Poem by Cyril Wong

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          LANDING

What death may be: a slow, close-to-weightless
tilt, like a burgeoning foetus turning
slightly in the womb. The engine starts a low
growl like a stomach, the aircraft hungry to
land, to devour the space between its
falling body and the ground, followed by
the slow lick of its wheels against the runway’s
belly: pressing down, then skating forward,
only to decelerate, a sensual slow-mo,
and the plane makes a sound
like the hugest sigh of relief.

The seatbelt sign blinks off for the final time.
We rise up from our seats like souls
from bodies, leaving bulky hand luggage
in the overhead compartments, then
begin a tense line down the aisle, awkwardly
smiling at each other, remaining few minutes
alive with all kinds of ambivalences,
or simply relief at having arrived, at long last,
in that no-time zone of a country
without a name except the ones we give it;
weeping, laughing, both at once.


     --from Unmarked Treasure
     (2006)

      How cool it is to discover a great poet launched far into the raging torrent of life, crossing on a sure and steady horse. Describes how I felt when I recently discovered the writings of Cyril Wong, a Singaporean poet whose work has been lauded by the likes of Cole Swensen and Anne Waldman. The above poem is from the book Unmarked Treasure,which won the Singapore Literature Prize for 2006. Cyril is a courageous man...I can't imagine it's easy being a gay writer in Singapore's oppressive moral climate. But I'm not into tokenistic admiration...nor Tolkienistic admiration...hobbits are just alright with me. This poet simply writes good poems...and check out his mesmerizingly designed website...more goodies there...it's http://www.cyrilwong.com/Htms/gallery.htm