The stranger

7th May 20197th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My picture: Another doodle….but a self-portrait of sorts.

Strange how fast night comes,
a solid sound as jaded faces melt.

Then the night shivers out
an early morning drift, like a sigh.

In the wink of an eye,
a world cowed by wind and rain.

A summer’s backward glance,
and broken shells in disarray.

Tokens of regret left all around,
but dreams forget to come.

And sleeping now, life is sweet
all tucked inside dawn’s blue light.

See me as I am

6th May 20196th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / 2 Comments

My Picture: I am going through a phase of adding my drawings to my poems…another example.

A friend asked me about pain,

I told him I know something.

“A new diagnosis, an enduring ailment

and then the real pain comes”

He seemed satisfied,

that my heart was dark enough.

Sunday morning, again

5th May 20195th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

A picture of my drawing…sadness is all around…sometimes.

A young woman sweeping

in the morning shadow.

Silently, I leave the bed.

Half fear, half hope

….. another

brick wall Sunday.

Cancer Days

4th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My pictures and my drawing….reflecting on another time…another place…so far away.

All day long,
marking medical papers.
Divisions of cells,
seasons of mutations
and angel crowns.

Meditated by a yellow bird,
gently touching a sick wife.
The sickness is me,
I hope you’re not lonely.

When life has left

3rd May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My picture of my drawing.

Her hair tells a story,
a geisha dance to the world.
Enough winters gathered
and lips turned icebergs.

Her blue sleek steps,
once a soul to our time.
Now withered memories
of pain thrown, and pale loss.

The sound of noise

2nd May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My Picture: A simple doodle in my journal……

All morning I’ve been thinking.
I wonder about the trees, the flowers and
the noise outside my window.

Sometimes I watch the trees sway,
always humble and kind.
Do the flowers have mountains to climb?
It can’t be easy having the white clouds watching over them.

And the noise, always the noise
it never gets away, until we lose the measure of life.

Happy Workers Day

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

My picture of my drawing: 1st May is International Workers Day…so I thought about this..everyday is ‘International Workers-Day’ …for many people, especially children…nothing really to celebrate.

12 years old,
my mother tells me it is International workers day.
I know…I work 17 hours every day.
If only….

If only I could see my daddy…I miss my daddy…..he works so far away.
If only there was a playground for me and my friends to play in.
If only there was fresh water for me and mummy to drink
If only I could draw pictures, I like drawing pictures.
If only the man did not come at night time…
If only……

Happy workers day to all the people in the world.
I will finish this box soon……..then the next one.

Sleepless Nights

30th Apr 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My picture: A simple drawing I did…part of a late dream one night…..

I know the night outside my apartment is cold,
and the wind turns empty.
Sprawled on my bed, my heart is not asleep
and my mind is wide open.

Touching distant signals, watching the bodies
no flesh and flesh in a cage of sleep.
These fellow non sleepers kiss my brain and shed a tear of time.
A drop of dreaming on the rim of vast silence.

Sometimes, I would like you to sing me to sleep.
I’ll fly endlessly wishing me well to remember this vision.
A labour of tears, false dawns and false grief,
clock ticking loud in the dark for all to see.

All I need

29th Apr 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

rhdr

My pictures: I went to see a concert tonight at Henan Normal University in Henan. To hear Western classical music played with such individual interpretation and passion… by Shi Meng Xiao… a post graduate student at Henan Normal University…. was simply a very special moment for me….

Relentless April days,
it hit me without warning.
Schubert , the most poetic musician
Absorbing light, deep within
……a soak right to the bone.

Until that moment there’s pain,
for simply being.
Then tall birds gathered
Chopin and Bach,
and three became as one.

Water margin

28th Apr 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My picture: A dragon fish….my friend keeps these fish…so I wondered about the life of this beautiful creature.

Strange how fast night comes, a solid sound as jaded faces melt.

Then the night shivers out an early morning drift, like a sigh.

In the wink of an eye, a world cowed by wind and rain.

A summer’s backward glance, and broken shells in disarray.

Tokens of regret left all around, but dreams forget to come.

And sleeping now, life is sweet all tucked inside dawn’s blue light.

A friend asked me about pain,

I told him I know something.

“A new diagnosis, an enduring ailment

and then the real pain comes”

He seemed satisfied,

that my heart was dark enough.

A young woman sweeping

in the morning shadow.

Silently, I leave the bed.

Half fear, half hope

….. another

brick wall Sunday.

All day long, marking medical papers. Divisions of cells, seasons of mutations and angel crowns.

Meditated by a yellow bird, gently touching a sick wife. The sickness is me, I hope you’re not lonely.

Her hair tells a story, a geisha dance to the world. Enough winters gathered and lips turned icebergs.

Her blue sleek steps, once a soul to our time. Now withered memories of pain thrown, and pale loss.

All morning I’ve been thinking. I wonder about the trees, the flowers and the noise outside my window.

Sometimes I watch the trees sway, always humble and kind. Do the flowers have mountains to climb? It can’t be easy having the white clouds watching over them.

And the noise, always the noise it never gets away, until we lose the measure of life.

12 years old, my mother tells me it is International workers day. I know…I work 17 hours every day. If only….

Happy workers day to all the people in the world. I will finish this box soon……..then the next one.

I know the night outside my apartment is cold, and the wind turns empty. Sprawled on my bed, my heart is not asleep and my mind is wide open.

Touching distant signals, watching the bodies no flesh and flesh in a cage of sleep. These fellow non sleepers kiss my brain and shed a tear of time. A drop of dreaming on the rim of vast silence.

Sometimes, I would like you to sing me to sleep. I’ll fly endlessly wishing me well to remember this vision. A labour of tears, false dawns and false grief, clock ticking loud in the dark for all to see.

Relentless April days, it hit me without warning. Schubert , the most poetic musician Absorbing light, deep within ……a soak right to the bone.

Until that moment there’s pain, for simply being. Then tall birds gathered Chopin and Bach, and three became as one.

Open in hunger, we slowly approached. A fish of silver, flash with barbed mouth. And a poet, inner soul red and time wounded.

The fish spoke first “You know….. there are rain clouds at the window, hiding their trail.” So I took out my pen and tapped on the glass.