Tomorrow
we all say
there's no end to tomorrows

after all
we have time
so what's not done today
is carried forward
to the next day

it's work-in-progress
the final product
will come out somehow
wait until tomorrow

so convenient a word
tomorrow

we'll be still around
what then is the rush and hurry?
the sky won't fall off
we still have a job
we'll drink beer
and watch TV
have fun
let tomorrow
take care of itself

don't take a swipe
on tomorrow
it could mean
too many a sorrow

so have a thought
even a tiny one
there are not too many tomorrows
every past day
is a minus on the spectrum of time

think
what guarantee is there
you would rise to see
the sun tomorrow?

THE ETERNAL ENIGMA OF SELF

Does the self
truly does its own self understand?
does the owner's experience
a helping hand does lend?

Search in the vast firmament
delve into the deepest sea
explore every dark cave of the mind
traverse the coldest Arctic-the mystery

remains and shall never
its secrets unfold
the self is a lone wanderer
its true story can't be ever told.

And an old weary man here I am
only this path I must follow-
the self must perish to be reborn
to be free it must embrace The Tao of 'letting go'.

Chinese proverb: It's easier to change the course of rivers
and mountains than human nature
how wise and how true a saying--
what a rare treasure!

I can't be like anyone
I am not them
when closely I examine myself I begin
to understand why I am the person that I am.

1
Because I strive with none
none strives with me

2
Because I don't go to the Money-Place
greed I avoid

3

Because I don't argue
I am free from dispute

4

Because I choose to sit at the last row
no one notices me

5

Because I am not in the race
I suffer from no disappointment

Genius is surrounded
by mystery
the owner asks:
Should I be happy
or am I an object
of pity?

I'm burdened
by its weight
which is crushing me

I'm not free
no longer my old self--
dejected and unhappy-
even my friends are behaving strangely
no longer desiring my proximity
it's as though nothing of life's joys I could claim
I'm overpowered
by a force that I can't name

the voice within torments me
day and night
it wouldn't leave me even for a moment
and I've no place to hide:
' you're the chosen one
and there's no escape
from your duty-
the world is waiting
watching
expecting
demanding
and this is the journey
you alone and you only
must take
not just for your own sake
but the whole of humanity'

Genius
the greatest mystery
how tragic the lives of so many
as  recorded by history.

The music of late autumn
is solemn, subdued and melancholic drifting
through silent trees and falling leaves
birds take to wings and cease their singing even before evening

while the moon and stars
seem weary and are trembling
how many hearts tonight are lonely and forlorn
in their secret yearning?

Words --polished by the shine of the moon and stars
strengthened by the hardest of stone
words the alpha, words the omega
each word triumphs on its own.

Let every word ennoble
and kindle the heart
let none cast a dark shadow or blemish
at the end as at the start.

I walked in
none noticed me
I was having a drink
the pub was noisy

then entered a  pretty young lady
and asked: May I sit next to you?-so gently
what's your name?
mine is Lily

I'll buy you a drink--I said
' I'm from far-country
500 miles away
came to see my boy-friend Henry

but he didn't turn up
the neighbour said he had moved away
he broke my heart
what a sad day!

(suddenly her mobile started to ring)
her face brightened up as she spoke: Yes darling
is that really you ? O Henry, O I love you Henry
then rushed to the door--Sir-thanks for the drink!'

The world #has grown# old
before its appointed time
it has about lost its soul
once so noble and sublime.

Upon its brow, pale, wrinkled and cold
is written:  '  I am no longer in my prime
once I was the boldest of the bold
now my every song and verse no longer holds a single rhyme'

Time-an enigma-
does it travel too slow or too fast?
an invisible intrusion-sometimes we love and at other times
we hate-when its presence does upon us uninvitingly ******.

How long should I wait, my love?
how long would my affection last?
I am shivering in the cold night air
would you come ? your love--can I trust?

Miniatures
micro-pictures
win me over
the macro distracts
as too large a canvas it does cover
anything that's in excess
dulls the senses
in the menu of life
there's just too much to choose
why would I prefer ten dishes
when the best I have tasted?

Think not old age is about wisdom
rather it's about many an uncertainty
and doubts despite the myriad of experiences
life is not understood by years lived--it remains the deepest mystery.

SONG OF THE PAINTER
                       (Dedicated to ...)


My mind swims in the endless sea
Of myriad shapes and colours
A mysterious force guides my hand
To create light,  shade and contours.

The whole universe beckons to me
Its pulse I feel, its beauties I see
I let my fancies roam wild and free
I touch the edge of eternity.

Every stroke of my brush
Vibrates like  a string of my heart
I leap into a kaleidoscopic world-
The Acadian garden of art.

In every shape and colour
An echo of music do I hear
The painter is an orchestrator
Of beauty that is ever sweet and dear.

16

You have lost your freedom
Because in your blindness you chose serfdom

17

Reason is boring
The heart likes to dance and sing

18

Life is about living
Not about winning.

19

Which do you prefer
To be?---a leaf or a stone falling on the surface of the water?

20

Do not sing in the company
Of someone who is in misery.

APOCALYPSE

Civilisation will sleep
in time's graveyard
there's too much hatred
bad blood that would split
every artery and vein asunder
when the human heart
could feel no more
when reason has been
swept away by the soulless indifferent wind
and nights are but the ghosts
of anguish and perdition
when dreams are hellish nightmares
and sleep is but a trail
of torturous afflictions
when peace has bidden farewell
and hopes have sunk
into abysmal oblivion

what is left
and what is there to be lived for?

now in this grimmest hour
darker than the silent grave
rises only spectre's head
ugly, ominous , relentless and revengeful

this then is the apocalypse -
the world has lost its sight
splendour and beauty
and in every corner of earth
a signboard will be found
bearing the name : Dead

Isn't every day the same then
the slow-grinding hours at work in the city
waiting for the clock to  tick faster
the tedium, ennui and feelings close to misery?

how dreadful to get up in the early hours
(this winter is beyond endurance)
breakfast eaten in a hurry
to catch the 6-elevens

half-asleep in the train
(fearful to miss the stop--drowsy)
doleful and tired faces all around
(isn't everyone unhappy?)

irascible boss
stingy as hell
the office doesn't have enough heating
but none is brave enough to tell

lest he gets the flick
(this is recession-time, jobs are hard to come by)
no salary increase or annual bonus
all that you can do is to suffer in silence and sigh

long hours, no thanks from Mr Glum
(none dares take sick-leave)
Paul took two days and was shown the door
working conditions here are beyond belief.

week-ends---the same humdrum
too many beers and betting at the race
( Nancy threatens divorce---my losing spell)
my life is a dreadful failure---I am a total disgrace

return home at midnight after too much *****
broke, worry sick, can't sleep---how to survive
the next week?--Sammy lends money at 10% a week
I depend on him (he's a good friend) to stay alive.

You my friend told me the other day
'  Eh, mate--you have lost weight and look unwell'
  you John my dear friend are dead-right
   my life is worse than hell!

All of life is summarised by
just two words---wishing and wanting-
wouldn't life be a mistake
if we know not the ecstasy of loving?

and thus strengthened each of us walks
the earth like the most blessed being
our faith is renewed, our hearts are at rest
and enlightenment gives us all the joys of living.

1

Soon it'll be Christmas
carols and lights in the town
buskers play louder

2   Think of Santa Claus
in his red suit and white beard
    he hates the whole thing  


3   Christmas without snow
     it's summer in Down Under
     welcome, warm Christmas

4

Over-indulgence
same story every Christmas
complaints thereafter

5  

  Christmas is for kids
  parents say they spend too much
  the kids call the shots

Fishes swim in the sea
Birds fly above
My fair maiden
You were born for me to love.

The last time you said to me
' Don't you ever come near my side'
I should warn you, sweet maiden
Millions of girls like you won't end up as a bride.

To depart
is to die a little
good-byes are tearful and break the heart
life is brittle.

'  I must return to the open sea
which is my home
I'm dying, dying every moment when I think of thee
and I wonder: ' shouldn't I cease to roam?'

You thought the day was over
only to imagine
night had eyes
and was watching you

night-hours seemed so unsafe
unlike those of the day
when activities shut away
your innermost thoughts

and amidst the  din and crowd then
you seemed a courageous person
there was safety in numbers and comradeship
so obvious and enticing--you didn't need to reason

all alone now--in the silence
every beat of your anxious heart you could hear
what had you done with yourself in the day?
did the night-hours cause you to tremble and to fear?

I hope this does clarify beyond doubt--
the lim-erick was not invented by our Lim family
(with an illustrious history)--- the reference is to a place in Ireland-
but the first was written by St. Thomas Aquinas in the 13th century.

Then this guy came along
in the 19th century
who perfected it so to say-
Edward Lear--he left behind a great legacy.

He wrote 212 in total
prolific he was--verily-
could Nigel Finn beat this record
as he did cause quite  a stir in Hello Poetry?

I should be ashamed
ever to claim--dishonestly
that my Lim family had changed
the world of Western poetry.

Truth eluded you
as with unclean hands you came
your guile it too quickly sensed
you fell on your own sword with your devious game.

It shall not forgive you
for defiling its name
its doors it shuts in your face
what you will reap is but ignominy and shame.

I hope this does clarify beyond doubt--
the lim-erick was not invented by our Lim family
(with an illustrious history)--- the reference is to a place in Ireland-
but the first was written by St. Thomas Aquinas in the 13th century.

I should be ashamed
ever to claim--dishonestly
that my family had changed
the world of Western poetry

Space-- silent, serene, mysterious and majestic- covers all
and there is infinite peace in its emptiness
we should learn to be empty
for that which is full could receive no more--we should address

ourselves:  what is this fullness and surfeit
doing to us?
once emptied of all our desires and vanities-
all that follows  serves only to bless.

Take a genuine interest in people but don't get upset if you are snubbed by some---you can't expect everyone to be responsive , considerate or generous in spirit--the world is far from perfect.

I can't be more than
     what I am
     only this and this alone defines me-
     should I further claim
    
    I do myself an injustice
     weeds are not roses and lemon
     is not champagne
     on this I need no lesson

     I know
     my station
     in this tiny faraway corner
     I seek no recognition

     little blessings I hold so dear to my heart
     sorrows  I accept with utmost humility
     of life's treasures I ask for none
     this is my happiness--simplicity

We are all escapists
one way or another
moments overcome us
to our moods we surrender

comfort to seek
wounds and bruises to heal
courage and patience to renew
while past scenes their unwelcome presence reveal.

We are all escapists
one way or another
life is indifferent and takes no sides
we laugh and we cry, we rejoice and we suffer.

Believe not those who proudly declare
they are the invincible optimists
when the tides of life rock their boats their hearts sink
overnight they would turn miserable pessimists.

I live in two separate worlds-
the inner and external--
they are seldom in congruence.
I have to find the right balance  to live successfully.

FLOWERS ARE FALLING INTO A FLOWING STREAM

Flowers are falling into a moving stream
Each petal tells a tale of youth’s beauty and innocence lost
How little does youth know what the poets have written-
‘Those who love deepest do suffer most’.

Youth says---‘Purest love and sweetest dreams are mine
They shall never fade away-so my heart tells me
Time shall not my joys and pleasures ravage
In the bowers of love I will abide eternally’.

How harsh and merciless is  time
Nothing remains the same forever
Even love knows pain and sorrow
Even the most beautiful dreams disappear.

Flowers are falling—petal by petal
Into the heartless moving stream
Oblivious to love’s lamentation
And the loss of its fondest dream

China of old was a nation
of traditional avid tea-drinkers
when foreign alcoholic drinks were brought in
the Chinese turned into tea--totallers.

Ding **** bell
***** in the well...

But
Let me tell
This fat man's tale was hell.

In Melbourne's city main street named Pell
Into a manhole he fell
It took six men under Brigadier Mac Mell
To rescue him--he survived a trauma but was physically well.

THREE CHEERS FOR MODERN LIVING
 
 Ah, what a life,  a dreadful life
Too much angst and too much strife
Credit card and mortgage bills
Piling as tall as the mountains and hills.

Better be a primitive man who was happier
In the cave or on the tree, never a money-worrier
Nature lets none down, food is for the picking
The river provides the water for drinking

The breezes provide the air-conditioning
Music is sent by the birds that are gladly singing
No cars, no problem parking
No supermarket-queuing

No upsets, no arguing
With the recalcitrant who are seeking
A quarrel with fists threatening
Isn't it a punishing?--this modern living

But I am not done yet with this writing
There's also the taxman who is watching .

There's too much to know
there are too many people who are wise
and so many different things they each say
I am never sure what to believe--I surmise

absolutes there are none
and knowledge and wisdom* is relative-
points of view of the thinker--is he wrong or right?
I am never sure--we are dealing with the subjective.

How could I be sure
when doubts spring to my mind
all the time?  Beyond the daily demands
and realities all else I've to leave behind

for I am an ordinary man
the limits of what I know I clearly set
as I am never sure of anything at all
on unknowns and probabilities I don't bet

Love’s Philosophy
BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
The fountains mingle with the river
   And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
   With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
   All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
   Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven
   And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
   If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
   And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
   If thou kiss not me?

I walked in
none noticed me
I was having a drink
the pub was noisy

then entered a  pretty young lady
and asked: May I sit next to you?-so gently
what's your name?
mine is Lily

I'll buy you a drink--I said
' I'm from far-country
500 miles away
came to see my boy-friend Henry

but he didn't turn up
the neighbour said he had moved away
he broke my heart
what a sad day!

(suddenly her mobile started to ring)
her face brightened as she spoke: Yes darling
is that really you, O Henry, O I love you Henry
then rushed to the door--Sir-thanks for the drink!

Forget high-flung
philosophy
only four words you need to know
to live life well and happily-

here are the four pillars of wisdom:
(hold them in your mind and in every activity)
they are so easy to remember-- surely-
'perhaps, 'maybe',  'probably' and 'possibly'.

Lead me not into temptation
I am not an 'into-money' man
You are an investment advisor
You say you have the best plan

for me--you do care
for my financial welfare
one dollar of investment will turn into five
' the best deal anywhere'

and I begin to wonder
why don't you borrow from your granny
sell your wife's wedding-ring and your house
since you say this is 'sure money'?

six of my uni-mates went broke
and three went to jail last year
they were all into 'high finance'
sorry, for them I don't even shed a tear.

From the schadenfreude of some
you can't escape
it comes in many a size
and many a shape.

Should I be regarded
as being rude
to enquire:
is human nature intrinsically good?

Should I say it again
dearest Lily?
walk away
forget me

I am not meant
for you--I would cause you misery
I love you, yes, I do
most sincerely

but I am not gifted
nor romantic in any way
too simple and common
you deserve better--for your sake that I say

love is strange--verily
such a mystery
the heart battles with the brain--let go of me-
should I say it again, dearest Lily?

1

Because I know anger destroys
I learn to acquire temperance

2
Because I respect people's rights
they accept me

3

Because I know flattery is poisonous
I don't swallow sugar-coated words

4

Because I am willing to help
the rewards I receive outweigh all my expectations

5

Because I know there's always a better way to say things
I learn to choose the right words

Snakes hide under the grass
crocodiles and sharks under the sea
lions, tigers and leopards have their unknown lairs
where's your hiding place? Tell me.

You aren't my friend for sure
yet I count you not as an enemy
but something's lurking inside you
I can sense--it's about me and I've to be  vigilant and wary.

SOMEWHERE RIVER

Somewhere River
winding through time’s corridor
silent chronicler
of the heart of man and its sacred inner core

sentinel of history
record-keeper
of life's mystery
it forgets never

night and day
its waters meander
through every remote bend near or far away
further and yet further

can you hear its song so tender
when the night is hushed asleep
when the tired moon longs for slumber
when the stars in deepest silence  weep?

We are all like Somewhere River
we exist somewhere –each a traveller
through time,  a lonely unknown wanderer
this is our life-story—what else should we remember?

London Bridge is falling down
Falling down, my fair lady
Now let me tell you
My sad story.

The Aussie market is falling down
Falling down,  I am so unhappy
I'll sing this song no more
I'm caught up in Melbourne's Court of Bankruptcy.

This is the voice of The Sublime:

11  I can't save you from your pain
     From your sufferings life's toughest lessons you might gain

12

         Your wisdom means nothing to me
         Your worth is in your piety

13
         The strong should protect the weak
         It's through what they do that their nobility does speak

14

               Happiness is not your right--never--
               You do yourself wrong demanding to be happy--forever?

15

               Life is a shadow
               Its mysteries you will never know.

You hold love too tightly
it rebels and says: 'Let me be free'
letting go is the greatest wisdom-verily-
if lovers are to be happy.

Each unto their own in liberty
and yet each is drawn closer in harmony
love is not meant to be one's monopoly
but letting the other to flower into utmost beauty.

Too much of serious verse I've written
It's time I tried the comic
But it's just as hard
I don't know the trick.

A professor of poetry in Melbourne said to me:
' Enrol yourself in the School Of Comic Verse-
You were not born a writer
It can't do you any worse'

1

Because of my past failures
I analyse my mistakes.

2

Because life is hard
I should not make the lives of others any harder

3

Because I take no one's side in any dispute
I am free from blame.

4

Because I discard trivia and non-essentials
I perform more effectively

5

Because I know my limitations
I focus on sharpening the edges of my competence

Thus speaks the mind:
put away your MRI machine
I am beyond matter
my latent potency it can't detect
I am invisible and amorphous
even I am not aware of my own mystery
and what propels me
to do what I do
I know no boundaries
as I am seamless

and strangest of all
I don't even know what I am
however hard I try

I have a million questions
but have no answer

so take your machine away-
you are just wasting your time
trying to define me-
the unidentifiable, the incomprehensible and the immaterial

LIFE AS A SCORE-BOARD?
    
    Why treat life
    as a score-board?
    with pen and paper
    adding up the points
    grumbling when you fall short
    every dart you throw
    is like one in vengeance
    with bloodshot and greedy eyes
    score
    score
    score
    more
    more
    more

and when the mark you missed
anger and shame swell in your face
like one consigned to disgrace
and you got terribly ******

   why treat life
   as a source
   of self-satisfaction
   and self-glorification?
   you feel good
   like a Napoleon
   or Alexander The Great
   when those around applaud
   your feat and prowess
  
   but
   too soon
   the night dissolves
   everyone in the bar
   is tired of the silly game you play
   enough drinks and folly
   for the night
   they start to walk away

   in the dart-room
   you are playing a game
   no one does bother to care
   and soon enough forgets your name