China Poems
My three+ weeks in China have so far yielded three poems, each touching on one of the aspects of the trip that I found most intriguing, fascinating, thought-provoking ... You get the idea.
The first poem deals with the constant back-and-forth between the very old and the very new.
Yin and yang
Old is measured in millennia
new is tallied in heartbeats.
Water buffalo drag wooden plows
through rice paddies that
fringe six lane expressways.
On mist-veiled mountains
cell phone towers vie for space
with ancient pagodas.
Tiny homes of wood and clay brick
huddle around hutong courtyards
in the shadow of forty-story
glass and concrete monoliths.
Stick-stick soldiers dodge
cars on taxi-clogged streets
while shopkeepers squat on their heels
eating steamed buns and fried noodles
in front of hole-in-the-wall booths
selling the latest DVDs.
The second poem describes some of the things we saw in the parks when we strolled through at night or visited in the morning to learn tai chi. Although the title refers to a specific place and time, we saw similar sights in many different places.
Five Snapshots
People’s Park, Luoyang 7:00 AM
1
With mop and water
he inscribes elegant calligraphy.
It disappears in sunlight
before the poem is finished.
No matter.
It was what it was while it was.
2
Arm draws back, whip cracks.
A subtle caress of the lash
sets the top spinning
and everything pauses
to breathe.
3
Fans snap open, edges fluttering
like petals in wind.
The women sit with one fluid motion
legs crossed, fans beside faces
moving sculptures in morning light.
4
Side together side touch
turn and bow, arms like branches.
The line bobs and sways in perfect unison
as breeze asks grass
to join the dance.
5
Concentrate, gather power
from ground to crown.
Flow, balance, strength and ease
converge at the
still center.
The final piece refers to the terra cotta warriors in Xi'an and Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi, the Yellow Emperor, who tried to rule the afterlife with his army of soldier statues.
Parable
Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi placed bamboo-inscribed reports on scales
and read until he had digested a predetermined weight of knowledge
to manage the far corners of his empire.
His Great Wall filled gaps between the defenses
of the warring states he had united.
Canals and calligraphy further tied the kingdom together.
The Yellow Emperor searched for the Elixir of Life
in the three Sacred Mountains of the Sea
would not hear the word “death” and followed Dragon Veins
from sky to mountain peaks and down
until he found the spot where earth’s energy
met heaven’s spirit
and created harmonious balance.
Qin Shi Huangdi, determined to rule after as he had ruled before
built an underground palace filled with soldiers, horses, chariots,
cranes, geese and swans, acrobats and mirrors
placed within four walls
guarded by four towers
facing the four cardinal points.
Constellations glittered and quicksilver rivers flowed.
Candles were lit to burn for eternity and
crossbows armed to slay invaders.
Huangdi and his concubines,
and the artisans forbidden to reveal the secrets of the tomb
lay for two thousand years
guarded by a hundred thousand terra cotta troops
until a farmer digging a well achieved what
no army had accomplished.
The first poem deals with the constant back-and-forth between the very old and the very new.
Yin and yang
Old is measured in millennia
new is tallied in heartbeats.
Water buffalo drag wooden plows
through rice paddies that
fringe six lane expressways.
On mist-veiled mountains
cell phone towers vie for space
with ancient pagodas.
Tiny homes of wood and clay brick
huddle around hutong courtyards
in the shadow of forty-story
glass and concrete monoliths.
Stick-stick soldiers dodge
cars on taxi-clogged streets
while shopkeepers squat on their heels
eating steamed buns and fried noodles
in front of hole-in-the-wall booths
selling the latest DVDs.
The second poem describes some of the things we saw in the parks when we strolled through at night or visited in the morning to learn tai chi. Although the title refers to a specific place and time, we saw similar sights in many different places.
Five Snapshots
People’s Park, Luoyang 7:00 AM
1
With mop and water
he inscribes elegant calligraphy.
It disappears in sunlight
before the poem is finished.
No matter.
It was what it was while it was.
2
Arm draws back, whip cracks.
A subtle caress of the lash
sets the top spinning
and everything pauses
to breathe.
3
Fans snap open, edges fluttering
like petals in wind.
The women sit with one fluid motion
legs crossed, fans beside faces
moving sculptures in morning light.
4
Side together side touch
turn and bow, arms like branches.
The line bobs and sways in perfect unison
as breeze asks grass
to join the dance.
5
Concentrate, gather power
from ground to crown.
Flow, balance, strength and ease
converge at the
still center.
The final piece refers to the terra cotta warriors in Xi'an and Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi, the Yellow Emperor, who tried to rule the afterlife with his army of soldier statues.
Parable
Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi placed bamboo-inscribed reports on scales
and read until he had digested a predetermined weight of knowledge
to manage the far corners of his empire.
His Great Wall filled gaps between the defenses
of the warring states he had united.
Canals and calligraphy further tied the kingdom together.
The Yellow Emperor searched for the Elixir of Life
in the three Sacred Mountains of the Sea
would not hear the word “death” and followed Dragon Veins
from sky to mountain peaks and down
until he found the spot where earth’s energy
met heaven’s spirit
and created harmonious balance.
Qin Shi Huangdi, determined to rule after as he had ruled before
built an underground palace filled with soldiers, horses, chariots,
cranes, geese and swans, acrobats and mirrors
placed within four walls
guarded by four towers
facing the four cardinal points.
Constellations glittered and quicksilver rivers flowed.
Candles were lit to burn for eternity and
crossbows armed to slay invaders.
Huangdi and his concubines,
and the artisans forbidden to reveal the secrets of the tomb
lay for two thousand years
guarded by a hundred thousand terra cotta troops
until a farmer digging a well achieved what
no army had accomplished.
posted by Knit Me A Poem at 12:35 PM
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