Poems by Christopher Kelen

 

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Monte Fort Travesa Sancho Pança San Ma Lo in front of red market
Hac Sa: Yin yang musing Taipa: Aubade September (instructions)

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Christopher Kelen

Monte Fort

 

the paved hill lies in its fallen flowers

there is a temple half way up

where they¡¦ve painted the moss red

higher the dragonflies guard air

with infinite labours

 

from the acropolis

the city is endless

nor is it Macao

     every country¡¦s out there

          under the big top

and every year the sun defeats

 

cicadas sharp in the Zhuhai haze

where first the breeze is apprehended

 

spent breath of the tourists

is mocked by those cats

who sleep with the canons up here

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Christopher Kelen

Travesa Sancho Pança

 

small boy expecting dog to follow

scooters rise

piano beyond to take up the distance

how long in this village may I remain anonymous?

 

the market will cleanse me of every desire

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Christopher Kelen

San Ma Lo

 

iniquitous lobbies

darkest street of the day

 

the face of the jeweller

about to be robbed

 

the brave man with gun

or with girl

 

imagine the croupier

rope bucket above us

specie of all nations in there

 

today

the rhythm of beggar¡¦s cups

like horses¡¦ hooves

 

jackhammer behind me

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Christopher Kelen

in front of the red market

 

loving the smoke and fuss of the town

in a lucky red shirt

on national day

 

I study the city

like watching dough rise

brick by brick

 

red postbox reminds me

of the letter for which I have no stamp

 

red box on the bus for the quanta exacta I lack

 

red flag in its stars which no one can read

 

the red is for blood

all plan not to spill

 

it¡¦s a red letter day today

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Christopher Kelen

Hac Sa: Yin yang musing

 

eyes shut

  and under the birds

            lie the rocks

only water can tell

 

it¡¦s out of their

             irresistible stubbornness

 each lends the other

             a form

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Christopher Kelen

Taipa: Aubade

 

a candle

then a bird for light

 

kettle up against my sun

 

the bright soaks us

from other days

as if the night were cracked

mere habit of haunting eyes

 

so

thoughtless clouds stick unintending

boats crossing too in their first clothes

pale water holding up the dawn

 

a bridge

the Bank of China

   casts a glittering stripe

to bend the silver of my river

to take the wheel¡¦s long bow

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Christopher Kelen

September (instructions)

 

dream fountains

under dappled light

oasis fruits

crisp cloth on table

better still clear water

in glass

unbreakable shade

 

wake bathed

in the heat comes hammering still

till rain nails everything down

 

pray for a breeze

but not too hard

 

keep the bath

first thing it takes you from dreaming

reminds you to give gods thanks for the sea

it stems the heaviness of noontide

last cleanses you for night

that you might

dream fountains

still water

clear glass

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