Coffee Time Cafe: Xinxiang: Henan Province, China.

Everybody here is fresh and young.
Unscratched, and never tired
of looking at each other.

I took a seat and opened my copy of
“The Last Night of the Earth Poems”
And felt like the oldest person in China.

The coffee is hot and clean, I come
here mainly for the coffee.
And the old waitress who always
says “hello” in practiced English.

There is a young couple across from me.
He wants to touch her, pressing for a kiss
at least in mind and spirit.

But this is not the way it happens in China.
And she is having none of it.

A quick look and a smile at me.
And without minor notice,
she decides to leave.

So now I am alone again,
a little earlier than I expected today.

For me poetry is about moments, bite-sized pieces of my life, and the truth is I never really know when these moments are going to happen. There is not always a ‘signal’. I just walk, listen, watch, look, hear and taste what is around me.

Yesterday was a warm day, so I walked by the river and a ‘poetry moment’ happened. I guess ‘life’ happens like this….but maybe we do not always see it.

So I wrote this poem.

A Walking Moment

My Picture: River Wei.  Xinxiang City, Henan Province, China.

An out-of-nowhere moment.
A mother breast feeding her baby,
a knowing nod and a peeking way.
My secret nourisher in a lonely place.

Two sleeping dogs, tethered
with rope and chain.
Enacting a punishment of
pain and pleasure.

A tidy breeze, unfastening frames
with great seriousness.
That spoke to me from the inside.

The rush of traffic stacked away
and slowed down by silence.
An armored peace to meet
my solitude.

An orange coated beetle caught
up in a freezing lament.
Rotting and waiting to die.
As the old man, consumed
by thoughts of his demise
drinks the last drop of Baijiu.

And a carefree boy walking
the silent streets, turns slowly round
and smiles anxiously as time sleeps again.
I still believe in moments.

This weekend here in China, and other parts of Asia we are celebrating mid-autumn festival. Mid -Autumn Day is Monday September 24th. In China this is a national holiday.

Mid-Autumn Festival. … Falling on the 15th day of the 8th month according to the Chinese lunar calendar, the Mid-Autumn Festival is the second grandest festival in China after the Chinese New Year. It takes its name from the fact that it is always celebrated in the middle of the autumn season.

The moon is a symbol of fertility, prosperity and peace, it also indicates nurturing of our dreams, and passion. The full moon symbolises family reunion and an auspicious token of abundance, harmony, and luck. The harvest festival also encompasses the fruits of labour by the farmers.

So..I wrote this poem this morning. I guess we all see the moon differently.

Mid-Autumn No 2.

Lugou Bridge, Beijing, China (China Daily)

The moon, now full grown
Cold and darker.
A statue through a
gauze-draped window.
Disappearing, as pain stains
from mountain less risings.

A crystal bottle of liqueur
by its side, so cruel and crazy.
And the blackest of Chinese ink,
draws the ink dark moon.
As the ten suns rise,
silent as the night’s rough husk.

How sad to think of the moon like this.
A pale white shadow, drifting in silver fields
above the mountains rim.
To know that once the song was sweet.