This website is an on-line anthology of Dale Chou's poetry. Please read the note on copyright, as it applies to the entire website and its content.
The memo of extratrivial information is available and free of charge.
Latest poem is no. 00187.
This website is an on-line anthology of Dale Chou's poetry. Please read the note on copyright, as it applies to the entire website and its content.
The memo of extratrivial information is available and free of charge.
Latest poem is no. 00187.
Tonight, I see her
Eyes low like cradled smiles --
She is sad because
She does not know.
She is quiet
And remains so --
What a small girl! but
She holds the world
When I listen.
Dale Chou
21.10.2007
I am stone,
A large boulder, perhaps; a dry elk
Of unreflective intent;
An inadvertent man, oak-face
Hollowed, legs stolid and impassive to a
Series of abstract incidents;
A cafe-sitter,
An hour at each; an impatient portrait of
The perfunctory wait -- they are so very late
But it does not matter. Not one bit.
There is no angst
In the antedate (and the bliss above
And the shade of hell
And the dramatic colours of that farewell
After a certain delay...)
Nor in the will to resume, to reanimate
The brows, the eyes, the lips, the cheeks
Of a paler state;
'Tis in this sense the loss was incipient and
Truly inarticulate.
Dale Chou
11.10.2006
I woke up like a desert,
A dry splat nigh the seaboard.
I set myself ashore
With an ache to wash away.
But I was febrile and full of void --
Infinitly porous to
The salinity of that which had invaded
And that which had escaped.
Love, could you not tell? --
I was a butterfly display;
I was mounted against a driftwood
In my achromatic coat.
And through and through
The temerity of my soul,
Another butterfly was tied
To make a temporary knot.
Dale Chou
17.09.2006
Hands! oh sombre hands
How I despise you!
You rise at night
To stretch and grow --
Your wretched shadows,
My caged walls.
A terrible dark room
You've become;
A terrible bad dream
You have made --
The tallest tower of
Despair: spider shapes
High in the air;
The vilest trap of
Sleepless mat: snakes
And ivies intertwined.
But above all the
Things I fear,
It is the coming
Of the day --
The day is near
And all is gone --
The silent sky,
My soundless hands.
Dale Chou
15.09.2006
She perched on my words;
Stole sleep from my hands.
When she flew away
She made an island.
And I her island's branch:
Always hopeful.
Dale Chou
17.11.2005