The truth is that we never admit
the untruth within our own selves.

At night I see
myself
more clearly.

Daylight
obscures
I can't think right.

There is mystery
when the day is done
the mind is set to grasp reality.

Silence rules the night
(day is silly clamour)
the heart's feelings are at their height.

This calmness with none in sight
while sanctity and purity* its cool balms shed
I've touched the sharpest edge of beauty--how I love the night!

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

1

Because I obey my heart
I love

2

Because I cry
myself I purify

3

Because I suffer
I acquire patience and endurance

4

Because I am content
I have everything

5

Because I observe
I learn

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.

A fool I know gives
half his monthly salary to charity
while we the ones with wisdom look away
as we don't subscribe to such benevolent philosophy

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

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.

Hate is the neighbour of love-
Beware!

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.

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.

Pessimism, to me, is to be preferred to optimism.
I have planned my life based on this belief since my young days up to old age and have come to realise that what I am and the small measure of success I have been able to achieve has been due to this choice.
Pessimism is more close to the pulse of reality in the face of life's uncertainties and vicissitudes.

The pessimist plans well ahead and has a contingency plan but not the optimist who is left high and dry when his plans don't work out-
he has no resources to cope in these eventualities.
( I was happy to read, after my diary entry,  that a scientific study published in 2015 came to the same conclusion--the article was entitled
THE DOWN-SIDE OF OPTIMISM).

Being pessimistic hasn't dampened my love for living---the quality of my life has not changed--I am stronger and happier--thanks to my pessimism.

I know many would disagree---each unto thy own--whatever suits you, that you must espouse.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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!

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.

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

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

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?

This call--mysteriously so
I scarcely know
from whence it does come.

It will not go
away
it insists that it must stay.

I can't make out
is this the voice of the past
or the future?  How deeply I doubt.

There are no words
in the call
more akin to faint chords of music--how they enthral

and I seem to be dangling
among the stars and the moon-  ----celestially--
(am I dreaming?).

Soon to sleep  succumb my weary eyes
and suddenly words dawn upon me
in my dream---you are your own call--there's no mystery.

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

The mind reasons
but the heart understands.

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.

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!

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

Love hates excuses
explanations it loathes to entertain
it stands resolute and hits back
'  Stop talking--not again!'

How love suffers
when vows are not kept
it knows the bitterest pain
and weeps-- alone and bereft

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 want to tell the truth?
Beware!

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.

They say :
discard the old
herald in the new
we are  easily misled
unless we are vigilant
we would be fooled

the new
is too often
a disguised
and revised version
of the old

but the vendors
of merchandise
the purveyors
of ideas and doctrines
are sugar-coaters
and how easily
we become suckers


they say
reject
and be ashamed
of the old
(people are watching you
  how deplorable and wretched
you look clinging to what went before
you are archaic and out-of-step
with the modern era--no wonder
you are frowned upon
and become the laughing-stock of those around you)

but I hold my ground
and to such I reply
I like the old clothes and shoes I wear
my little cottage known to none in the faraway
I love my old-fashioned values
honesty, compassion, tolerance, humility
fair-play,  tradition, decency,  loyalty and poverty

I am self-sufficient
in every way
and what you sell
I wouldn't buy
nor to your sweet words subscribe
lest they cause my moral demise
so leave me alone
to my old ways
and my quiet life
I am doing superbly fine.

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

Words are traps-
beware!

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

This begs the question:
'Is this possible?'

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.

Life has two doors
marked 'Entry' and 'Exit'
you pay your rent as tenant
after which the landlord would say--'Quit!'

I am just words
how many did I speak yesterday?
today is making demands on me
what should I say

but about the same words
with some variations-- subtract there, add here?
my words appear quicker than I can think
Oh dear, oh dear!

I am not a robot or automaton
I am human--I should not be mechanistic
but words rule my life and are tyrannous
they know too many a cunning trick

I must study my words-bank
delete what has made me a fool
a new vocabulary I should acquire
like a little child starting school.

Say hello
  to the moment
stretch out your hand
and you say with an open heart
what's in for us?

it replies
well--it's just you and me
I am the stage
you are the actor
I can't even raise a finger
unless you make the first move
there is no show without you
I have no life nor delight
of my own

no philosopher am I
call me an ordinary bloke
I didn't go to college
(just an average student-
finished high school at 17
poor family I came from
  dad was an odd-jobs man)
I held several jobs
but disliked working for others
now a farmer
with a helping wife
(we have two kids--very young still-
one boy and one girl-
we adore them)
we earn enough
decent living as the saying goes

I wake up early
and hello to my farm I say
I talk to the plants (they grow better
as they understand what I say)

after harvest
to the town I take my produce
and then I say hello
to the people who walk by
and they say hello in reply
these are great things
you bring--I'll have these two
also that over there
hello- what a magnificent word
just the sound makes me happy
and I am in the day's doing-show

to me
life is just saying hello
I have an unwritten alliance
with moments in time
they are with me
wherever I am
and wherever I go.

One descending dew-drop to another: Farewell dear
Within a short while on landing we would forever disappear

I'll be I, you'll  be you
each within our void--we met
once before--love couldn't be-
we'll some day either  remember or forget

but nothing would ever be the same
even though we should meet one remote day
only a few words would be said in exchange
our eyes would not greet as we like strangers walk our own way.

You knocked at my door
in the harshest night-hour of that winter
frozen, hungry, pale and in despair
you were gladly invited and we had a hearty dinner.

We chatted about life
and all things  beautiful and sublime
we sang and recited poetry together
our laughter filled the night-air and we lost count of time.

I was then so young and my heart was eager
to capture the essence of each moment of wonder
old, weary, derelict and only a spectre of a man
I am at your door this summer day--' 'I knew you never' comes your answer.

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.

World-focused and-world-rich,  heart-poor
    plethora of words--void of  content-
    slogans---speakers' delusions
    kindness--a weak word
   power--the deadly kiss
  (but those who wield can't see this)
   peace---it has gone to the bin
   war---the death of conscience
  love---has gone asleep
  ( often bottled up with the tightest cork)
  lies---survival tools
  (they bring rewards)
   friendship---size no bigger
    than a flower
   (can't compare with the size of any ship)
    wisdom--'wish-dom?'
    courtesy--everyone wants to be
    first in the line--can't you see I am busy?
   the ego--no boundaries does it know
   money---to have more is healthy
  (you with none--what a pity!)
   tomorrow--what tomorrow?
   ( today is the reward--the next day is too late)

     like the flower
     forgotten and neglected
     deprived of sunlight
     it begins to shrivel
    then it withers
    and dies

    man has lost his heart
    morally and sadly he dies-
    death of the worst kind

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