Hồ Tây Hà Nội (West Lake, Hanoi)

An emerald blue -

Don’t be fooled by

The sky above’s hue.

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Something Spectacular

Ashen-ed skin,

A delicate hand to touch,

Veined, bruised, and pained.

 

Senses unfold,

Scent of sweet peony, mixed of

Morphine, sweat and uncertainty.

 

One room,

Telling one life’s story:

Beginning – middle – end.

 

“If you could – “

A stupid question

“What would you do, right now?”

 

           “Something spectacular!”

 

You shined.

...

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Oculus

Dilation -

Two globes, each their own constellation

In cranial orbit.

 

A sinister wink,

Dexter’s blink.

Both a sphere of sight unknown.

 

Prisms, I used to hold, change:

Colours unseen unfold.

 

Our worlds on an axis,

Amidst a multitude of opposing poles.

 

Let the light in!

Envision conflicting dimensions: one whole.

 

A pupil until old-ag...

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Containment Veterans

A cacophony of virtual,

    composed voices,

     connected through veins of

      communication in vacuum.

 

       contemplations vaingloriously

        catapulted via videoconferencing.

         coercively (in)visible, our in-person

          community seemingly vanquished.

 

           closing our villages

           creates new vanguards.

         

 ...

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Tropical rain vs drizzle

To live a tropical life,

Living ‘the rainy season’,

Is unusual for me,

for where I’m from,

Rain is served with a cup of tea.

 

Astonished how the force, might and gale of the tropics all

Serve to open one’s eyes to the UK’s, often-paltry, drizzle-fall.

 

In Hà Nội, motorbikes wade the water,

(Exhaust-water-level-permitting)

Markets unwavering to sell fresh produc...

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Rainy Season in Hà Nội

 

Abrupt – a sudden sweeping;

Disrupting West Lake’s vast serenity.

 

Erupt – an undulation;

Crescents and slight waves conduct the cityscape.

 

Via high vantage, the rains bring peace.

As for ancient-modern city streets,

Flooding fails to cease,

Only slow the chaos of life.

 

Ashen achromatic clouds cradle the relief of green –

Of brown, of branches, of ...

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Restoration

Not to your former beauty,

Weakened, cracked and pale with age,

Stony face of former onyx glory.

 

I’ve the skills to restore you,

Replenish you – your intricate features,

The credit I will claim – mine.

 

Pinpoint precision drill-bits,

To smooth and hollow,

Your now-empty marble veins.

 

Like a spider battles his wind-blown web,

My craftsmanship, symmetric...

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