo, but other urgent things took over and I have to post it on the 2nd on my second blog. Probably you guys have not read it there. :)

pencil sketch by dsnake1, enhanced with Snapseed



A portrait of Kaneko Misuzu


It must be those eyes,
like dark coals
staring into the echoes,
a certain fleeting sadness,
as if she can see
into the future
her later unfortunate life,
that draws me
to the portrait.

"We're all different, and that's just fine"



01/04/2025
**********

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Kaneko Misuzu ( 金子 みすゞ), (1903 -1930), was a Japanese poet known for her poetry for children. She was celebrated during her lifetime, but her works fell into obscurity after her death. She was given a rather common given name Teru, but being well-read, she gave herself the pen name Misuzu, derived from the word 'misuzukari', which means 'the reaping of bamboo grasses'.

I may like to compare her life with that of Adelaide Crapsey (1878 - 1914), the inventor of the cinquain. Both were ardently pursuing their art during their brief lives, but their popularity waned after their deaths. Fortunately for us, their poetry were not lost.

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Big Catch
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At sunrise, glorious sunrise
it’s a big catch!
A big catch of sardines!
On the beach, it’s like a festival
but in the sea, they will hold funerals
for the ten thousands of dead.


-- Kaneko Misuzu

And for fun, an AI generated image of the above drawing in anime style from me at Fotor.

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

small miracles

From GloPoWriMo 2025. Yeah, yeah, no eyeballs.

Hope everyone is having a good day.

AI generated image by dsnake1 at Fotor



small miracles



Today I wish you small miracles
as you go about your waking day.

A blue sky, pure white clouds and green leaves sunlit.
A sparrow hopping in the shadow at the Buddha's feet.
The community cat meows back when you greet it.
The bus is not late, in the train someone offers you a seat.

Do not question if there are small miracles.
Expect them, waking up in the morning is one.



09/04/2025
**********

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“The whole world is a series of miracles, but we're so used to them we call them ordinary things.”

― Hans Christian Andersen

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

crossroads

A little moment in time...

AI generated image by dsnake1 at Fotor



crosssroads


my hand on your soft little one,
i hope i am not griping too hard
but i must hold on.
we are at the corner of Coleman and Hill
waiting for the lights to turn green.
you, my dear daughter
standing quietly by my side,
the big trucks and cars
all impatiently rushing by.
a ragged doll on your other hand,
on your back, your little backpack
with crayons and a colouring book,
a water bottle, some small towels.
you said you would like to carry it yourself
like how dad had always carried
a lot of things.

You are the light of the lamps,
the light in everyone's eyes.
the light of the stars above,
and now it shines in your eyes
the green man of the traffic lights
as we cross the road
in sure measured steps
on the long journey home.



06/05/2025
**********

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"so my dad tags along for he is stocky
and muscular so no one would want
to mess with me or the tank,"


- dsnake1, Lavender Street, early 60's

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025