Long dark shadows cast
by tall trees in winter night
call of unknown birds

Dusk somehow
speaks to me
of time's greying

we forget
time has a life of its own
and knows its own loneliness

it grows tired
more and more by the second
performing a duty
****** upon it-

it has no say
it has no holiday
but takes orders
from a void that
first gave it life-

and time sadly says:
this is my destiny
and I am chained
by a force
beyond me

I grow old
neglected
forgotten
left behind
unto my own

and I long to sleep
never to get up
I die a little everyday
and regret
that I can't die

in the dusk
can you hear and feel
time sighing
among the trees, hiding
over the waters, wandering
over the mountain, reminiscing
around the stars, dreaming?

and can you imagine
it has a heart
and sheds tears
like us humans?

The stoic knows life is not created solely for his sake and in recognising this he acquires his full humanity

For most:
life is  more
the daily doing-
little thinking
hardly any philosophising

It won't go down well
with almost everyone-
life's bitter medicine
has left so many undone-

but there's no escape route
no miracle could be spun
strength and endurance must come
from weakness, ere the last race is done.

The past speaks
to the present
often loudly
and with rancour
not content
to be buried:

revive me
reconstruct
the foundations
I've laid
let them perish never

for
there's a beginning
in everything
too well you know
I've been used
and abused
spited upon
and misinterpreted

wrong
must be righted
lest truth
be crucified
I await
to be resurrected

I was the voice
of conscience
the repository
of every man
and woman's tears
the refuge and sanctuary
of their pain and fears
the face and emblem
of humanity
over countless years

I stand
in dignity
still--
I won't step aside

I'll fight
for my right
oblivion
I'll not accept
lest in silence
I waste away
and in some
forgotten corner
weep and die.

So much to learn
so little time
be pragmatic
pursue that with the best outcome-

so much to love
fail not, make time
kiss those waiting lips
embrace the moment sublime-

so much to feel
as the emotions come
look not away from beauty
to the lure of deceit do not succumb-

so much to live for
keep away from every harm
inspire, nurture and edify
let your heart abide in the sea of calm.

PERFECT STRANGERS
  
  At the corner-silent and lonely-
  Of the concert hall, suddenly
   Your eyes turned to me
   Perfect strangers we were--what would next be?

   The music ended in tears-- love's eternal painful story-
   Did you weep or  was it just my fantasy?
  Into the cold winter night you disappeared so mysteriously
  So many years have gone by--still you linger in my memory.

It would make you smile
glitter and pretty
no mumbo-jumbo
but it would be costly-

the dental implant
with components three-
the crown, the abutment (bridge)
and the *****-like implant-post---the trinity!

poor old-age pensioners
already plagued by rising utility
costs are struggling from
every town and county-

Aussie Government budget is in deficit
sinking in billion-dollars debts---not interest-fee
its announcement to the public recently:
'No funding for faulty teeth---just brush them properly!'

Make the most mundane day

your tiny, silent miracle

chart your dream,  set the way

rise to the desired pinnacle

The heart is woodland

deepest mysteries it holds

it sings and it weeps

LIFE AND I

Life sends me an invitation
‘ Let’s have a conversation’
  I decline without hesitation-
‘ I need not your explanation’.

Enough conversation I have had
With my own heart---in every season--
Words are but shadows of truth, they cajole
Must everything have a reason?

I should be as empty
As the open sky
I should dwell in wordless nature
I should not ask: Why?

How calm is the dusk
How serenely does the night fall
I wake, I work, I sleep, I dream---
Only that I know---it’s my all-in-all.

Written in the tram to the city

We all say
what- the- heck
it's only money
but the trouble arises
when we don't have any!

Tonight
it would be hard
for me to sleep
my duty
I performed
shabbily
I hurt
mindlessly
my promises
I failed to keep--

my excuses
sleep
would not overlook
or forgive
deep
inside
it's as though
some worms
are beginning to creep
gnawing
at my whole being
how could I sleep?

when poisons
seep
into the blood-system
when conscience
bites
at the seam
when
loud internal voices
ring to condemn
where would
I find sweet memories
to keep?

what I sow
I reap

it's well past midnight
but how could I sleep?

FEELINGS
Feelings
are                 drifting clouds
ever               moving           at the whims
of winds        effervescent    ethereal
like                 ships             without anchors
will- o’ the wisp       where      are their homes
of what         substance        are they made of

like             the rose-bud         just nascent
like             ****** love           just unfolding
like             life                       mystifying
like             a lover’s  dream  somewhere hidden
like             shadows              haunting

I                was wrongly        taught
feelings   were                    rocks impenetrable

experience    now                     teaches me
feelings     are                    life’s   shifting landscapes
strange    quietly                evaporating
in            the mind’s         labyrinth
I               am glad             liberated
in             the realisation  
I am         not                   made of rock

LOVE IN A NUTSHELL

Love---life is about love and relationships
in between there are many rough patches and slips
but he who swims in its unpredictable waters must
not be afraid of drowning—in his own courage he must trust.

This is the time to disembark
dusk is fast drawing nigh
the heart no longer yearns
darkening is the foreboding sky--

  the days of youth have vanished
  they shall never again come by
   the weary oar I must lay to rest
   without any regret nor heave a single sigh.

Everywhere
there's talent
indeed great talent
of very form
but sadly
so little
comes into
their true essence
for some reason
strangely unknown
to the person

just like
the fairest flower
being  unseen
with its petals
all blown
and strewn
by the wind
and drop silently
upon
some lonely
corner
to be
swept away
into a hidden '
drain-
ah, all such beauty
drowned
and has ended
all in vain!

Such loss
such grievous pain!

Don't be taken aback
I'm taking a step backward
why? you asked? Simple:
I'm not ready to move forward

for it's costly and could be ruinous
to find myself stranded or in situations perilously awkward
life is not as easy as taking a drink or walk
nor as lighting a cigarette and least about being rewarded.

I don't have the answer
but will not die for such account
perhaps many years later
it might on its own quietly come around

And I hear some say to me
     go and save the world--go-
     that would make you great
     you would be the day's hero

    and this I reply
    I can't climb ten floors--no--
   I can't save a fair maid from a burning building
   Nor swim to save a drowning man --I know

   I am no hero---I'll leave that to others
  who will do fine and steal the show
  such people we need -- and their deeds
  are in Guinness Book Of Records---though

  I  should not fail my fellow-men and myself
  I should be kind and offer a helping hand wherever I go
  no man is an island and the human heart knows both joys and woes
  let's spread love and compassion when others are in sorrow

WINTER RAIN*

The winter rain has swept through the brown coastal sand
An opaque mist broods over the distant sky
The last seagull takes its frantic flight
A tiny boat is trembling in the waters nearby.

Despondent trees are bowing to the angry wind
Leaves of red and gold scatter all over in the bitter-cold air
The anxious farmer has locked his barn
In the village none is seen in the thoroughfare.

The storm is heard brewing
The forests are darkening
The evening is deepening
The homeless and destitute are moaning.

For whom is that woman at the pier waiting?
Why are tears in her eyes gathering?
Why am I alone in the rain still lingering?
What story is my heart telling?

• Most of it written in the train when travelling to and back from Castlemaine in regional Victoria, Australia—
the rain inspired this.

Dear Tom


Western existentialism is generally gloomy unlike Chinese philosophy ---both Taoism and Confucianism never speak of despair, angst or the predicament of living----such philosophy is immensely practical and can be followed by anyone--both sages speak of the Tao (The Way/the Path)---walk in the Tao and you will live in righteousness, beneficence and compassion.

  The difference between  the Tao of Taoism and that of Confucianism lies in this:  the Tao of the former relates to the spiritual and metaphysical while that of the latter relates to the human being in society and benevolent governing.  

A meeting of Nobel Prize winners in Paris in 1988 made this observation:

If mankind is to survive, it must go back 25 centuries ago to tap the wisdom of Confucius.

I am not a student of philosophy and this is all I can say

humbly

Peter

Hope is the road that was built
during the darkest hour
once the desolate barren land had been traversed
untold strength and courage would uncover.

You can't understand love

   you have first to live it, all else above

Sandpiper's refuge

by the edge of blue water

in silent splendour

You should not die
just because a close friend
has let you down. Life
is a billion times larger
than him.  Why strive
when you should hold
your own? If you live
long enough, you would find
many like such around

be thick-skinned as
the crocodile. Smile
at his puny self-
by now you'd have realised
the world is a hot-bed
of malice and spite

do yourself a favour
take a trip to the countryside
walk on the grass bare-footed
smell the flowers nearby
talk to the birds if this way
they should fly
look at the sparkling brook
its water is truthfully clear
it doesn't judge nor lie

just because
of one person
who's out
to bring you down
you don't deserve
to die.

More of you, less of me
it was, it is and will always be

Some wish to come
others rush to go
some prefer ignorance
others wish to know.

Some want to hide away
others want to show
some want to be leaders
others are happy to follow.

Some want to reap
but hate to sow
others work ******* land
their crops richly grow.

Some spend too much
others are frugal and don't borrow
some over-worry all their life
I live life like no tomorrow.

Why I'm writing this
I hardly know
perhaps I'm bored
do you think so?

This moves me so deeply:
   a flight of birds on wing
   across a clear blue sky
   at the first flush of morning

  or upon the in-setting
  of a soft tender evening
  as through my window, watching
  my poem in completing

  with the last lines impending  
  in beauty enriching -
  time I forget, lost in reverie
  with my heart in throbbing

as for my love I'm waiting-
hush, I'm wondering
where the birds are heading
and feeling they and I are in happiness-sharing

Another theme
another dimension
another dream
another direction-

another that you deem
another cogitation
another scheme
another question-

another quest
another interpretation
another guest
another perturbation

another romance
another passion
another distance
another apprehension

the another of the another
another and another attention
the another of the another of the another
another frustration!

Your life's greatest moment is this-

     when you can show yourself pity

     and never walk away from or miss

     the suffering of humanity

THAT'S NOT FOR ME

Oh, no--that's not for me
this crowded mass-chatter
and clamour
of the market-place
(so many expectant faces
so eager to make quick deals
and enter into ' attractive' transactions-
money talks
titles are displayed
claims are loudly made)
' I am Sir Richard Bull--
Chairman of Rich & Pull
that's my Rolls--over there
yes,  can you see?'

the lust, the greed, the flattery
hands too ready to grasp-
the temptation is just too strong
opportunities not to be missed-
' Quick, quick before that item
is snatched by someone else'
(fortune favours the quick and the greedy)
the oozing of fake charms
' Oh, you made my day'
shoulder-rubbing
back-patting
even stranger-hugging (as long as there is gain)

here I don't belong
I want to be free

the noise drowns me
the air pollutes me
the smoke blinds my eyes
I must flee
before the contagion
seizes me

only one brief life
no more than a tiny fragile leaf
in the tree of nowhere
buffeted by wild winds
which shake and toss me everywhere
suspended in time
between the here and now
and the hazy time to come
I am but drift-wood
in the nameless sea
where would the gentle landing be?

only this I know-
tempus fugit- verily-
that which will bring
all things
to their final inexorability

and why should I
bother about that
which would bring me
but misery?

all that glitters is not gold
in the market-square
but dross and soot
dust and sand
(sadly most people don't understand)

I have saved myself
from this mindless debacle

to be free
is the only way
to be happy.

MY RELIGION

My religion bears no name
Carved in  the depth of my heart it speaks not ,
only replays
Past scenes that made me weep-
(Long forgotten and loneliest of days)

Their spectre they do raise still-
What I  am now and was
Becomes the testament of my faith
In silence I once bore my cross

But I would not count as my loss
All that had  filtered through my life
I resurrected from my ruins
Unburdened every load and overcome every strife.

For clemency I beseech not
Though I recognise I am most unworthy
My religion is the mirror of my life
The very face of my own humanity.

It's not what I say or declare
but for others to judge--am I
good or bad, or neither
then what?  the why of things in life
is too often shrouded
in deep mystery and is monstrously vexatious
the heart has reasons of its own and is unimpressed by logic-
the question of what is or should be is perennially contentious

Oh no, far remote-
I am not a poet though
poetry I write
as I know
I am but a tiny bit of sand
somewhere on the poetic shore
not worthy to be noticed
to be washed away by the tide-  no more
than a fallen leaf
from the giant poetic oak
that has stood so majestically and serenely
with the loftiest and most sublime voice it spoke

IT CAN’T BE RIGHT

It can’t be right, it just can’t be right
that life should always be ‘me’
looking beyond myself at the world at large
sets me free.

It just can’t be right
that others should not have their say
I should heed and listen well
never walk away and utter: Nay.

It just can’t be right
to count myself as winner
that everyone else should be loser
what and who can define someone as  victor?

It just can’t be right
to turn away from the misery
of my fellow-men
I am part of humanity.

LIFE: VIEWED FROM ANOTHER PERSPECTIVE

Near is far for the tired traveller
far is near for the heart in rapturous anticipation
leaving, arriving and waiting-
moments that make for life's equation

regret comes too late for those
who don't embrace love when it's present
only to yearn, sigh and weep
when love is absent

WORDS

Words
worry me
how many
did I use today?
Words
they frighten me
how many were necessary?

it seems to me
most didn’t do their duty
to what purpose
to whom
to what end
said to an imagined enemy
or a true friend?

I must pause
to think
before I sink
to the abyss of the inane
where words fester and stink

I must forget
unwanted words
delete many
from my unedifying vocabulary

others I shouldn’t blame
  though I know deeply
  in my heart
   I was taught to use
   the uncomely
   the meaningless words
   words that self-glorified
   sugar-coated which would but
   diminish me
   reduce me
   to absurdity
   words that hate
   that hurt
   that maim
   that cause pain
   and suffering
   that but serve
   my selfish aim
   (now regret comes too late)
  
   I should not be
   in the company
   of some many
    so-called teachers
  
    I must break myself free
     from the word-killers
     the word-profaners
     the word-defilers
     the language nihilists
     who seek to destroy
     beauty and decency
      for their vainglory

      how would I sleep tonight
      counting the number
      of inhumane and worthless words
       I spoke today?
      
      so often I wished
       I were dumb
       to be cleansed
       by silence
       to be still
       to be liberated
       from the pollution
       that has infected
        my better self
        for so long
        so surreptitiously
        without my knowing

         it’s past midnight now
        how calm are the stars and the moon
         in their eternal silence
         they speak so much to me
         and make such wondrous company

         when I wake tomorrow
         would I be a new man
          one who has turned his back
          on the past
         that has irked and misused me?

      the sage Lao-Tze in the sixth century BC wrote:
      he who knows does not speak
      he who speaks does not know.

      and that’ s all I need to know.

Because I love you too much
I need say nothing more
these few words are enough
I shouldn't repeat what I said before

too much shaking of the rose
makes its petals fall
let our love dwell in beautiful silence-
it speaks all

THE WINGS OF LOVE

The wings of love, like those of the butterfly
are beautiful but so delicate and fragile---too easily crushed-
don't rush to stretch out your too-eager hand
they would disintegrate if tightly grasped.

Let love like the shy and silent  butterfly
glide gently over the faithful flower of your heart
it will dance in jubilance and make its home there
in that shared splendour it would never want to part.

It should not be
for the want of love
for my sake alone
that I seek your heart
but rather that I can give
more than I should take-
that which but seeks its own
is but a blemish
upon the sweetest rose-

it should not be
for my comfort or consolation
as I stretch out my pleading hand
but rather that your tears
I am nearby to wipe away
to hasten to and stay
by your side
in self-oblivion
and surrender
as the bleakness
of darkness falls
and both you and I
in the deepest silence
into our eyes we'll look
where love harkens
and its radiance so bright
that it would never die--

it should not be
and how unworthy
of me
to make you promise
you'd give up all
in self-denial
in sacrifice
blind-folded in trust
in giving yourself away
and no longer belong
to yourself--
for you I must
be lesser than myself
the testament I must write
across the vastness
of the sky
should read:
'But for you
there would be no 'I'--

it should then be
that this our destiny
shall bind us in unity
as the splendour
and beauty
of every note
in an ending symphony.

We talk and think of success

as though it's life's main aim

it's only temporal and transient

not a perpetual burning flame.


The world is hubris-filled

so many lives are lived unfulfilled

FIVE HAIKU (7th COLLECTION)

1

White sand and blue sky
a broken boat by the shore
I thought of my youth

2

At the concert hall
right time for all to impress
ne'er mind the music

3

Balloons in the air
kids throw away their text-books
their parents look on

4

We are all dreamers
but our dreams are not the same
we don't tell others

5

Pen and blank paper
the poet looks through the window
his hand starts to move

I am weary
I long for sleep
unlike Robert Frost
I have no promises to keep

IF

If you can step aside
While others are busy
With the market-throng
You are a step closer to being free.

While others wildly
Their pursuits chase
If you can watch and not envy
You scorn pride at its face.

What others have
You hanker for and desire not
Yet humility and contentment
Reign your heart---you are happy with your lot.

Too much hue and cry, so much excitement
And euphoria on the other side
You sit quietly under the shade of the tree
Reading your favourite poems while the world goes mad with its pride.

If you can leave the world behind
Your own soul and heart to cultivate
Your years will ripen with sweet fruitfulness
You will arrive finally at Enlightenment Gate.

GUISE
                (From a betrayed woman's diary)

How many faces does guise have?
and I know you have mastered this art
through numerous applications-
you calibrate your part
(before meeting your target)
how you should look
what clothes to wear and how to smile
you can memorise all this straight from the book
how many hearts have you stolen
and broken?
pity those who to your sweet voice did harken
how many did suffer from your guise, you reckon?

but life is a pendulum
it can't swing every time in your favour
the day of doom would fall upon you
you would fall on your own sword- you wicked philanderer!

It's not the spring season yet
the winter-ending snow
still falls though in slow
and weak tiny droplets
each like a gentle reminder
nature has its own course
to follow
(there's no cause for rush
winter's story is not over)--

the night somehow
seems longer, and weaker
are the moon and stars-
the leaves they quiver
and the trees by the deserted shore
by the winds are tossed
forward and backward
frantically to and fro
while the tides
they intermittently roar-

the heart is restless and anxious
in waiting--each moment seems
longer than years, so cruel and vexatious
but patience and faith is tested and called for-

love should not question
it must stay strong
whatever the season
however sad its drawn-out song-

amidst life's turbulent throng
the heart should rest steadfast
love should overcome every storm
through all episodes of tears outlast-

but the time shall come
when winter its last leaves
will have been cast
the grass will revive
flowers will begin to bud
branches will stretch out
in vigour to reach the sun
frost will melt away
from the stream which will rush
to welcome thirsty birds around
all nature will be a-flush
with the brightness
of light and colour
with warm- spreading glades
and dance with the musical sound
of life born anew--all in consonance
with the heart blessed in contentment-

the time has come
spring has blossomed
love has waited
but such glory
it has won.

Live simply
leave quietly

feel deeply
accept humbly

hold gently
release freely

cease striving
embrace the emptying

You would hate me without end
your deadly enemy happens to be my best friend