Let love reign

let compassion fall

like merciful rain


let joy spread

like beautiful flowers

in every shape


let every heart

be at peace

never to cease


let smiles grace

every moment of day

to chase every sorrow away


let  faith and hope

be life's beacon

let prayer never be broken

Grant me the gift of small words
that I might speak in simplicity
then my heart will smile and bend towards
their tender beauty and clarity.

Forbid that I should ever plead
for the loud, grandiose and ornate vocabulary
my voice would but choke and die
in that tainted and blemished artificiality.

Alas!
how many did such utter
at last!

If someone
were always saying
'I want to be positive'
the likelihood is
that person's living
has been negative

Late autumn
just a fallen yellow leaf
why do you stop
to look-- then reluctantly leave?

A leap in the dark
don't, it's dangerous
even by the spark
of day---quite ridiculous!

You said you were sure-
was that but conjecture?

This I must master:
   never complain
   none likes the grumbler
   who's a bagful of grievous pain.

Dear Peter,

But you are a peaceful person
while I have never been-
my extreme tendencies,  while they have given me strength and courage to be what I am,
are also the cause of my unpleasantness, my peremptoriness and my rudeness--also crudeness and sometimes, insensitivity.
I don't enjoy it but just as a dog has a tail, I am stuck to what's in me and what I am.
Cutting the tail off? You might as well **** the dog!
Cut half of it?  The animal would never be the same again-
it has lost its pride, dignity and disparate self!  Its existence would have no meaning, it would count no more but would rather perish.

I don't compromise or, even if I do, it's a reserved and partly insincere compromise-
in short, not only do I have more faults than others
but, more importantly, they are enormous  in size and proportion
and are damaging sometimes.

Yet strangely,  there are some who like my accompany
but perhaps more who would keep their distance.
I don't blame the latter--they are right in their judgement and perception.

You might ask: are you happy being ruled by extremities?

My answer: I can't help it and I can't say I'm unhappy on account of this--my ugly blemish.

However you might interpret,  it's that you had seen me as a young man of 20 in 1960?
and have the chance now to compare that person with a very old man who is turning 78 this year.

My last word: I don't hate myself for my faults--whatever good that I have done, it's up to my family
to decide. But I know they would be biased.

These are my last 5, 7, 8 and at most, perhaps 10 years--I would waste no time
to do what I must, free and unencumbered, letting the world and people go by in their own  way--which means so little to me
(as I have to think of my self-interest first) and then fade away, hopefully without pain and with calm acceptance,
into the night to which I would return no more.  'Someday it would be good to die…', from a poem of Christina Rossetti whose poetry
has inspired several of mine.

Be of good cheer--you have a wonderful family and are already blessed.

Your unpopular friend
M.S  
dated 1st January 2018

Dear Mr Lim
Your chances of being published
are very slim

Signed
Poetry editor April 19th 2019

Myself I don't blame
coerce, coax, force
nor feel any shame:
life is doing and experimenting
that makes for meaning

how often I've failed
but have walked away never
my own rainbow I carve in the sky
I've never ceased in my endeavour-

the world is wild and self-centred
everyone has their own agenda
to my duty and task I quietly attend
from a remote unknown quarter-

I'm my haven and my sanctity
without any glamour or clamour
time passes by my life but I'm not even aware
my path I chart beyond which I don't bother

I'll string together
in a basket life's trivia
and cast it gladly
into the nearest river-

only a few poems
and songs of mine will I keep
myself to contemplate and console
when in future days to revisit-

life is the assembling
and the detaching
in their own time
as along with it I  keep engaging-

I'll string together
in a bouquet my every memory
my every dream, my every inspiration
as I live lovingly, tenderly and freely

So little of life
do I ask-
in my simplicity
everything is enough

every beseeching
is a loss of freedom
the greater the desiring
the tighter the prison

ah,  what joy-
nature is beckoning!
Winter's snow has melted
now is the kiss of spring

outside my window
the flowers are dancing
on the nearby tree
a bird is cheerfully singing

at my little farm- the whole year
I've been diligently cultivating
every corner is blooming
ah,  it's time now for the best harvesting!

I like innocent mischief

        it offers so much daily relief

        of numb reason I take leave

        taking things too seriously is endless grief

Be in alignment
with your life:
this is the best way
to do away with strife-

the bow must
the violin fit
if out of congruence
there would be no sweet music-

in one voice
love should speak
otherwise
it might break-

towards the waiting sun
the rose raises its head
in this coming-together
the greatest joy is shared

I will never want to be winner
if that results in someone being a loser

How could I ever say
I knew when it was just partial?
If asked upon I'd be dumb
and be in embarrassing dismay!


Of assertion everyone should beware
in every field there are experts and authorities
I'd be the world's laughing stock
if such assertion I were to declare

A little knowledge
is a wonderful thing:
the individual
of pride doesn't think-

eager to learn
open to teaching
bent on listening
never dissenting

never fear of asking
not inclined to arguing
humble in following
not voluble in speaking

fervent in studying
desirous of growing
patiently waiting
for the day of becoming

A little knowledge is a fine thing

  if it allows you to live with meaning

Give me only a little love
tender, true and that's all
I need and ask for--the star
sheds its best glow though so small-

give me only a little love
I'll grow more strong and tall
the beauty that thrives in the tiny rose
captures every eye and ceases never to enthral.

My patience
and endurance
make me stronger
than courage

Because so little
I really know
it has been
my best way to grow-

where there's wisdom
I'm glad to humbly follow
in such I'll find my true freedom
as with the tide of life I flow

What I want
impoverishes me
what I don't
makes me rich-- truly!

Time will tell on me

  myself I can't hide

  not blessed by any beauty

  only in simplicity abide--



  I won't write my life-story

that would merely be pride

what would make me truly happy

is to set all my life's trivia aside

Coming to the end of life, many would wish for a start the second time but sadly this is denied as it's no longer possible.

Vulnerable I am in old age
but will not supplicate or weep
life has to be lived or endured
faith I will keep--

people should not pray
only in their hour of need
religion should find expression
in every thought, word and deed-

acceptance is the greatest wisdom
courage is but of short stay
in the face of every adversity
the enlightened person does not walk away-

if  in this climate I were placed last
in the queue of salvation-- I will readily accept
without rancour, blame or complaint
grateful to be in patience and humility kept.

We'll never admit
     we are each a hybrid:
     the world transferred
     into our very blood and flesh-

    our self we never did create
    copying, imitating and reproducing
    has long been our estate
    too much indeed for regretting-

    in this our bud-grafting
   our intrinsic has been stolen
   we've lost our original voice
   gone are our moments golden

   and what's left
   is but the living numbness
  our will and hope have vanished
   and our heart is  bereft and homeless

I had no quarrel with time
     but it looks askance
     as though saying too long
     I have been around
     or worse--that something wrong
     I have done--

     the sentinel eternal
     the judge inimical
     the party unfaithful
     the heart unsentimental

     but
     I'll not be cowed
     to myself I belong
     if life is a battlefield
     I would be my own general

      winter chills in season
      unforgivingly
     but my heart
     shall not be frozen
     man shall never
     be smaller than fate
     there's no glory
     in out--living
     if with meaning
     I have lived

     life's chaos and angst
     has not diminished me
     I have stood up
     with dignity
    
     in my nameless humility
     and my naked humanity
     I am content  
     and joyful
     ( despair and regret
      set aside)
     with what remnant
     to me
     has been given.

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POEM
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Peter Lim <[email protected]>
11:06 AM (6 minutes ago)

to me




     I had no quarrel with time
     but it looks askance
     as though saying too long
     I have been around
     or worse--that something wrong
     I have done--

     the sentinel eternal
     the judge inimical
     the party unfaithful
     the heart unsentimental

     but
     I'll not be cowed
     to myself I belong
     if life is a battlefield
     I would be my own general

      winter chills in season
      unforgivingly
     but my heart
     shall not be frozen
     man shall never
     be smaller than fate
     there's no glory
     in out--living
     if with meaning
     I have lived

     life's chaos and angst
     has not diminished me
     I have stood up
     with dignity
    
     in my nameless humility
     and my naked humanity
     I am content  
     and joyful
     ( despair and regret
      set aside)
     with what remnant
     to me
     has been given.

I don't want to fly
I'm scared of any height
as long as I am on my two feet
I'll feel completely all right

I suffer from
roses-allergy
all because
of the rose you first gave me
you pinned it
on my chest
and said
'I'll love you for the rest
of my life and the end of time
believe me'
but your restless heart
went on a wild journey
too soon you said
'good-bye, I'm sorry
I've to go away
our love is not meant to be'.

I can't stand the sight
of roses, especially on Valentine's Day
while lovers their love and kisses exchange
my allergy keeps me away.

Dreams too many
they create misery:
the person is drowned
in his whim and fancy

give me one only
I'll work on it diligently
I'll wait patiently
for its maturity

The rose does not weep
it knows its withering season
the heart knows when it should sleep
after the rage of passion--

the nightingale has sung
future songs it will keep
when love ceases to be young
age cuts unkindly and its pain runs deep.

Allow me to speak--I would rather
that me you should remember
for my glaring faults (in such large number)
than my few merits--whatever

Nothing is heavier
I dare say
than the weight
of an oppressive thought
that refuses to go away.

All that I am

is enough for me

in my nakedness

you see my totality-



love I can't chase

it might or not find me

I won't weep nor feel pity

I'll accept that which must be

I looked low and high
  for a life- ally
  found finally the one
  who bears the name 'I'

Alone
the more so
I know
me I more own

...but don't chide me

   for choosing to be alone

   amidst life's cacophony

   I risk losing my own-



  none shall rob my liberty

  in solitude, seeds of joy I've sown

  closer to understanding life's mystery

  all my doubts and sorrows are gone

If I can't be alone
myself I can't own

The ambiguity is ours
we mar the hours

Dear Daisy
1    I am a dreamer and write a lot of nonsense. I seldom plan what to write..it's just comes from nowhere
2    life is full of sorrow and having humour gives me another perspective of things---I can't afford to take things too seriously
3   as a humanist, my heart weeps over the tragedy and suffering of people--15,000 kids die A DAY! due to malnutrition
when there's a surplus of food in many countries
4    language and words fascinate me---they are my life and my means of understanding and feeling-
through this, I am able to relate to life and people I meet--how do we use language to make the world a better place?
5   I have talked to nearly every street musician, artist, etc and also have spoken to more strangers than any Melburnian-
out of 10 I talked to, I think 7 responded well--only 2 or 3 regarded me as a con-man.  I am always gladdened when
people trust me implicitly
6    capitalism is bad as it breeds competition and discontent.  Contentment is hard to find in a restless word.
7    I have loved life and this gives me every ounce of strength to meet my death-with utmost tranquillity.
8     Women are tougher and smarter than men and you are the best example.

You write so well and your good-heartedness vibrates through your words.
Knowing you and your husband Morris has meant a lot to me and I count myself most honoured and fortunate.


I remain
yours truly
Peter

Life is the water
we are the filter
when its pipe is stuck
we'd all run out of luck!

Finding a metaphor of life
so many have tried
I'll just call it a burning fire
that goes extinct when I have died--

until then, its flame I'll carry*
through my torch and won't set it aside
my heart shall be a boiling cauldron
to an erupting volcano in kinship allied.

There's no reason
for optimism--at least not now
the air is choking
civilisation has about lost its knowhow

there's every reason
to be pessimistic---a frown
is written on the faces
of people I meet-- in town

and country-- desperation
looms with the lockdown
cities are dead, people live in dread
the fragile are facing a nervous breakdown

amidst this savage ravage
wars and conflicts still abound
the worshipful pray and plead
as hopes turn to dust and drop on the sombre ground

I won't go beyond myself
there's nothing
to add or subtract
I'll make no other calling

what I am is adequate
with my warts and faults
no comparison do I need
I've no reason for remorse

I chose to miss
my life never went amiss

Am I too harsh?
tell me in the name of love
I've given all my trust
do I this rejection deserve?

You said: I love too much
you would rather I don't
but my heart is made of such
walk away admittedly I won't.

You wrote: freedom I seek
your freedom you desire to keep
some words about yourself you couldn't speak
I sense your past hurts still run deep.

Farewell, farewell then
I could not love less
I wish at the end
you would find your true happiness.

The moment      you and I in time
we could have been  so close    but you stood away
I remember     the sky was grey that day
and I did hear      the church bell's solemn chime

strangers?         hardly so     that our hearts did silently know
a vow we made    in youth's sunshine--days    so  long ago
our past         wrapped in silence     captured now only in shadow
a messages   our eyes exchanged     the language of lost-love's sorrow.

What's trusted might not be understood
what's understood might not be trusted