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 Sep 2015 Kenshō
SG Holter
Sit with me in silence.
Hold my hand with the hand
Of your mind.

I'll be your shadow; you be mine.  
We'll rest in two dimensions.
Watch ourselves in 3D.

Safe in the warmth of
Our common intentions. A womb,
A room for you and me.

Let's communicate like mountains;
Be like solid, silent giants.
Sit with me in silence.


A river dug into purest stone after
Uncountable years reflecting
Sunlight, moonlight, stars and blue

Skies unrejecting. Dark clouds too,
In some divine alliance.

*And deep within it's deepest deep,
Two single, uncut diamonds.
Until we're ground to grains of sand,
Sit with me in silence.
 Sep 2015 Kenshō
Kristo Frost
She's in the kitchen
(close the door)
just mixin' up some metaphor;
a true conundrum
through and through
and through to me and thus to you.

Her humble hunger
(forest's slumber)
thunders 'neath a wilting tune;
tuned to too many
to count without
a thought within.

She must profess
(but shall confess)
to any who will listen;
closely she holds
a tragic history
mostly mystery to most.

She solves my soul
(I deny that hole)
which she still fills;
overflowing always
with such unrelenting joy
that is My Love.
 Sep 2015 Kenshō
Dr Peter Lim
VESTIGES

The late autumn roses wither
Each petal falls silently on the ground
Peeling will generate new growth
Though vestiges remain without the sigh of sound.

The heart that is forlorn and bereft must rest
Never mind though its sorrows are profound
Vestiges will be the harbinger of new hope and joy
In shedding and letting go future bliss shall abound
NIL
 Sep 2015 Kenshō
Dr Peter Lim
IN FLANDERS FIELDS THE POPPIES BLOW*

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Here my comrades and I are laden
We fought for King and Country
Here we are---the fallen.

‘Be proud’, was the national proclamation
‘ You are the chosen’
We left home and our loved ones
Here we are—the ill-begotten.

Some of us  once upon glorious corridors
Of Cambridge and Oxford had trodden
The best and most fertile of young minds
Here we are—the forgotten.

How strong we then were, riding on the back of youth
Its dreams so sweet and resplendent
Rained by bullets in the battlefield
Here we are---death has spoken.

Pro patria gloria, dulcis pro patria mori
(Never mind if our hearts were cruel and rotten
We must **** all enemies  over the fence)
Here we are---the terrible  who were chosen.


Were we born to destroy and mutilate?
But in the battle-front ---all we loved and espoused had been stolen  
Buried in dark pits of hate and revenge
There we were----inhuman and despondent.

Those whom we slaughtered and maimed
Didn’t they like us once did hold dreams just as golden?
Weren’t they who happiness sought as we did?
Here we are—to bemoan all the precious from such that had been stolen.


In Flanders fields the poppies weep
For us who are far from home and have nowhere to return
With the wind’s nightly melancholic sighs whispering in our ears
Here we are----empty,  with dark sins upon us—for absolution is all we yearn.

• inspired by the opening line of John McCrae’s poem IN FLANDERS FIELDS   published in December 1915 (Flanders is in Belgium where a million died or were maimed).

John McCrae (1872—1918) was a Canadian doctor who joined the army as a gunner but later transferred to the medical service.
IN 1918 he was made consultant to all the British armies in France
but died of pneumonia before taking up the appointment.
NIL
 Sep 2015 Kenshō
Dr Peter Lim
STRAWBERRY  FIELDS

I  walked  in  the  strawberry  fields
with  you,  so  long,  so  long  ago

 the  sun  was  shining  and  nature  was  smiling
and  our  two  hearts  fluttered  as  love  was  starting
to  grow
but  I  was  sixteen  and  you  were  fifteen
the  tender  buds  of  our  love  had  not  known
the  fragility  and  ephemerality  of  the  heart’s  affection
we  changed  as  the  seasons  and  time  had  swiftly  flown
now  I  am  forty-­‐‑one  and  you  forty
and  the  strawberry  fields  are  derelict  and  no  longer  sown
none  can  fight  omnipotent  destiny
I  have  become  a  stoic,  happy  to  be  by  myself-­‐‑-­‐‑alone
NIL
 Sep 2015 Kenshō
Dr Peter Lim
Above or below
high or low
left or right
tall or short
sunshine or rain
front or back
forward or backward
here or there
stay or leave
remember or forget
hot or cold
black or white
love or hate
success or failure
friend or foe
hide or appear
beauty or ugliness
loyalty or disloyalty
faith or doubt
doing or not-doing
act or hesitate
waking or dreaming
abroad or home
going out or coming in
opening or shutting
laughing or weeping
buying or selling
speaking or not speaking
walking or running
advancing or retreating
yes or no
hold back or show
a thousand more of such things
but everything ends
with the heart
love your heart
follow your heart
cherish your heart
share your heart
in the beginning was the heart
at the end is the heart
the Alpha and Omega
this is all
and all you need to know
 Sep 2015 Kenshō
Dr Peter Lim
Not a thousand dreams
a few will well suffice
turn not away from the sorrows of others
help wipe away teary eyes

I share the joys of happy people
but sad faces do linger long in my mind
--a few dreams of compassion suit me well--
from a tender age my loving  mother taught me to be kind
nil
 Sep 2015 Kenshō
Dr Peter Lim
An allegory --man is the worst animal …
he begins to know what it is to be human only at his last moment but,  sadly, it's late, too late
               APOCALYPSE

It's too late
the volcano is swallowing up
what's in its way
the storms are raging maniacally through the night
tearing down the mightiest trees and bringing ubiquitous destruction
to homes and buildings
the sea rises to destructive heights
eager to grasp the clouds on high
even the rulers of the jungle
the lions, tigers, leopards and elephants
are in fear, trembling
it's the end of the world
it's the apocalypse
the signs are unmistakable
you can't run
there's no place to hide
even fear has come too late

kings and princes are calling out
to their subjects
shut the gate
protect us
but all have fled from the palaces
to save their families
and loyalty crumbles

and the powerful
are rushing to their hidden vaults underground
to salvage their treasures
before the meltdown

but the red-hot lava is flowing
towards them-closer and closer
all that they are holding in their hands
they throw away
such wealth that had once been amassed
in greed and without compunction
is worth less than sand or mud
item by item the articles drop on the ground

and for once
the human race
starts to wake up
and now it utters--
what's the worth
of diamonds or gold
power, influence and position
here is hell
there is no food nor shelter
we have not eaten for days
soon we shall all be swallowed up
by nature in her relentless revenge

suddenly the rich and arrogant
are trying to become friends of those whom
once they despised and trampled upon
all because this is the hour
of reckoning -side by side-
so humble, so suppliant , so gentle
they suddenly become
'let's help one another'
they speak--first time in their life-
they never knew any language in their heydays
but only that which served their selfish ends
never mind the body odour of the nearest person
what if he were only a labourer or janitor
body touching body
as there's safety in numbers-
like a horde of animals crouching
like children in helplessness crying
like beggars in obsequious beseeching
how easy now to embrace humility
to feel just for a moment the meaning of humanity
man thought once
(before the spectre of now)
he could overcome nature
and rule the earth--
forever

all is quiet now
darkness is descending
the winds are mocking
the clouds are in somber gathering
no human voice is heard--no one is speaking
amidst the debris all around
why is there not a single bird
among the trees or in the air?
in this hell-on-earth?
no bird shall sing
and man shall never walk
this way
again
NIL
 Sep 2015 Kenshō
Dr Peter Lim
THE CALL OF GENIUS

Genius wakes trembling
From its deeply-troubled sleep
' I've a gift that I can't describe
Can I this something keep?'

The call of genius from an unknown realm
That which breaks the mould of the owner's past and mind
Its imagination encircles and encompasses the universe entire--
Ideas, images, figures, patterns and shapes of every kind.

'Am I real or am I in a dream?
I seem to have lost what I was in the past
Life and people are strange and the world seems to have changed
Whom and what can I trust?'

What is genius and where is its abode?
Who can its mystery decipher ?
A question even the owner can't answer--
He walks, often sadly, as a loner.
NIL
 Sep 2015 Kenshō
Dr Peter Lim
ENEMIES

Should I say I have enemies
but rather
that others single me out
as such?
I don’t even know them
how could I?
they never said to me:
‘   You are my enemy’

and why me?
I am of no significance
not in the market-place
not the cynosure of others’ eyes
so few people
know that I exist

do I have the time
or bother
someone has targeted me
as an enemy?
Doesn’t that person
have better things to do?

but I don’t choose
to be the enemy of anyone
I have enough problem
of my own

only one enemy
I dread
lest it destroys me
that someone
is with me
every moment
all the time
day and night
it won’t let go of me
it clings worse than a leech
to my skin
it exhorts
challenges
teases
displeases
chides
blames
even pontificates
wanting to over-power me
in everything I do
trying to undo
what I count
to be dear to my heart
even threatens me
in anger
indignity
without a single straw of mercy

even in my sleep
it doesn’t leave me
it wants to haunt me
so that I would know no rest

I turn the corner to look
at that creature
my worst enemy
oh no
it CAN'T be true
that monster
is none other than
myself!

vincit qui se vincit
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