A New Year in Harbin

4th Feb 20194th Feb 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My Picture: Harbin this evening….New Years Eve in China

Fingers slowly freeze,
on this New Year’s Eve.
The fast dipping moon,
cold sleeps around my face.
Clutches of deep red lanterns,
parade to empty streets.
And ice stars dance,
sick from half melting
and clinging to a desperate sun.
My skin stings in the cold wind,
ice white and torn inside.
I can see my breath,
now singing for the first warm day.

A winter day in Xinxiang

3rd Feb 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My Picture: Xinxiang, China.

A sky full of black,

a delicate insight

to a day gray day dawning.

Standing alone

I can smell the end of winter sadness,

joyous despair and a pale spring rattle.

The stars ease their tears,

I watch them in the cold February air.

And trace the shapes of mood and gesture.

Year of the pig

2nd Feb 20192nd Feb 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

hdrpl

My Pictures: Today – Xinxiang Medical University, Henan, China.

Last days of the year
I was sat in my favourite cafe,
drinking coffee.
Streets no longer crowded,
a city heavy and slow
with the flushing of the old year.

Shadows passed,
along with the other imitators of life.
But I am older now,
a part accepted
and conversations burning away.
I see the shadows for what they are.

I thought about a friend I know,
consumed by ill-fate and impossibility.

He asked me last night
……………“What is your life like?”

I took only a moment to answer
“There’s always better work down the line….”

Words have magic

1st Feb 20191st Feb 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My Picture: The last treatment today.

Hiding the pain

I spent the afternoon

listening to John Coltrane,

‘The lost album’.

And as winter fights to stay,

with rooms dark and somber.

I started to figure it out.

Nature’s single breath,

and an eternal now.

Thoughts in a silent cafe

31st Jan 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My Pictures: Taken today.

Sometimes it is difficult to straighten
my saddened thoughts.
I make my bed, drink some coffee
and catch up on the world.
But it is not always enough.

I muddle through the day
swimming upwards, backwards
and from time-to time
finding moments to write
and see things differently.

On occasions I read Bukowski,
then I realize that things could be worse.
So I read Dickinson,
to find a tangible mind and spirit.

In the end, my thinking
always seems to end up in another room.
A landscape of the spirit,
blue sky and thinking open mind.

Pain Diagnosed

30th Jan 2019 / Rugby Lion / 1 Comment

My picture: A grey day in Xinxiang

After the pain….
drop by for coffee
…..a mind of evolving language
that gives me comfort.

A future frays like a cut wound
…. but at least today
the pain splutters out.
And my words are open.

Unseen Songs

29th Jan 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

rptnb

My Pictures

Wandering in a bookshop in Xinxiang,
I came across an Underwood 310 typewriter,
an Olivetti by another name.
It was not in good shape….
probably taken too many victims.

A young woman gave me a book about
the sex life of Andy Warhol.

‘You might find this interesting”

I thought this was a strange combination
of histories mingling….

In a moment of lighthouse flashes,
I felt a warm familiar breeze….
a self-moment of age.
There and then
I wanted to love someone.
Until death comes to visit me again,
the wind that brought me here still goes on.

Xiao Nian

28th Jan 201928th Jan 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

http://www.cctv.com: The 23rd day of the year’s last lunar month marks a traditional Chinese holiday called Xiao Nian, which means Preliminary Eve, the prelude to the Lunar New Year’s Eve celebration.

Another year without summer,
the cold sun fills the heavens and the earth.
Darkness on the edge of the city,
a hard moon sick and rising.
One suffers love, so meager

The Jade Emperor shows me a way forward.
A vision in light white silk, beyond the empty void
burning me up with hope……
my mind is awake……
No way now to hide the fire inside.

How to show your age

27th Jan 201927th Jan 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My Picture

With daylight fading beyond the
silence, I went for coffee.
I was reading Bukowski….
‘Notes of a Dirty Old Man’,
when one of my Chinese friends joined me.
A young doctor with love rocking in the wind,
who is on the path in the desolate landscape.

“What are you reading?”

I ordered him some warm milk,

“A book about the space between
the covers of books……..
and why some poems have lived long enough….”

Unsure if he understood my words,
I suggested he sit down and order
this poem a glass of shaojiu.
We both found this funny…..

What we overlook

26th Jan 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My Pictures: A new bookshop opened today in Xinxiang.

January cold in Xinxiang,
I met a young woman
who told me a sad story
about a boy from England.
She looked battle torn,
her eyes clouded
by his tormented life.

A sky full of black,

a delicate insight

to a day gray day dawning.

Standing alone

I can smell the end of winter sadness,

joyous despair and a pale spring rattle.

The stars ease their tears,

I watch them in the cold February air.

And trace the shapes of mood and gesture.

Last days of the year I was sat in my favourite cafe, drinking coffee. Streets no longer crowded, a city heavy and slow with the flushing of the old year.

Shadows passed, along with the other imitators of life. But I am older now, a part accepted and conversations burning away. I see the shadows for what they are.

I thought about a friend I know, consumed by ill-fate and impossibility.

He asked me last night ……………“What is your life like?”

I took only a moment to answer “There’s always better work down the line….”

Hiding the pain

I spent the afternoon

listening to John Coltrane,

‘The lost album’.

And as winter fights to stay,

with rooms dark and somber.

I started to figure it out.

Nature’s single breath,

and an eternal now.

Sometimes it is difficult to straighten my saddened thoughts. I make my bed, drink some coffee and catch up on the world. But it is not always enough.

I muddle through the day swimming upwards, backwards and from time-to time finding moments to write and see things differently.

On occasions I read Bukowski, then I realize that things could be worse. So I read Dickinson, to find a tangible mind and spirit.

In the end, my thinking always seems to end up in another room. A landscape of the spirit, blue sky and thinking open mind.

After the pain…. drop by for coffee …..a mind of evolving language that gives me comfort.

A future frays like a cut wound …. but at least today the pain splutters out. And my words are open.

Wandering in a bookshop in Xinxiang, I came across an Underwood 310 typewriter, an Olivetti by another name. It was not in good shape…. probably taken too many victims.

A young woman gave me a book about the sex life of Andy Warhol.

‘You might find this interesting”

I thought this was a strange combination of histories mingling….

In a moment of lighthouse flashes, I felt a warm familiar breeze…. a self-moment of age. There and then I wanted to love someone. Until death comes to visit me again, the wind that brought me here still goes on.

Another year without summer, the cold sun fills the heavens and the earth. Darkness on the edge of the city, a hard moon sick and rising. One suffers love, so meager

The Jade Emperor shows me a way forward. A vision in light white silk, beyond the empty void burning me up with hope…… my mind is awake…… No way now to hide the fire inside.

With daylight fading beyond the silence, I went for coffee. I was reading Bukowski…. ‘Notes of a Dirty Old Man’, when one of my Chinese friends joined me. A young doctor with love rocking in the wind, who is on the path in the desolate landscape.