Under the highway, as traffic rumbles upon its route along one of the main arteries of the city, I sit. Removed from the constant motion above, relinquishing the necessity to move towards an indeterminate destination, I listen. Watching; shadows appear and vanish between pillars, daylight casts late afternoon tones. A hundred meters away waters continue upon their constant quest to find the ocean. Beyond them the city resumes, a wall of concrete and a conglomeration of bridges as the Keelung river bends leading off towards Songshan. Continue reading “Urban”
from the boat we watch the city pale, fading into pastel tones, the shadows of dusk. Lights begin to flicker upon the shoreline. On the water candles floating downstream in their evening ceremony; wishes cast upon the sacred waters, flowing in groups or solitude between us and the ghats.
Shadows upon steps, brief sparking flames; splashing oars and silhouettes captured upon the dimming of the day. Soon lights defined the buildings, flicker upon the shoreline, continue, rippled, upon the water their reflections paused and breaking upon the evening traffic, and continue.
Further again the flames of the burning ghats, their endless fires casting smoke upon the passing breezes. The eternal city. This place cast fluid upon the passing of time, timeless and ethereal where we become brief shadows flickering upon the waters, winding through the alleys, the fading self in the shadows of this timeless place.
Tonight the rain.
Earlier a brief rainbow, rising spectral above 101, too vague for film or sensor but bright enough for the elusive eye.
Traffic sprinkles colour upon road and splashes onto pavement – a mother pushes a bike carrying a child, with a blue umbrella, perched sidesaddle upon it.
In the shadows between streetlights and traffic, carriers push their trolleys laden with waste towards payment as buses transport others homeward or towards a lateshift. Continue reading “Hogmany”
Eyes unfocus on familiarity,
where voices slur like passing trains,
here simple words are apt to stray
and John Barleycorn still reigns. Continue reading “drinking song”