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i sit now thinking....
about you, dearest Dad
how long it has been, this sad

i am looking to outside's view
how everything seems so new

i am looking through this window
how time has fled so fast and full of sorrow

i still see clearly that i am enjoying the mocca
in that cosy Ragusa ice saloon in Jakarta

we two only on my favourite spot
all delicious things are far from hot

it was a delicate coldness, that mocca
i only want to say i love you very much
and the most happiest Happy Birthday Pappa!

but now you aren't here anymore, not today nor tomorrow
i must admit that that day i was in deepest sorrow

i am looking through this window
the people moving so very slow

like a film in the cinema in slow motion
your coffin passing by left me in greatest emotion

how i wished to go along with you
now i only whisper these words i love you so true
and happiest Happy Birthday to You

soft, tenderly and with a most loving thought
i know that you´ll come here today

melancholic emotions, i am in tears,
and more i have brought
for you Today especially for you my Daddy Dearest
i know Today you´ll be here as the nearest
so i am whispering in your ears
as you know me of course with more tears

the most happiest Happy BirthDay Pappa!
and Many Cosy Returns in Jakarta



© Sylvia Frances Chan
21 March 2014 @ 00.00 hrs Friday~~Happy BirthDay Now and Forever
Transcendence. A word to pay attention to.
To find that transcendence in you,
that feeling within,
that's the genius behind poetry.

Transport. A word to pay attention to.
To find that transport in you, that vehicle within,
that's the transport self to find the genius in poetry.

Transparence. A word to pay attention to.
To find that transparence in you,
that light within, that's the genius in poetry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have written these lines first in DUTCH
(my mother tongue) then in English:

Transcendence.
Een woord om aandacht te besteden aan.
Om dat transcendentie in u te vinden, dat gevoel
van binnen, dat is het genie achter poëzie.

Transporteren.
Een woord om aandacht te besteden aan.
Om dat transport in je, dat voertuig binnenin,
dat is het vervoer zelf om het genie in de poëzie
te vinden.

Transparantie.
Een woord om aandacht te besteden aan.
Om dat transparantie in u, dat licht binnenin
te vinden, dat is het genie in poëzie.




© Sylvia Frances Chan~~
Thursday 13th March 2014
17.17 hrs p.m. W.E.Time
Very Sunny temperatures, like in Summer
but no Spring yet, still cold freezing Nights
An artist has as usual
a too big soul
never a too big ego
the soul is very sensitive
different than the average artist
since this is about POETRY
then the soul of this Artist is soft and tender
for both gender
all the same
no, this is no game
why do you ask me each time the same?
the name of the game or the name of the play
I am just telling about the Artist's SOUL, if I may....




© Sylvia Frances Chan
Saturday 15th March 2014
17.11 hrs p.m. W.E.Time
Beautiful very Sunny weather, but in the evenings
the chills of the wintry hills are coming back
it isn't Spring yet!
The Ultimate One, driven by TWO persons
Two hearts, Two bodies and ONE Soul
The Ultimate One, driven by two persons as One
Making Love....in Body and Mind
As One Soul

Only able by True Love
with the help of God Above
Heaven is the Name
No, not some funny odd game....



© Sylvia Frances Chan
Saturday 15th March 2014
16.58 hrs p.m. W.E.Time
Beautiful very Sunny weather, but in the evenings
the chills of the wintry hills are coming back
it isn't Spring yet!
That day after his birthday
my mind is tormented
by all those white walls
just like that long stare
cooled to bottles and blicks


so my mind is tormented
by all those long hours
thinking, re-thinking intoxicated
like wooden doors shed
to sit in the paint again, I bet


my mind is tormented
by all those minutes concentrated
like the Boeing's departure
penetrated
my heart is in deep torture
my soul deteriorated


three days have elapsed
since the last rainbow I detected
up above so many coloured impressions
memories coming to the surface,
many tawny reflections
all kinds of  delightful expressions


darling, my mind is still tormented,
never stories told, no secrets ever unfolded
while driving homewards in silence
quite sad reminiscence


the rainbow on my right hand
on the horizon
is still a bright coloured band
but will soon be oblivion
like this partition....


© Sylvia Frances Chan
28th February 2014
23.55 hrs.p.m.WETime
Chilly stormy wind 2 C degrees now
Life consumes me
not like it used to
a great damask is spread
life-table and a bed
no chairs to tease you all  
my special dinner served in peace every fall
so i can eat with ease royally

why damask for my table, me?
and not the satin, it be?
to dine with peace and ease at all
to have pleasure each fall
anyway what the table-cloth concerns
damask, satin, cotton or whatever it learns
i'll let me treat better than ever
like life itself is consuming me

royal or not, i do not care
anyway, life consumes me, it sounds rare

and now i'm a piece of life self
ready to consume myself
it gives me satisfaction
as life did consume me with fatal attraction
i mirror back in my menu
Life consumed me sans tenue

my consumption ablaze
my taste buried
my hunger flurried
but i never worried

just like it does now
i am grateful for every flow
what i may consume of life
or life consumes me
thankful for any strife
and gratitude in glee
to only Thee


© Sylvia Frances Chan
Friday 28th February 2014
Sunny day, full of sunrays
10
Today it is her birthday
but she is no more, she has deceased
oh, how I hate repeating it this way
any other word I would have pronounced with ease

do you want to hear her story?
sure you won´t be that annoyed ?
I am so sorry if though you will get bored
I must admit that my version is a bit blurry

she is a very fortunate woman
her husband is a very wealthy man, try not to insult
all of a sudden she fell ill, to hospital she was put in a van
she could pay every specialist, she is constantly at consult

after many many years slicking pills for her health
typical her addiction, she has so much wealth
one morning she was found dead
having slept alone in her kingsize bed
the night before she preferred to sleep alone
in her daughter´s sleepingroom, her only precious throne
that cursed night she was suffocating, no one heard her scream
she was found dead in that early morning beam
the night before she took the wrong pill of another scheme


Sylvia Frances Chan
Tuesday 12th February 2014
22.12 hrs. p.m.
True facts, no fiction, own sister-in-law
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