FÉLIX CHEONG SENG FEI [17.742] Poeta de Singapur

Félix Cheong Seng Fei

Felix Cheong Seng Fei (1965, Singapur). Escritor y agente cultural singapurense, autor, entre otras obras, de los poemarios Temptation and Other Poems, I Watch the Stars Go Out, Broken by the Rain y Sudden in Youth, del libro de relatos Vanishing Point y de dos volúmenes de flash fiction satírica, con el título Singapore Siu Dai. Ganador en 2000 del Premio al Artista Joven del Año concedido por el National Arts Council de Singapur, es también conferenciante en diversas universidades de todo el mundo.

OBRAS:

Singapore Siu Dai 2: The SG Conversation Upsize! (2014, Ethos Books)

Singapore Siu Dai: The SG Conversation In A Cup (2014, Ethos Books)

Vanishing Point (2012, Ethos Books)

Sudden in Youth: New & Selected Poems (2009, Ethos Books)

The Woman in the Last Carriage (2007, Landmark Books)

The Call from the Crying House (2006, Landmark Books)

Different (2005, Ethos Books)

Idea to Ideal: 12 Singapore Poets on the Writing of their Poems (editor; 2004, Firstfruits)

Broken by the Rain (2003, Firstfruits)

I Watch the Stars Go Out (1999, Ethos Books)

Temptation, and Other Poems (1998, Landmark Books)

POESÍAS

FELIX CHEONG Selección y versión al castellano 

de Teseo Cuadreny y Fátima Fernández-Palacios Parejo

LO QUE SE MUEVE, ES OSCURO

(en memoria de Bob Kane, creador de Batman)

La noche es joven

tras la máscara.

Su corazón está acostumbrado

y cegado por la oscuridad.

Alas extendidas,

se tragará las calles.

Abatiéndose sobre aquellos

cuyas conciencias no pueden dormir.

EXTRAÑÁNDOTE

Te extraño

alba, sueños y polvo,

siempre que me quedo sin palabras

y me arrastro, desdentado y silencioso al fin,

hacia la perrera de tu corazón.

Te extraño

en la privacidad del dolor,

un llanto acurrucado bajo las sábanas,

un beso inacabado

en la distancia.

Y debería extrañarte

cuando no estoy ni aquí ni allí,

ni un fantasma ni una sombra,

más de lo que el amor puede soportar,

más de lo que el tiempo permitirá.

NOTAS PARA UN SUICIDIO

Tengo un hilo

alrededor de las muñecas

y puedo descoserlo

cuando quiera.

Manos liberadas, pulgares cruzados,

dedos como alas agitados,

me he convertido en ese cuervo

que graznaba en mis sueños.

http://www.2384.es/wp-content/uploads/2384-14-5mb.pdf

Missing You

I miss you

dawn, dream and dusk,

whenever my words run out

and crawl, toothless and silent at last

to the kennel of your heart.

I miss you

in the privacy of pain,

a cry tucked beneath sheets,

a kiss unfinished

over distances.

And I shall miss you

when I'm neither here nor there,

neither a ghost nor a shadow,

more than love can endure,

more than time will allow.

Published in Temptation And Other Poems (1998)

What Is It To Write?

(for Anna)

It is not a vacation

from your life

when you weary of meetings and rain,

waiting for the bus

and cursing your luck.

It is a vocation

that curses your life

and can't wait for luck

but must meet head-on

the bus weary and rain.

It is not to scribble

a granted sky

by a tree

in the evening park

with your dog running free.

It is to run the dog inside,

scribble the evening

into the sky and park

your tree between the granted and the free.

Published in Temptation And Other Poems (1998)

Art, for Christ's Sake

Must I be a handmaiden,

the way your Mother was

a page blank as obedience,

on whom you will enact,

with my every breath,

your word to be kept ?

Or must I take on

your crown of thorns,

your wounds in my side,

bearing the world in lines

that shiver like arms

racked across the sky ?

Published in I Watch the Stars Go Out (1999)

Dragnet

The two 18-year-olds who invited the world to watch them lose their virginity online said they were neither 18 nor virgins, and had no plans to have sex together but insisted that their motives had been pure. - The Straits Times, 23rd July 1998

When Christ once tasked

us to put our lives on the line

and be fishers of men,

was this what He meant -

broad-casting the net

with everything we are,

to save, out of still waters,

what went overboard ?

Published in I Watch the Stars Go Out (1999)

I Watch the Stars Go Out

Perhaps love

is a view of stars

through the telescope of years

now aged,

no longer uncommitted

in chosen places,

nor fearful

of that strident moment

when light explodes

into a million shards of heart

Published in I Watch the Stars Go Out (1999)

A Detective Sonnet

Words find no purchase in these streets.

I could wake the silence with a gun

and all the confession worth a buy

is a shrug, a blink of sun.

If only you could see man as I

see him, every tunnel of day

blundering in the blind, a cul-de-sac

through which evil empties its ways,

you would understand why all I want is a woman

whose heart hits me true and right,

and that will be enough --to be here, a stiff

drink warming in her light

and her tears christening my past

when my case is closed at last.

Published in Broken by the Rain (2003)

Broken by the Rain

(for Daniel)

I am broken by the rain,

leaves telling on the fall,

poems I have missed

when I refused to rise up

to the dreaming in their call.

I am broken by the rain,

silence taking to the streets,

the falter and linger

that did not matter once

till my past learns to speak;

neither iron nor names

hewn to the bone,

but the losses I cut

when I know it's due

to call a stone a stone.

Published in Broken by the Rain (2003)

I'll Make This Knife Talk

come any nearer,

and i¹ll make this knife talk,

swear it in your guts, cut you up

and make you dinner

for the dogs,

which is what you are

and where you belong.

you dare say you love me,

knuckles again at the ready?

do you know my small hours

in the park, the small steps

to inch your damage off,

rosary holding down the tremor

in my palms, watching summer children

and their lengthening, laughing shadows

lashing my heart?

no, i am no longer your wife.

i will not put it down.

it is my voice now.

I will not be put down.

Published in Broken by the Rain (2003)

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