Curl by Bryan Drayang van Rijswijk

Delhi Dogs

Bryan Drayang van Rijswijk

You’re supposed to
Growl and snarl,
Swirl in the fetid dust,
Attack uncalled in packs
Leaving rabid punctures
In the rickshaw’s heels.
Drip unhindered
Lactating teats on
Squalid pavement seats.

Not like,
Although a little thin,
The one on its back
At my soiled feet
And the other
Tucked under my arm,
On the stone step,
A trusting companion,
An old karmic connection,
Sharing Karachi’s
Finest sweets.

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Claw

(Excerpt from The Torn Arc)
Bryan Drayang van Rijswijk

It’s a clear,
Calm day.
Cradled by
A pre dawn
Crystal sky.
The birdsong
Crisp.
This windscreen
Wet on
The inside
And the outside.
Those shattered
Headlights
Are blinding
Me.
Something
Is scratching
And pulling
My heart
And I don’t
Know where
It’s coming
From

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Garuda Glide by Bryan Drayang van Rijswijk

Garuda Glide

Bryan Drayang van Rijswijk

Fly gently
Now,
Snake in
Your mouth

Wing tips
Empty
Over blue
Sky

Gold
Eyes
Across
Everything

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Fabriano

Bryan Drayang van Rijswijk

The vlei, already
Has a sort of summer feel.
The still pliant, but bleached grasses
Swaddling one’s calves
And the skipping water’s surface, soft.
The spongy sogginess of the ground gone.
Loose granules of sand
And the odd dandelion of dust.
A tangle of neglected fishing gut
Ensnaring the plastic polluted
Lapped bank.
A ‘white rabbit’ sweet lying there,
Dropped from a shorts pocket,
Subtended by a new impulse.
The enamel-yellow jungle gym.
An old watercolour, with cracked glass.

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Candyfloss Daisies by Bryan Drayang van Rijswijk

Neon Springboard

Bryan Drayang van Rijswijk

The sleek Sun ascends;
Seeps through the dappled
Luminous apple-green leaves.
Warmth fills one –
Golden nectar in
A bejewelled cup.
Light makes me
Swim;
Amongst verdant
Flowers
Candyfloss pastel
True
Shades.

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Shine Softly by Bryan Drayang van Rijswijk

Quantum Increment

Bryan Drayang Van Rijswijk

It’s nearly evening.
The earlier glare
Cautiously graduates
To a softer hue.
The rider of light
Resting in the silhouetted saddle.
The gentler rays’
Tender tendrils reaching out
Into the sensuously swaying
Fields bedded in grasses green.
Cerise heather flowers,
The light dances on their ears
A butterfly orchestra of shimmer.

The distant headland flickers
Under the probing
Local lighthouse beam.
Still there
Like love,
Far, far away.

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Murmurs of Her

Bryan Drayang Van Rijswijk

Sitting, to sit
Amongst the round brown boulders.
Loaves of freshly baked crisp bread golden
In the cloistered sun.
Dusted with coarse caked layers of salt.
Little hollows filled like creme brolle.
Sticky, yes too.
An occasional insurgent surge of sea wrinkles the miniscus of crystal ball,
Visage of phlegmatic fish,
Starfish red coral in colour
And washed fine pink shells,
Over feet wetted to the slinky ankles.
The ring lightly stings and tingles.
Her moon disc face waves a smile and thrice it is heard he said he saw this.

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