You asked me to
but I can't go down
your way-- I've changed
what was is no longer my ground

neither time nor life
do I blame-- what I've found
is nebulousness and doubt
that goes round and round

I can't go your way
yours is likely to confound
you'll learn day by day
perhaps you might win the crown

my path is what I chart
in silence, without making a sound
with the compass of my heart
for a new land I'm bound

I am dying, dying     
       regret I've none       
       flowers are still dancing     
       under the glorious sun
           

        I am dying, dying  
       to a new beginning           
        celestial music is playing     
       I'll still be listening

Make-believe
       it does bring relief

Laws are not sacred
     they are man-made

Pretence is an acquired art
takes years and years of practice
first,  do away with the heart
never mind you've taken away someone's peace

Even good friends lie
           on whom should I rely?

Please don't treat
        our conversation
        as confrontation

It's a major part of life- conjecture-
          of the true picture we are seldom sure

Few will member
   the good--many, the bad
   but nearly all will not forget
   the words you have said

I am glad to be a failure
      it has earned me much leisure

When it comes to reward
they place you at the bottom lot

In attributing blame
first place they insert your name

Dear ...


Yours is a post PhD thesis and sets us thinking about what life is but definitions are relative and subjective as philosophy and morality is not science--more by way of speculation and hypothesising.  Truth is sui generis--we de-sanctify it by claiming we know it but it stands askance.

I would look at life in awe and in recognition of the limits of my own understanding, also in acknowledgement of my lack of maturity and perspicacity ---I shall not pre-empt bur rather live a day at a time-if lucky enough, I might learn to know a bit, just a tiny bit more ,of myself and my relation to life.


I do not need to have an answer to life's mysteries, complexities, nuances or its contradictions as my happiness and wellbeing does not rest on knowledge--I would deem myself lucky to have some oblique insight--to be able to see a moment in its intrinsic state  is quite enough--though it is not enlightenment, a new consciousness would have dawned upon me as what was reflected by Blake in his AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE.  

Whether life has meaning or not is definable only by personal experience, stripped of external influences or the ranting of writers and philosophers---it is the perennial 'I' and 'Life' that is the crux.

Existentialism is but a lonely and isolated way of looking at life and might be better suited for Western thinking in its vague and dubious search for answers to living unlike the Eastern which seeks to live in harmony with the self and the universe. As such, the West is Yang and the Eastern, Yin--the former involves struggle of the self, the latter is strife-free in its benign acceptance, acquiesce, humility, compassion and subjugation of the ego and not over-doing or over-achieving. That the West is bending more and more towards Zen, Taoism and Buddhism clearly shows a sharp shifting of thinking in espousal of Eastern wisdom.

Love is more real than life as it impinges upon me in my relation to those whom I love and also in my knowing I am loved in return.
It is not an abstraction like life or truth.  

What shall save me at the end is not understanding nor knowledge
but rather in recognising I am but a ripple in the limitless vastness of the sea of life and my acceptance of such.

Do I make sense, dear Master?

My IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF ZEN--THE PATH TO A CALMER AND HAPPIER LIFE (published by Brolga Publishing, Melbourne) is on sale in 14 countries under Lim--  for rating vide Lim Sing AbeBooks, et al.
It mentions, inter alia,  existentialism, Camus and Sartre

with my deep esteem.

I've no luggage
to pack though
I'm going away
when to return
I don't know

my heart
I'll take along
my direction
it will show

I won't be cast
into the throe
of oblivion
whatever is ahead
let it be so

the truth is
I've nothing
to show
nothing to prove
only with
the tide of life
will I flow

such a delight
unknown places
to aimlessly go

life's no longer
any baggage
owning nothing
where would there
be any woe?

Most lives are lived
in the subjunctive
than the indicative

I will live today
not as yesterday

In itself, forgiving
       does not absolve forgetting

I have no money
   to spare
   but bread I have
   let us share

Having not spoken
    for a single day
    the dirt on my mouth
    I managed to wash away

To have arrived
       but seen by none
       the lone realisation
       the hardest journey done

When the seeking
    became the undoing

Being an under-achiever
doesn't faze me
my best I rendered
it was enough victory

Don't let your life
      a sinking boat be
      know your voyage, paddle well
      yours will be the victory

To be missing
could be the best thing

Take a pause
you'd find the right course

The trail of endless tears
was born from yesteryears
spring has taken flight
love has withdrawn into the lonely night

When I am old
with my hair all grey
my eyes somewhat sunken
and my smiles so weary--still I'll say

to you as with youth's once
tender words that won't pass away
for love is the prize and crown
of life---the beacon that lights our very day

you'll see and feel the past trials
and struggles all written in my face
where the calm acceptance resides
and the years we'd lived in love and grace

though our journey together
is close to being the end
I know you'll always be near
to lend me your gentle hand

Myself I include
others I don't exclude

We could be frozen
             but not broken

Why call in the intellect?
         there's nothing that I lack

It's untranslatable-
the transcendental

Realised hope
     only to discover
     later that it was
     not easy to cope

Wise it is
    to know the certainty
    of uncertainty.

I like the company
              of myself above all
              in my solitude
              I heed to no one's call

People are prone to contention
          they are alien to co-operation

That wisdom doesn't value impart
          if it fails to embrace the heart

Generosity that is misapplied
has a serious downside

My beloved, say nothing
just give me your tender hand
our eyes will do the telling
our very hearts we will understand

The housemaid witnessed alone
    two cats in the garden in copulation
    that word sent shivers through her spine
    she said to the mistress: our cats are in combination!

I didn't bid you stay
you chose to remain
I couldn't find the words to say
that would but cause you further pain-

we can't live with dreams of yesterday
from those youthful memories we should refrain
enough of sorrows there are in the day
it would be futile to ignite love's old flame over again

You thought you had arrived
        not aware it was only a new beginning
        though the journey you had survived
        you had hardly touched the core of true meaning

Don't regard me absurd
        can't you feel your words badly hurt?

If people didn't have a hidden agenda
      could they have reached that far?

If dreams were not real
      how come upon waking
     you were so eager to revisit
     and hope for their re-appearing?

Give me a blank sheet of paper
      and a pen---tiny it might be-
      write I will endeavour, though not clever
      there's no shut door in poetry.

My most inner thoughts
         how could I share?
         they were just unknown spots
         of my mind-- futile to bare!

....... but you didn't spot
        the writer was wrong
        in every thought--all along!

You won't be able to dance
       there isn't another chance!

I didn't seek
         not lost was I
         a simpleton
         I didn't ask 'Why?'

It would seem
   others we see more clearly
   than we see our  own self
   isn't this a great pity?