More Selected Poems

Phuong Le, Vietnam

1. The Roads (2009) The big road
In this town
Lined with posh cars.
Shiny and modern.
      The small road
      In my town
      Full of potholes
      Scattered everywhere.
            The pavement
            In this city
            Welcomes big dogs
            Wearing pretty bows.
                  The pavement
                  In my town
                  Chats with peddlars
                  Dreaming of nice meals.
                              And I am
                              Sitting here,
                              Feeling deep blues:
                              A stranger in town.

2. Heroism (2010

Fidgeting with a new medal,
The medal of heroism,
She does not see it.
A song dedicated to her,
The song about heroism,
She does not hear it.
Speeches given in extolment
The words of profound gratitude,
She does not feel it.
Blankly looking in the distance,
The woman murmured to herself
‘Where are you, my sons?’

3. The Typhoon (2010)

The typhoon
Went past
Raging away
Houses and trees.

      The typhoon
            Has gone.
            But you.
            Never return.
In my class,
This morning.
An empty chair.

4. Sand and salt (2010)

Tourists praise
The beauty of sand.
Poets extol
The necessity of salt.
My children’s backs
Bent with heavy salt.
Their feet hurt
With burning sand.
Silently I sopped.
And truly wondered
Where is that beauty
Of sand and salt?

5. The Vietnamese mother (2010)

Bent on the ricefields
From dawn to dusk.
Buried herself
In tolerance and hardships.
Toiling around
For fees and foods.
Up in the cold
Down in the dark.
Waking up one morning.
The mother smiles
“My children have grown up!”
Waking up one morning
The children realise.
“Her spring has gone by.”

6. Globalisation (2010)

Tourists                  Local people
Chatting                  Standing
Eating                  Watching
Laughing                  Thinking
         Globalisation?

7. Ideal nature (2010)

Ducks, cats, dogs and goats,
Chasing on the dusty road.
      Optimal friendship.

Cows, ducks, sheep and dogs,
Playing in the morning fog.
      Freedom at its best.

8. Destitute (2010)

Small tears.
   Deep wrinkles.
      Traces of time.
            Lifelong sufferings.
                  Carved into the old man.
                        Squatting by the road.
                              In the sunset.
                                    Destitute.
                                          Haunts me.

9. An old man laments (2010)

Rain,
Come quickly!
We are thirsty.
Rice,
Grow quickly!
We are hungry.
Cows,
Grow quickly!
We need the milk.

Trees,
Grow quickly!
We need the shades.
      Boys,
Grow quickly!
This country
Needs you.

10. Development (2010)

Huts: old, low and cold.
Ducks lying with goats.
On the dusty roads.
      Rubbish: scattering.
Old women: squatting.
Old men: murmuring.
Lonely by the brook,
Eyes bent on a book,
With a focused look.
A teenage school girl:
An eager weaver,
Of the bright future.

11. The world of silence (May 2012)

I have come here,
To visit the graves
Of nameless soldiers,
Bowing to them all,
In straight lines-
Grey and identical.

They were once young -
Eighteen, nineteen or twenty –
They will never grow old now.
War is always brutal.
And even more so with them,
Killing all the bright dreams
Of these young people
Abruptly.

I have come here,
Silent in their presence.
Words fail me,
And many things
I thought important
Have become
Insignificant
In this cemetery.

12. Pavement (May 2012)

The world is immense
But it can be small too,
as on a pavement.

Food is cooked and clothes soaked.
Football is watched and stories told.
Bikes are fixed and circuses shown.
Crying, shouting, calling, singing.
Sleeping, yawning, reading, learning.
A world in miniature.

13. Father and daughter (July 2012)

The father felt proud,
Carrying his child to the exam room.
Tears on the cheeks,
Smiles on the face
Of a man
Who never has a day of schooling.
The child felt happy,
Participating in the university exam.
Tears on the cheeks,
Smiles on the face
Of a girl
Who never has the legs of her own.

14. Bowls of noodles * (Dec. 2012)

Bowls of noodles,
Steaming hot.
Hungry eyes.
Happy smiles.
Serious lessons
Food for the mind,
Bowls of noodles
A delight to find.
On the hillside
Pupils’ flying kites
Bowls of noodles
To dream of tonight.

* Inspired by Phan Ngọc Thanh, a school headmaster in Cai Be (Tien giang) who started a program giving instant noodles for lunch to school children who live far from school.

15. Soldiers of yesterday * (Dec. 2012)

Numerous songs
Forceful speeches
Glorious shrines
Extol fallen soldiers
And invalids of war.

He cannot sing
Nor can he praise
But he silently seeks
Soldiers of yesterday
wandering on a hillside,
in a deserted cemetery,
near a dirty landfill.

Soldiers of yesterday,
shouting angrily,
cheering fervently,
or talking nonsense -
but not to anybody
in this world.

Sad or happy,
shameless or fearless,
they seem to be,
in their own world
- a distant world
with lives unknown
and stories untold
they can never unfold.

He took them home
The one-time soldiers
But now forgotten
Even by themselves.

He took them home
the one-time comrades,
now his brothers,
to what was once
- his home
but now it is
- their home too.
.
* Inspired by Mr. Phạm văn Nhẫn (Hà Nam), a veteran who brings homeless insane veterans home to take care of.

16. I dream the dreams (Sept 18, 2013)

I’ve read in newspapers:
A little boy killed his grandma for a few dollars to play computer games.
Reckless traffickers sold teenagers to be sex slaves to sickly tycoons.
Brutal husbands hammered, burned or tortured their wives to death.
Silly youngsters sold their own kidneys for the latest I-phones.
Singers chose to show off not their voices but bodies instead.

I’ve seen on television:
Skinny kids walking barefooted to their classroom badly leaked.
Old people swaying on a rope across a rough river to markets.
Needy families living in empty sewers or sheltering under the bridge.
Hungry children fighting over scrums of food in a mountain landfill.
Hopeless peasants leaving their farms to look in vain for odd jobs.

I’ve heard on the radio:
Corrupt authorities pinched money off national flood relief while loudly
boasting of false promises and blazing lies.
Extravagant tycoons spent a fortune on card games and debauched
models who preferred stripping to working.
Employment is obtained with dollars, rather than expertise or skills so
‘job vacancies’ are seldom genuine.
Waste chemicals are released into springs and sausages made from
cardboard paper, rotten hens and sick pigs.

I don’t want to believe:
A father’s dropped dead his new born baby in a rage.
Qualifications of all kinds could be bought like fish or vegetables.
Doctors operated on the right lung when the pain was on the left.
Serious accidents killed numerous people every few minutes.
Innocent workers and children sent to hospital for food poisoning.
And I dream of a world:
where corrupt authorities are the first ones to be fired and business people
consider consumers their close friends and beloved folks.
where hospitals are like nice clean hotels and patients warmly welcome
and well taken care of.
where passengers can enjoy a sound sleep or easily find a clean restroom
on strenuous long-distance bus trips.
where children can play in the park with friends, carefree as birds
singing merrily on luxuriant trees.
And I dream of a day:
when politicians do what they preach and their promises once made
would be realized .
when passers-by can stop by at any street food shops, feeling it safe to
relish whatever’s sold.
when newly built roads are not in constant need of serious repair as soon
as they are completed.
when trust and honesty is more valued than money, power and flattery
so people can greet each other happily in the street.
But I keep wondering:
whether these are just silly aspirations and trivial thoughts of mine
or are they essential things to human life that we all truly need ?
will they ever come true or we can never can them however hard we search
because I’m just a fanatic day dreamer in a chaotic world?

17. To My Daughter (March 2014)

Mommy reads to you
About the world
You would some day
Discover with interest.
Mommy reads to you
About kings and queens
Oceans and forests
With creatures that talk
In those fairy tales.
Mommy is learning to write
Stories that you will read
Just like the real good seeds
To grow in your pure soul.

Mommy dreams to see
One day when you grow up
You write marvelous stories
And readers can’t wait to read
Whatever you can write.

18. Lullabies (March 2014)

Just like many years ago
When I lulled you to sleep
With those melodious lullabies
That I’ve learnt well by heart.
I’m now singing those lullabies
To send you to this eternal sleep
As you’re lying there in peace,
I’m praying for my peace at heart.

19. Father and Son (March 2014)

I’m learning to write
The same way you learn to walk.
We share the same curiosity
About the world
That you see with your eyes
And I feel with my heart.
I wrote and got stuck.
As nothing really made sense.
So I threw away the pen.
Having no intention to do it again.
I watched you walk and tumble,
You were bruised and felt the pain.
You cried but managed to get up.
Each time you tripped and fell.
And there I found a great lesson
That I seemed to nearly forget.
So I took the pen and started again.
***
I’m teaching you how to walk
But you’re teaching me how to live.

20. If there are big waves, please call me first Daddy* (June, 2014)

Inspired by a letter from a daughter (aged 8), to her father, a marine policeman in Paracel Penninsula

If horrible waves rage in the East Sea,
If massive typhoons pose serious threats,
If tyranny is what you have to face.
Be sure to call me first, Daddy.
I’d like to be the very first to hear,
I’d like to be the very first to know,
I’d like to be the very first to share,
I’d like to be the very first to care,
Be it early morning or late at night.
Be it when I’m at home or in my class.
Be it when I’m in low or high spirits.
I’ll surely welcome all those calls from you.
Huge storms and savage waves are disastrous.
And despicable are those enemies
So for many nights you've remained sleepless.
and I've been awake in support of you.
Don't be sad for you can't be home with us.
Since you're always here in our hearts and minds.
So if ever real dangers emerge,
Be sure to call me first, Daddy.

21. Not a world with fairy tales (Aug 2014)

My country is not one with many fairy tales.
But it's full of real life stories
Of street vendors who share their income
To help soldiers in disadvantaged islands.
Of veterans who go round bringing
Mentally ill people home to feed
Of white-haired mothers for years on end
Travelling in search for their sons’ remains.

My country has no Nobel prizes to boast of.
Nor can it ever touch any Oscar awards.
Nor did it break a single Olympic record.
But it's imbued with stories seldom recorded
Of common people whose life experience
Is carved into the hearts of those who know them.

22. One more time (Nov, 2014)

Heat up all the joys we have had.
Beat all the misunderstandings.
Remove those sorrows and regrets.
Add moments of sweet memories
Stir endless days of happiness.
Pour much care and smiles into life.
Bake a super cake of friendship.
and cool ourselves with blissful love

23. Nowhere else is there so much rain (13 Nov, 2014)

Nowhere else is there so much rain.
It showers loudly on the metal roof.
It continues on for months on end.
It pours down cold torrents of water.
On shaking peddlers' selling snacks.
On pale kids with their teeth rattling.
On old backs bent on heavy uphill rides.
On skinny street children seeking shelters.

As persistent as red basalt mud
It wraps the town in a dark gray outfit.
Lending a dull and gloomy atmosphere
A prolonged melancholy lingering in the air.

In the heavy curtain of the persistent rain
appear and disappear shadows: big and small
in thin raincoats and helmets moving around
in solemn silence and sheer tolerance.

24. Smoke (13 Nov, 2014)

Smoke from village huts
Smells of nostalgic home meals.
Smoke from harvested fields.
Smells of happy bump crops.
Smoke from burning jungles.
Smells of nature in deep pain.
Smoke from unfriendly factories.
Smells of danger and sicknesses.
Smoke from young people’s hands.
Smells of death and destruction
To generations to come.

25. An old woman selling rose petals (13 Nov, 2014)

An old woman selling rose petals.
Bringing others beautiful smiles
Keeping wrinkles and tears to herself
An old woman selling rose petals
Sharing good fragrance to many lives.
Keeping hardships and sweats to herself
An old woman selling rose petals.
Providing satisfaction to passers-by.
Keeping secret sorrows to herself.
An old woman selling rose petals.
Bringing bright lights to many eyes.
Keeping darkness and plights to her life.

26. Rain (13 Nov, 2014)

Rain.
Farm and plantations feel fresh: Smiling
Models and tycoons feel pleased: Sipping wine
Students and farmers feel relieved: Enjoying time
Retired couple feel odd: Wearing tights

Rain.
Lonely women feel sad: Saying goodbye
Jobless workers feel mad: Heaving sighs
Streets and alleys feel wet: Complaining.
Deserted children feel lost: Shouting, "What a life!"

27. How did it happen? (15 Nov, 2014)

How was the story of the earth told?
How did the stars then come then go?
How did human life begin on the globe?
How did we come to live together this old?

The earth was formed in an amazing way.
The stars came into life in beautiful shapes.
Human life started in those distant days.
We came to know and love for our own sake.

Let’s enjoy our life before it is too late.
Let’s live the days so remorse has no place.
Let’s share happiness so sorrows have no say.
Let’s love each other for it is our fate.

28. The comedian (Feb 25, 2015)

Stage lights shone and curtains pulled.
The boxer who looked really cool.
Posed for photos from head to toe.
Showing medals lying in rows
Audience roared with long laughter
Showering him with fresh flowers.
They all seemed filled with pleasure.

When show ended, he was in clinic.
His malaria made him really sick.

Lights were on and music was played.
Miss Beauty Queen appeared on stage.
Her sparkling outfit was a flaw.
Fake crown came from a local store.
Spectators shouted out "Hurray!"
Giving him mementoes to take.
Gorgeous smiles were seen on their face.

The show was over; he hurried to court.
His wife was waiting for a divorce.

Stage lights were on and curtains up.
The diva with a huge prize cup.
Gave a funny lip sync display
Those popular hits of the day.
Crazy fans broke into applause.
To show that they truly adored.
This joy never happened before.

The show was over; he felt quite low.
His father had just got a stroke.

In solitude, he was pensive.
His life is never that easy.
Sweet moments squeezed by deeper fears
Short-lived smiles drowned in bitter tears.
All pains hidden and trauma buried.
Yet a comedian he has chosen to be.

29. Nothing new (March, 27, 2015)

He's back
to the once battlefield
where he was
years ago.

Lots of trees.
Lots of sunshine.
Lots of wind.
"Where are you?"
He murmured,
looking for his comrades.

He heard their laughter
in the forest.
He saw their faces
in the sunshine.
He felt their warmth
in the wind.
He sat there.
For hours.
immersed himself
in their world.

That night.
He- the old general
couldn't sleep.