Welcome to something we’re calling Bloc Features. It will be a collection of some of the finest work from literary journals from Australia and abroad as well as extracts from debut novelists. On top of this, we’re also going to be selecting one piece each month from our workshop to sit alongside these wonderful stories.

And to kick it all off, we’re proud to share with you a suite of poems from Allen Qing Yuan, originally published in Poetry Pacific.



China Charm: For Yuan Lai


Blood-red intertwined thread of life

Passing through a shadowed low point


The lid, lukewarm, dulled and dusty

Inside the glass of time

A five-year-old grain of rice

Remains odorless and recognisable


With it, a petite pretty green blue flower

Flourishing without air,

Its potential limited by its surroundings.


In scripted onto the smooth

Yellow-tinged surface of the rice

Are yuan qing, my Chinese name

Looking like two Taoist drawings

It is a single small grain,

But I never forget the wide summer fields


Swaying back and forth without a creak or swish

It hangs high on the high lamp head

Much like the dreams of China in my head

A Charming charm indeed


Restrained but living

Living but not thriving.



Every Youthful Moment


Paving his own

Road, never backing



He does what he wants,

How he wants,

When he wants,

Making the light shine.


He has faith


The future

                                      He’s facing towards.


Enjoying the golden age,

Remembering every page,

Of his life,

Written or unwritten,

He gives it his all, hoping he will not



Every youthful moment.



Chasing the Pacific Star


Air gyres crowd into the boy

As he dashes through the clouds of hope


Surfing on a wish

He descends to the touchy ocean

A salty breeze gushes from underneath

A spring of refreshing motivation

The flaring sun eagerly follows him like a bright shadow

Intimidating mountains forcibly rise, but are capped

From the serene, misty horizon

Where a bleached bird loudly flaps its wings away


Upgrading his life board,

With exhilarating dreams

As he dashes through the clouds of hope


Waltz of the Cherry Blossoms


Two rebels break from the formation during the finale,

Desiring to demonstrate their own worth


The other performers swirl and spin together,

But the couple twirls all over


Up & down a graceful, invisible roller-coaster

Rising as high as divine entertainers


Their pinkness is not utter embarrassment;

But rather pure passion and devotion


The pack would be proud

If not for the ferocious metallic monster


Who displays the most

Overwhelming performance of all


Traffic Light


Green, Yellow, Red




Yet again I missed the light

What could have been

What should have been


My chance to burst to

The frontier of the background

Defining the jagged shimmer

Of the tender life force


But I wait, pondering

Is this a pre-carved destiny?

An aim, beyond ambition


Green, Yellow, Red




Komodo Dragon

Staring menacingly at all observers

You being the greatest observer of all


Claws scraping the loose earth

Scaly tail weaving through the sky


Rocky exterior grinding rock

Squinty eyes seeing all


And you wonder

What more is beyond this glass?


Reality Recreated


A transcending wheel of regrets

Sprouts forth wisps of choices.


Which world shall you conquer?


A directory of multiple screens,

Different routes, the same ending,

Where everything is really fake

But the enjoyment is surreally real.


An unhappy fairytale, an enchanted traveler

Bestowed with the gears of the mind.

A clockwork so extensive,

It has gone digital


Like a boy at the toy store,

He plays with what isn’t his,

A remote controller browsing fake realities.


Films of futuristic memories

Resurface on calm waters.

A beautiful portrayal distorted by the ripples of time.


One-time routines, impossible horrors, desired fantasies

Forged in the darkness of Helios

Shattered by glows of the god.


A current future passing,

A thought remaining unexplored


What could tonight’s dreams hold?



City Mingling


Full of the promising young, and the promised old

This kaleidoscope-like urban cityscape

Stuttering in broken circles of light

Towers zig-zagging

Across the geared, cyan skyline


No being cynical

Expanding borders

Until all sides are hypotenuses

But it’s your life, don’t make it a brutal brawl


Cybernetic world,

The clash of (common) creeds,

Is all I need to make sure that

There is not only me


Everyone’s values are today’s splendid, Splenda society

Making life sweet

It’s so wonderful--

To be you and me





to defeat monsters, he has long since sacrificed his humanity


his heightened sense of vengeance bloats into a colossal skeleton

thick sinews and muscle strands of his frustration intertwine

outreaching like twilight as the sun sets behind great walls


his black hair flowing like crows flocking for food

his eyes glowing green of what was once the foolish innocence of adolescence

his derailed teeth expelling furious vapours between the cracks

his devilish ears pointing towards some secret in the western sky

his narrow brutish tongue spitting nothing but whims and revenge


and as he stomps and stomps, pounds and pounds

all his limbs into this entity he hates

with steam gushing out of the areas of contact

with disintegrating parts of his body blindly slamming into structures


his giant shape finally stumbles down, wondering

whether evil sheds tears inwardly



Blue, Beyond the Blues


Head rested on his hand, mimicking a comfort he once had

He spent every evening looking out the window


The girl had long departed, like a tugboat leaving no trace

On the water, except for the anchor pit under the waves


And he could hear the foamy sounds across the season

That resonated with the relationship between see and sky


Memories frolicking on the keys of black and white

Though with a harsh tune, it led to a harmonious epiphany


That nostalgia could be more dangerous than heartbreak

That he had always loved her; and that was his heartache


Spring echoed of the finest chords with all his unsung songs

Her reply was a slow wave pushed back to the summer’s beach


There blows another yet familiar salty breeze, once more

He reaches out his inner arms high to embrace the horizon

Edited and selected by Raphaelle Race. 

Selected for re-publication in Bloc Features is a short collection of poems by Allen Qing Yuan, a gifted 20-year-old Canadian poet. Allen’s work is truly representative of Poetry Pacific's oeuvre and style, not only because it embodies what we believe to be the ‘best’ poetry: short and suggestive, but also because he is among the most popular poets we have published thus far in our e.journal.

As the editor of Spillway, Pedestal and In Posse Review, Susan Terris, has put it, “Allen Qing Yuan is a gifted poet with a keen eye for detail and imagery. His work is lyrical yet still well-grounded in the many worlds he traverses in his poetry. His poems have, at the same time, boldness yet tenderness.” 

Allen Qing Yuan's picture

Allen Qing Yuan

Allen Qing Yuan, born in Vancouver in 1995, is a two-time Pushcart nominee and the author of Traffic Light (2013). Currently attending the University of British Columbia as a business major, Allen has had poetry appearing in more than 70 literary publications across 16 countries, which include Cordite Poetry Review, Literary Review of Canada, Poetry Kanto, Shampoo, Taj Mahal Review and Two Thirds North. Allen is also the co-founder of a popular local clothing brand Above the Movement.