East world. Asia.
I met. With Chinese people
In London.
I love them
I worked with them
At their companies
Yes. Good jobs
Beautiful feelings
Chinese friendship
I never forget
The chinese
Hospitality
Amazing
East foods
The Chinese Vendor
A market in Hungary
Hatvan city
I remember an old man
Poor man. Good man
Chinese
He came every weekend
With his suitcase
Full of Chinese products
He sold those
Poor man
But great man
He was a trader
Mentally
Rich man
Business
Man
I sit on a straight back
red vinyl chair
in a Chinese Take Away
waiting for my beef
and black bean sauce,
pork chow mein and a serving
of special fried rice - hear
from behind a beaded rainbow
coloured curtain the sizzle
and spit of hot oil, the constant
sound of a ladle scraping
the sides of a wok, smell
a symphony of smells
that run a river of saliva
across my wanton tongue -
then silence, seconds
seem like minutes until,
“your order is ready sir”,
and at that moment
all the loveliness
of the world becomes
boxed and cradled
in a Lion Dance labelled
take away carry bag.
Note for American readers.
In Australia we use the term
Take Away instead of Take Out.
Same thing. Not sure of the term
used in the UK or elsewhere.
Looking through my window
Children playing around with slops
Dogs cats cows... singing in their own right
Trees mingling with the wind songs of praise
Some off to the bush for food,
Who the LION is none of their business
Africa Seems free.
On the streets shouting carrying screaming
Jesus Muhammad...
Working for heaven eden
Back home they cant spare a bean for their Neighbor!
but they speak in tongues....
Africa Seems free.
In class speaking French English Chinese....
speaking in your own right is a crime,
Poles day Pastor Sheik Bishop "vote your own"
Women in different skins long hair
Men in ear rings...
Africa Seems free.
Africa Seems free
while speaking French English Chinese...
while deep in religion of the Occidental and Oriental
while you eating screaming shouting... voting your own!
Are we free?
Are you free?
Are they free?
The dainty walk of Chinese women
beyond the Wall in olden days
was due to cruel and unusual punishment
confined and constrained by strange customary ways
victims of fashion prisoners of fad
small feet were in sadly big were bad
forced to wear a pair of lotus shoes
very small baby steps were all they took
altho' it wasn't until 1912 or so
when the girls were finally let off the hook
back then 'pon seeing his new-born daughter
especially when she cried
a Chinaman was bound to say
'Those toes are fit to be tied.'
Fingertips
fall—
not like
stones,
but like rain,
plucked silver
threading the air.
Each string
holds a hush,
a breath not yet
forgotten.
The musician builds—
not a score,
but the curve
of a heron’s wing
skimming dusk
softly vanishing
in a single glissando.
The guzheng does not speak.
It spills:
vibrato,
a tide rising
then breaking
against memory.
Sound leans back—
not toward silence
——but toward a
distant shore
we once
heard.
________________
Note: Guzheng is a traditional Chinese musical instrument.
Seal the mountains, the peaks, the city—
The little emperor rides waves like in Shanghai Bund.
In the end, the man who loved beauty became a rifle.
Where is the man-made bathing pool atop that mountain?
The princely courage, allies in accord,
Carried martial genes, shamanic rhythms,
Carried cells of herbs and discipline, anti-entropy.
Like Zhang Xianzhong sinking treasure into the Min River—his final aesthetic.
He believed only in genetic revenge,
Mocking blossoms, young girls, and green plums in May.
Some tradition loved empire but mistook beauty.
It collapsed in his beautiful feed for the kingdom.
A sliver of beauty—madness moved in,
A sprite watered by greed,
Denied by earth and the abyss’s breath.
( Poems by Shifeimi
Translated from Chinese by AI with authorial editing and final approval.)
i’ve heard of the year of the rooster but 2025—is the year of the kookoo
Its style is a journey for my mind
providing a world onto itself
with miles to meander
and crevasses to explore
with paths to follow
allowing my soul to wander
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on April 25, 2025 for contest YOUR CHOICE V sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 8TH
"When the winds of change blow, some people build walls, while others build windmills."
Sleep tight, my child dear.
Mother is here, nothing to fear.
If the child snatcher, comes at our steps.
I will stab him with my own hands.
~Byeol
Within the scorpion's belly,
mother's blood is the meal.
I wonder,Is that's why scorpion is poisonous?
But be the lamb of sheep or the child of scorpion,Both are young sprouts.
I wonder, so does the scorpion taste "sweetness that linger on tongue,
A piercing pain in the throat, the soul torn apart".
~Byeol
With the thousands troop, I the general stride.
Below the land of ancestors pride.
Where dragon soars and tiger leaps with might.
For this, my sword tainted with river of blood.
Bears felony's weight , a mountain heavy tide.
My heart a rock, no regret, no shame reside.
~Byeol
------------------------------------------------------------
Land of ancestors: homeland
Dragon soars and tiger leaps: showing powerful prospering nation
Biting back at dragon's scale,
I run through the weapons crossing like chaotic clouds flying past.
The mighty sword rise in air,
Only to drown in sin so deep.
My hands stained with blood so red,
Root betrayed.
Blood of kin,
A price I have paid.
Heaven's cry, in torrent rage.
~Byeol
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Biting back at dragon scale: symbolises act of going against the emperor
Root betrayed: betraying your own family
(From1)
Snowflakes whisper peace, in Frozen air,
Echoes of battle, comrade beyond repair.
(Form2)
Alone I stand, in snowy vastness wide,
Blood- soaked memories, my comrade demise.
(Form3)
Before me, snow's pure silence deep,
Behind crimson shadows, comrades sleep.
~Byeol
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