Thursday, September 5, 2019

Through Earth's Wasteland on a Moving Train

Through earth's wasteland on a moving train,
Looking out the window at a strange terrain.
From the other direction, a train comes passing,
Makes me look faster with the world going backwards.
Dilapidated gains causing memory pains.
Where once millions of bright flowers bloomed,
Now is bathed in dim light’s dreary gloom.
One Guard at the gate with no one to communicate,
Arriving on time finding the dawn late.

Once there was a peaceful horizon
When Yasser met Menachem and England returned Hong Kong.
Then Obama flashed his shiny teeth,
Chewing us into the belly of the beast.
Hopeful dreams became tarnished, unpolished,
As the Owner of dogs shortened our leashes,
Tied us to fence posts water out of reaches.
The stories that we told before optimism slipped away,
Are there no more songs for us to sing today?

The relentless dripping of a drying Willow Wash,
Love River’s algae re-polluting,
As our wind is catching sail, distancing us,
Our world’s recovery in the infirmary.
As science finds solutions, pundits find denial.  
Nature overtaken, revival overthrown,
Putting into doubt humanity’s survival,
Remedial education in a corner all alone,
Who tried to break this old man's bones?

Knick knack paddy whack,  keeping all my bones,
She’ll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes.
Growing and knowing right from wrong,
With the world in revision, let's stay strong.
Reaching fruition, multiplication,
As the numb world falls into delusional fearing,
See clearly the inches and fractions cohering.
Gaining passion with every movement bold,
The new world emerging from the shell of the old.

September 5, 2019
Copyright © 2019 by David Barry Temple. All rights reserved 


Sunday, September 1, 2019

dragonflies doused with blue dye

Hong Kong blue dye water cannondragonflies doused with blue dye
for the morrow they're arrested
fireflies' laser beams confusion
of their facial recognition
escaping charges of treason
for their serious insurrection
sonic streams of guttural sounds 
water canon spray when found
then they all fall down
stirred, not shaken, Molotov cocktails 
mockery from the British Monarchy.
a colonial colonoscopy...
but it cannot reach me
on the river's edge
only set on fire that heap of rubbish
across the South China Sea.
i sit here peacefully by a Taiwan river
colluding with nature 
as an army of ants 
crawls up my pants 
preparing to liberate some egg-fu-young 
a  recipe from old Hong Kong
dropped from the tip of this expat's tongue
far from the madding throng.

September 1, 2019
Copyright © 2019 by David Barry Temple. All rights reserved