2009/1/31

Cento of Metaflora

(Madeleine) 


Moments scud in the blueness

 

This early frost on the word

 

What is it with a woman

 

But within the moment of my eye

 

The night is but a tympanum

 

As the moment and its meaning

 

I look but do not see

 

It soothes me with a soft grey hum

 

A hand of something other

 

On that small desk in my mind

 

I cannot see, I do not know

 

To slit the coat of dark

 

Lips pressed against my lips

 

On a day like any other

 

Of his lover’s finger’s making

 

And the stream of morning dreams

 

In thick rice snow

 

Perhaps I could change places?

 

And you wander in the season

 

But the early frost of words is

 

Not that you would ever know

 

It’s when I move, we move apart

 

The hissing of summer lawns, and

 

Almost kissed the very floor

 

It’s odd that when you wake up

 

Someone always turns them off


2009/1/30

失重

(黃懷琰)

冇咩好講

(黃懷琰)

零九‧二月詩會‧一起和廖偉棠說詩

時間 Time:2009/2/22 (Sun) 5:00pm-6:00pm

地點 Venue:油麻地 Kubrick

主持 Moderators:Florence Ng、Polly Ho、Wong Wai Yim

詩人來賓 Guest Poet: 廖偉棠


廖偉棠給人的印象是同時俱創造力和組織力的作家,是詩人,又是攝影師和雜誌編輯,文學獎項多不勝數,遍及香港、台灣和馬來西亞。 曾出版詩集《永夜》﹑《隨著魚們下沉》﹑《花園的角落,或角落的花園》、《手風琴裏的浪遊》、《波希米亞行路謠》、《苦天使》、《少年游》、《黑雨將至》,最新詩集《和幽靈一起的香港漫遊》在2009年1月出版。


《和幽靈一起的香港漫遊》是廖偉棠最新的一本在香港出版的詩集,也是他第一本完全以香港為書寫對象的詩集。第一輯「幽靈的地志學」中,詩人和香港近現代歷史上一些著名或無名的幽靈一起,遊走在香港的大街小巷中,或感懷舊事、或憤慨當下、或喃喃虛構那些逼真的未來。第二輯「不失者的街道圖」,全部立足香港現實的人和事,文字或慰籍或勉勵,甚至是戰鬥的檄文,支持著「另一個香港」的掙扎者的存在。第三輯「未隱士的島嶼記」則漂離於香港的「離島」上,找尋生活的另類可能。


為什麼廖偉棠有如此豐富的創造力?為什麼他能把生活所感、音樂、社會問題通通都寫進詩句中?他是否在挑戰詩的包容性?二月詩會我們一起和廖偉棠說詩。

Michael Holland's collection of poems

Thread Golden

 

In the fabric of the night

A golden thread grew fearsome bright

 

A blazing thread whose needle true

Touched my heart by passing through,

 

An unseen hand allows it flight

To pass again into the night

 

I cannot see, I do not know

Where the hand and she will go




Passport


I look but do not see

The little book

That is me,

I look but do not find

The list that I have lost

And I am here alone

For those I love have gone

Alone I count the cost


護照 (Chinese translation by Polly Ho)


我望但沒看

那本小書

那是我,

我望但找不到

我遺失的那張名單

我獨個兒在這裡

因為我所愛的都已離去

我獨個兒計算那代價



Yang and Yin


In our home there’s too much Yang

Which springs up from its morning bed


And in out home there’s too much Yin

Not that you would ever know


陽和陰


在我們家中有太多的陽

由早晨的床躍起


以及在我們家中有太多的陰

你永不會知道




Elements


What is it with a woman

When her body turns to flame,

And how to catch that fire

In the coolness of a name?



Ah, to be Zheng, words like water!

Lips, liquescent, laughter

And those shimmering wings

‘Folded in a loose shirt’. 


My black-eared kite

Cannot fall from grace

For she doesn’t know her airy loft

Or her point in space.


Perhaps I am content

To fall upon design:

We both make what we can and will

While we have the time




**The quoted line is from the poem “Wings of Summer” by Zheng Danyi




Left to Write


The night is but a tympanum

My toes are mallets and 

I might as well be Sousa

When he’s striking up the band


I had wanted pen and paper

For that quick trip in the night

To find some light to think by

And a nook in which to write


But my timid tipping toe

Just met that wooden tile

Whose fragile back chose to crack 

And echo for a mile


And the glass my fingers tickled

On that table in the gloom

Has met its fate and shall await

Its meeting with the broom


And my wife pretends she is asleep 

And I pretend it too

For to wake her in this manner 

Is a terrible thing to do


So finally with pen in hand

And sanctuary and light

Comes the moment I discover 

I have nothing left to write

 



Archangel


The lady in the lift,

When I gingerly inquired,

Said she hadn’t been herself for days

And that she has been tired


The taxi driver, too,

With his pedal to the floor,

Had drifted off in Cantonese

Then began to snore


And the people of the city

Were caught or so it seems

In the fullness of their coffee

And the steam of morning dreams


But the lady in the corner shop

Began to speak to me

Of Han and Qin and early Wei

Of Zhou and Shang and Qi


And in the canter of her voice

A Tang horse made of clay

Hung in dust of Tang kilns fired

In breath of yesterday


Now we keep a darkware vase,

A Ming whose mirror glaze 

Reflects on what we are today

And were in ancient days


And when I say we ‘keep’ it

Really it keeps us

As stewards of moments

From which we quickly pass 



A Good Time Had by All


Last night I got quite blithered,

Though I think I can’t be sure,

But the words I spouted roughly 

Loosely splashed about the floor


And at 2 o’clock I think it was 

I spat them out again

As I rattled packet reason

In the railing of the wind


Then all the words I’d ever known

Marched steadfast out the door

To disown their spattered utterer 

And leave him feeling sore


And the thoughts that did attend them

With their noses in the air 

Left the scene quite smartly

Leaving all the stools quite spare


And the fool who’s spoken most

And almost kissed the very floor

Was the fool whose very drinking

Left his head so bloody sore


And the fool that uttered words

That he has uttered all the time

Was the one who drained the dregs

From the glass that I call mine.


Rhyme Comes Before Words





(Polly Ho)


Despite the fact that it is the eve of Chinese New Year, almost the same number of regular audience came to the Kubrick Poetry. My worry soothed away when I saw the old and new faces. 


Our guest poet, Michael Holland, came from Australia and has been living in Hong Kong for 10 years with his family. Metaflora is his first published collection of poems. He also authored other books, such as the Art of English, Craft of English, etc. He is the editor of the Heinemann Australian dictionary. Metaflora is a written over the eight years he lived in Hong Kong and the theme centre memory, identity and language.


Before the Kubrick poetry event, Michael wrote in response to Victor’s comment on the website that he writes his poems in iambic form. “Iambic poems often have variations in which the trochee and other stress patterns occur.The poems are different: you can see iambic feet used in the poem ‘Inside’.” I asked Michael to explain how he applies the iambic form in his poem writing to the audience. He then read the poem “Recession” and explained that “Recession” uses trochees to begin the most lines. The initial stress is to excite and surprise the readers. 


/Mo-ments scud in the blueness
/None can be creased or folded away
For /thought-ful use another day
...
/Speckled pearl and cinnamon
/Caught as the sun catches things
...

“Rhyme comes before words.” Michael further said. He does not intend to make his poem rhythm, instead the music of the words comes to his mind before any word is written down. Victor amazingly exclaimed that Michael’s idea of rhyme is in accord with TS Eliot’s theory. 

The poem “Thread Golden” is written for his dear daughter Amelia and Amelia read the poem herself in the presence of all the audience with her pure voice. 


Thread Golden

 

In the fabric of the night

A golden thread grew fearsome bright

 

A blazing thread whose needle true

Touched my heart by passing through,

 

An unseen hand allows it flight

To pass again into the night

 

I cannot see, I do not know

Where the hand and she will go


Madeleine read the Cento that she did for Michael’s book launch in December in Fringe Club. She picked the favourite line of every poem in his book. There are altogether 26 poems, thus, 26 lines. Needless to rearrange the order, the lines already make another meaningful poem. 

I translated two short poems into Chinese for our Chinese readers. This is my first attempt to do poetry translation. I must thank the literary translator Mr Huang Canran for correcting my mistake. 


Passport


I look but do not see

The little book

That is me,

I look but do not find

The list that I have lost

And I am here alone

For those I love have gone

Alone I count the cost


護照


我望但沒看

那本小書

那是我,

我望但找不到

我遺失的那張名單

我獨個兒在這裡

因為我所愛的都已離去

我獨個兒計算那代價



Yang and Yin


In our home there’s too much Yang

Which springs up from its morning bed


And in out home there’s too much Yin

Not that you would ever know


陽和陰


在我們家中有太多的陽

由早晨的床躍起


以及在我們家中有太多的陰

你永不會知道


Michael’s poetry gathered us together on the eve of the Chinese New Year before we went home for the traditional dinner that every Chinese valued. Warmth filled the air and rhythm vibrated in the heart of the audience when the Kubrick poetry ended. 

(photos by Paul Wan)

2009/1/15

下雨是下雨

(心慰)

下雨是下雨,回家的路是回家的路,馬路是馬路,便利店是便利店,郵箱是麗怡的郵箱,椅子是轉角的椅子,天空是天空,公園是公園,公園的椅子是公園的椅子,馬路是馬路,大馬路是大馬路,便利店是買菸的便利店,眼睛是眼睛,下雨是下雨,回家的路不是那天回家的路,馬路不是那時的馬路,便利店不是有我買菸的便利店,轉角椅子不再是那時那張轉角的椅子,天空是天空,天空下不是天空下,公園不是公園,公園的椅子不是我們坐的公園的椅子,馬路是馬路,下雨還是下雨

29.12.08

從2008攀上2009

(Florence Ng)

我們向上走往
倒數的區域
我們看著箭頭的方向
在拐角處審視推敲
我們觀察人羣的取向
結果只是為了能夠往上走
我們終於到達了
卻只是見到由金色紙條
粗糙地拼湊的四個數字
啊,純粹的數字──
既不挑釁
也不賜予

------

人群都高舉照相機
我也舉起照相機
人群都向上望
我也向上望
隔一會兒,人群會在喉頭蘊發一陣騷動
而我,我也跟著
我們都高度興奮
如同疤痕歌頌斷肢
影取悅風

09年1月7日

2009/1/14

喝咖啡的日子

(呂麗珊)

餐桌上的咖啡還冒著煙
在我們的對話完結之前

低頭攪拌著黑漆漆的咖啡
純白的匙子沾滿了顏色
要加點糖嗎 你說
我猶豫了一會
說早忘記咖啡加了糖的味道
糖和咖啡會起著怎樣的化學作用呢

咖啡室的玻璃隔著外面的空氣
你說加拿大的氣溫比香港還要冷
雪景原不屬於冬天的顏色

杯的熱燙差點融化手套裡無力的指尖
我呷著最後一口咖啡
牽一牽嘴角
笑著說
嗯 味道剛好
6/1/2009