In the corridors of knowledge
the scholars and the smart loudly argue and proudly sit
I tremble when I walk by and don't dare raise an eye
as I know I've none of their wit

Forgetting
is harder
than remembering
the past has secret powers
and spellbinds you
it makes you
a captive
and demands attention:
surely you can't forget this?

in the far horizon
of your mind
dim and fuzzy at first
then the images
coalesce into visible forms
they stare right in your face
and you become
the past tense

none
indeed nothing
is stronger than the past

'I have forgotten the past'
who says that?
isn't that person
telling a lie?

So easy to remember
how hard to forget
the past is an unforgiving monster
with its trail of many a sorrow, blame and regret.

But life is a state of mind
an open road---you have the freedom of choice-
they live well---those who understand
life is a tale of both sorrows and joys.

How insatiate is the human heart
to endless temptations it does fall
abundance is still deemed lacking
it wants nothing that's less than all.

How hard to let go the past
how easy to attribute blame
so few do know the state of their minds
finding every reason to give life a bad name.

You want to tell the truth?
Beware!

Yes, Santa will be here!
To the kids once again he will bring good cheer
At the last hour, a dentist he found
Who had not yet left town.

But Santa is insisting he won't be  singing
Three of his front teeth are missing
'  No screening on Universal TV
I don't want to look ugly and silly!'

1

Because I hurt others
I try to mend my ways.

2
Because others hurt me
I must accept that the world is made up of different kinds of people.

3   Because every person's opinion of me differs
I must accept that some would say things not  in my favour

4

Because it's not possible to read another's mind
I find it prudent to reserve my judgment

5

Because I know life is parsimonious
I don't ask for favours

The best place
to be
is no place anywhere
it's within me

the space
that's within me
has no face
it's my invisible identity

You wrote to me:
'I never tried a Lim. Will have to give it a go!'
  George, a gorgeous idea
  Lim-ericks are seamless--I'm sure that you do know.

By the way, what does 'Lim' mean in Chinese
made up of two characters 'Tree and Tree'?
(Swung- mu lin---double trees =Lim)
in English, call me Mr Forest --I would be equally happy!

I must go away
from myself--- life
should not hold me back
and I would have said farewell to strife

in my new
becoming
as illumination
is unfolding--

everything takes on
a new meaning
if I look and step away
from myself---experiencing

a fresh
dimension
a clear
vision

old roots must die
for new ones to spring
murky waters can be washed away
only when clean water is flowing

the voice
of the past
should be let
to rust

only the heart
that's free
can be
happy

letting go
of the self and its every trapping
is to flower
into my true being.

The last bird-song has faded from the hill
The first stars  are awake, serene and still
I'm waiting by the silent lake
You must come to me for love's sake.

Here far away from the human race
None will see us as we embrace
Billions of lovers the moon and stars have seen
They know what love is and what it has always been.

The world is full of wise people
grant me that I be a fool
sadly I can't take lessons from such
myself alone I must school.

How I value my ignorance
wisdom has never been my domain
in the daily classroom of life
I learn word by word, again and again.

Each word speaks to me
more endearing than any teacher can
like a little child I listen to its voice
so tender and kind --never had I heard such from any man.

The world is full of wise men
but to that corridor I could never belong
grant me that I'd never my ignorance disown
only that I should not do wrong.

Once long ago, there was the Great Wall of China
Much, much later--the Berlin Wall-- then
History is all about culture and walls
The artefacts of ingenious men.

You whom I hold dearest
Why has your heart built such an impregnable wall?
Could you but chip off one tiny brick for me to look in-
Though you said you never ever loved me at all.

Darling, sing me that love song
the one you sang when your love you did vow-
do you remember that song?
I've forgotten it now.

Dearest,  that was ages ago
sorry,  I can't remember
shall give my memory a jog
perhaps it would come back never.

Catch every moment
time does fly
embrace love
lest it should pass you by

having courted and won over love
faith you shouldn't leave behind
constancy never fails in duty
affection outlasts time and is forever kind.

Love your neighbour as yourself.
But I can't---I'm not a saint.

You say you know
how do you know you know?
who are the people who say so?

but others know
you don't know
but don't want to let you know
that they know

while you don't know
others do know
that you don't know

thus, not knowing
you don't know
does (in the eyes of others) show
you are foolish and shallow

while they who know
that you don't know
will use what they know
to exploit your weakness
wherever you are or wherever you go

your life's battle is lost because
you don't know
that you don't know

and by the time you wake up
from your not-knowing
to knowing
the show is over
and you are left with
NOTHING!

No, not discontent
but the consuming fire
that rushes through the veins
to allow words
to find their voice
in the poetry-land
of the heart and mind

here is the culmination
the distillation
the illumination
of the poet's finest thoughts
and feelings
where experiences
gained
through every life's passage
come to blend together
to find utterances
so mysterious and profound
as to be beyond
his human comprehension.

Is the poet
a chosen breed?

He asks himself
but knows not.

This was the problem with the great bard William Shakespeare
Of venereal diseases he did not care or fear
The biographers do lament
His creative powers were unwisely spent
In 16th century brothels of London--on dear, oh dear!

I was the song you didn't sing
I was the heart you didn't know
I was the poem you never read
I was the love you let go.

I was the dream that you crushed
I was the voice you chose not to hear
I was the promise you frowned upon
I was the one you held to be least dear.

At the end
everything breaks up-a tiny
drop of water falling incessantly
on the biggest rock dissolves it over time--completely

if you love truly
and breathe into a dew-drop
it would transform into an eternal ocean
there would be no end--no full-stop.

The mind reasons
but the heart understands.

Words are traps-
beware!

Sit still, don't dare move
fix your eyes on them--stay so-
remember
it's their show.

The audience is clapping
follow, don't you fail to follow
furtive eyes are watching you
remember---it's their show.

Intermission: hold your opinion
they have agents looking around--you don't know
don't whisper a word to the next person
Remember--it's their show.

They must be the cynosure (nothing less)
wherever they are, wherever they go
stay out of their way and trouble you would avoid
remember always---it's their show.

When there's too much of me
I stop
and feel uneasy.

It's the perennial theme
the inexorable -the world and me-
it's real--not just does seem.

If there's too much of me
I must assume--the external
of things has encroached on my liberty.

I can only live
outside of me to some degree
beyond such I can't give.

Too much of me
I should not want
it would be a malady.

This, this only
will set me free
when there's little left of me.

Let me sing my song to you
  ere the evening its dimming shadows cast
  let me say how much I love you
  over and over again--this won't be the last

Let me hold your hand
ere mine is too frail some day
look into my eyes that are no longer bright
ere time steals all our tenderest moments away

The interplay
between self and others
the drama that never stops

what to do
and not to do
what is right and what is wrong?

giving or taking?
are acts sincere or faking?
are they joy-giving or sorrow-causing?

and when it's about loving
that's the hardest reckoning
is it about both or only self-gratifying?

how much self?
how much should one's extending
to others be? Most perplexing

but if love were true
self should be serving
the loved one--the act most ennobling

Everyone has a secret trademark
known to him alone
it makes him what he is
that brand he singularly does own

it will last for ever
from it  he will never part
it is his most precious diamond
it rules his soul and heart

We are not made for death
those who live well do not die
we are made to be larger than ourselves
we are supermen and super-women -- death we deny.

We are made to live
and living is all that which does matter
never mind the pain and care not for relief-
he who conquers himself is the ultimate victor.

Motto for today-
be silent
be still
be calm

close your eyes
for a while

breathe in
deeply
breathe out
slowly

be not in a hurry
(that's a step
closer to being happy)

step back
observe
listen

watch every word you say
such that
you don't offend
nor should you get
in someone's way

it's another day
and everyone is doing 'their thing'
as in a stage-play
some would be so eager
themselves and their wit to display
let them be
it's their day
(not for you to say)

but to myself
I can say-
put your ego
away-
it will be a great day.

Because I speak the truth
( '  To speak the truth is the best policy')
those around me raise their fists
crying foul and threaten: 'You are our enemy!'

They would rather I lie
( '  Say good things about us lest
you pile troubles over your head
we will hound you and you would know no rest').

In the court the judge says to me:
'You must speak the truth and nothing but the truth'
my enemies in the room cast me a murderous look
I would end up either in prison or suffer the boot*.

What should I do?
I am done for either way
the safest way out
is to cut off my tongue-then nothing I would say.

Should love know moderation
or should it swim in the wildest waters to the furthest shore?
isn't what is held now sufficient
why should the heart yearn for more and more?

Love in extremity is the lover balancing
at the precipice--a strong wind would cause a catastrophic  fall
but the heart is too quick to prompt:
love should never be less than all.

You have some harsh words to say to your boss-
Beware!

A promise is a debt
  though not written on paper
  once made--from it
  you can't sever.

  You borrowed in gold
  and with gold you must repay
  a promise made is more than gold
  it has to be fulfilled before you pass away from the light of day.

The intellectuals can't claim
that they know more about life than the common people-
it is plausible that the latter may know more than the former
through their unique experiences, intuition and innate insight.

You are euphoric and want to embrace the whole world-
this is your weakest and most vulnerable moment-
Beware!

The prattle* and clamour* of the day
is deafening my ears and jarring my heart and mind
I have to walk away into my aloneness
be courageous enough to leave the world behind

lest I turn into a shrinking man
someone faceless in the long and tedious queue
day in and day out--the same mindless engagements
in inane conversations and senseless pursuits--have but few

moments of real living and savouring
of beauty---I wither as I am, nay, dying
a little as time passes me by, life is fleeting
and I am in limbo--just dangling

hanging to a cloud of nothing
in a moral wilderness--bleeding
( I make sure no one is watching)
hoping for my self-redeeming.

Immortality--so many hope to reap-
is not for me
all the joys and sorrows I've known
are enough to constitute my life-on- earth biography

to desire for more is vanity
signifying I' am still incomplete and unhappy
it seems to me hankering after immortality
is the face of selfishness and a refusal to accept life's brevity

So little I've learnt
understood even less
what then is the value of knowledge
which seems to be futile and useless?

This is a true story
Of a robber named John-Sill Henry
With a water pistol
He tried to hold up Bank Royal
Caught red-handed--when the water leaked accidentally

When you thought you had found the truth,
beware!

This is the road you have too frequently travelled
it excites and delights you no more
a total stranger walks by for the first time
and marvels: 'Such beauty I've never seen before!'

Have you forgotten when you first fell in love
and the person you would have given your life to adore?
blame not time nor circumstance---the beauty of the past
has not changed--- you've walked away and you have yourself to deplore.

My shadow
has vowed
to follow
me wherever I go

it asserts:
I won't be side-tracked
nor
set aside--I want you to know

I've the same rights
as you--so
we are equal partners in life-
I'm behind you in the show

I reply
in the best way I know
well-said, my alter ego
let's put on our show

Everyone says this:
"I'll be true to myself'.

This begs the question:
'Is this possible?'

THE RELUCTANCE OF WORDS

Sometimes, nay, often- words shy away
I have to be patient and wait
I set aside all thoughts--hoping later
to find the gems and celebrate.

With words I live all our life
I learnt just a few as a child--enough then-
just a few simple words  brought such joy and delight
words have outgrown me since--now I have to woo them as a friend.

1

'Practise your piano'
little girl is none too pleased
a silent tear drops

2

Winds in the desert
chase the sand into the air
camels shut their eyes

3

No stars in the sky
the moon hides behind grey clouds
the autumn winds sigh

4

Winds over the waves
a seagull catches a fish
a dinghy sails by

5

Late spring evening
a cottage stands on a hill
old man smokes his pipe

CREDO

Let me walk
behind everyone
let me hear them talk.

Much would I learn
from what has gone before
patiently I'll wait for my turn.

Then enough would
I've seen and heard
and felt the ongoing mood.

Being last in the queue I could
walk away unnoticed
if the air were foul and the crowd is up to no good.

It's in forgetting the self
that you are set free
the sticky ego would perish
the mind feeds on nothing as it's empty

that which is empty has no boundary
and everything does it encircle
that which is full soon spills over in excess
he who is relieved of the burden of self is his own miracle

It's better not to be there
than to be asked to unceremoniously  leave
society is a rough and tough thoroughfare
knowing your station saves you from much grief.

It's a power, fame and money-game
people meet and one another greet because there's gain
(if there's benefit--who cares about a bad name?)
I knew this long ago and from such places I happily refrain.

We judge others so as to feel better
about our own failings and faults.

1
Because I pause
I think

2  Because I stop
I see

3  Because I am silent
I hear

4
    Because I am still
I am unshaken

5

Because I know my station
I am never out of place