The Devil himself

…..he read that online
mine poetry about poverty
that poverty was about
the grammar mistakes in many poems

the stupidity started chasing me
declared instantly me-moi as his enemy
his words, so absurd
a lunatic so terrific

I thought he could read poetry
but….I was mistaken....

my beloved one never knew
the alienating appearance of this blind male

I wrote about true poetry and its poverty
he associated with politics and its tactics

I thought he could read poetry
but….I was mistaken....

thought he ran the marathon
but....I was mistaken,

he was chasing me constantly,

God said to me: " Have never fear, Sylvia
I am with you all the time"

all my fears disappeared instantly

from far I heard the thunder
and I saw the brightest lightning
a man fell down shouting for help

on my way, I passed his burnt body
terrible smell of burnt blood
Hey! That was the one who was constantly chasing me
The devil himself with his poker face

Thank you, dear Lord,
you have helped me in Your Time....

that resonates with mine,
oh Lord, You are sublimest!


© Sylvia Frances Chan

Love is more than all things
in the light enticingly stand

Love is more than the memories
more beauty in twilight go,

Love is greater than all beings,
who covet much and long that,
after more or less erudite
one goeth others corridor

Love is more than all what is seen
by world weaving loom drives
after one of the perhaps waring
the figure that remains flawless

Love is that, motionless shining,
doing all that is moving
Appearing ever, never disappearing,
brightest and mystery

Love in all things lives and weaves so they are

Love is in the memories the invariant line

Love is what all beings the heart does
go to others around
so without anything erudite
one to the other looks, the other looks to one

Love is what all is and what is seen
one instinct is where it floats by

Love is behind all the might
the figure who remains flawless.

Love is true and eternal
Love is the seen and The Unseen
Love is Love All Above
The One and Only Unconditional

Love is true and eternal
in the masterful human brain
itself nesting warm
by Love´s reign....






© by Sylvia Frances Chan
HP Friday-@19.01 hrs p.m.
14th Nov 2014

Women´s Day
today is not Friday the thirteenth
but Thursday the 8th of March
not yet April
but March will stir his tail still

Women's Day, what a weak name
we thought it brings us fame
not noticed in all those years
the bullet went through the church, so many tears
yet our fate remained the same
mother, partimer....no one to blame.
THE Government perhaps?
Ah, there are still too many men inside that "house"
IF they choose, always for the man first, of course
WHEN will most women seek a job in da Government?
Then your salary will increase,
your societal position will alter
of course not that ease
BUT women ought to choose first
the highest job in da Government
for this, we must have brains and be graduated
then our voice would be heard
throughout the world

at least ten years bail
for the male
who abuses ****** or with words only
his wife
I never mean to hurt the warm-hearted male
who must undergo abusive tortures of his female

I like to sit right, and make things be right,
not only for abusive men
but also for women with strong hands
who may be abusing her man all her married life
that´s why she should never be his wife
sure there are women who can only beat, beat and beat!
Then I have true pity for that man´s ability

well ladies around the world
sit straight or only on the right or on the left
for the photo, with a true sincere soul

wishing you all
here on HePo and around the world
a Happy and cozy Women´s Day!
The rains though smallest drops
make today a miserable Women's Day

the bright sun has disappeared
weeks long we have the brightest and sunniest days!
OK, wishing you all nice gatherings together
and drinking tea with sweet ginger-cookies
don´t  forget Grandmother's apple pie
in her time women are only smiling and be shy
can we imagine that for all things only nodding and agreeing?
Not one rimple-dimple of rebelling?!

Of course not, they haven´t known those emotions did exist
that´s why nowadays, and at present, it is a bliss
to be called a wo-man and not a she-man
oh dear ones, I do and try to write here all that I can.

my premier poem about Women´s Day
yes, they accept the lesbian and the gay
the transgender must stay at bay
their problem could be discussed
in the next generation, what a fuss!

but even though a Happy Women´s Day
to all kinds of women who are walking this way.



Sylvia Frances Chan
AD. Thursday 8 March 2018

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

What rhymes with Cortex
Complex, Dystrax or Consex
Simplex, Omniplex or Context
Oh my dear I KNOW IT NOW !!
Just this simple easy word CONVEX
Simple and easy
pleasy and peacy too
at your service this manuscript
no not as on the tomb of that crypt
not as eerie as in our Mother's womb
Just a small word, a simplest text, not like on that tomb
the word CONVEX as it must be
and please do not use too much your imaginations, you see
please, read me now, read this trick
please read this poetic psychic
and cover this universal convex
with your text and complicated
feelings and rational brains
please start now with the first text
as the flowery in window glass stains....



© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Saturday, 3rd January 2015

This early morn
a most beautiful bird
appears at my window
a mockingbird.

She looks at me
her deep darkbrown eyes
wide open gaze at me
I see her smiling.

Her beauty of colour
amazes me
her gift of singing
oh my! Heavenly.

Entirely forgotten
sadness and sorrow
of the night before
this visit asks for more...

© Sylvia Frances Chan

You seem so nice to me
so nice to all the others too, we
still need you here eagerly
for the sake of poetry

One happy day you just faded in the air
where are you, no any trace, no barking too
It felt like darkness spread his robe upon my view, where
are you, like grouping in the dark, I was missing you

Please come back again,
do quick, where and when?
So saddest, I've been waiting in vain

Are you not feeling well,
or at least you are not in the mood
please come back for the good,
you need not to dwell

You seem so kind to me, my dear
so kind to all the others too,  it's clear
but I still need you eagerly
for the sake of our poetry



©Sylvia Frances Chan

An Ode Poem to Present Past Times . As the Mind is following its free creating Spirit. Paper is patient, people are not. About Molenwijk, about a cutting artist, a Tale apart....


I feed you with love,
I nourish you with my smile,

my countless patience, my sunshine, my passion,
I nurture you with all things
what can do to you to bloom.

I have brought you my deepest secrets
and feed you with my own blood.

Only you can make me
as I am today.

Thousands of people,
all kinds of interests,

I came and I go back,
nothing I have noticed.

You came from the darkness,
I saw, I discovered
and I made you my own.

I'm your patient owner,
I hold you in my selfless love,
believe me, my past time hero,
our friendship will last
until many degrees below zero.

A sunlit remoted Molenwijk,
amidst of Indian Summer Autumn
Haarlem, a tale apart
precarious people look at you
like you're a piece of living art.

Is it so funny that
a workaholic, an overly prolific
a cutting artist who creates,
when his heart is on maximum optimum?

Molenwijk is very crowded now
and the beautiful sun rays make me sad,
give me feelings of deep tensions,
discomfort, brand new nostalgia
and latest fashioned depressions.


© Sylvia Frances Chan

How many times do I.............
love you dear......?
How many times do I care?
How many times must I tell you, love
How many times must I declare?
only have a moment
of bliss
have many times seen the end of this tunnel
and still I haven't  finished to pass this by

how many times I have to say
how many times should I have to whisper
how many times I should still digest
how many times must I still consume
how many times I have to come back from the dead

how many times must I die again
through graveyards around

just to sweep away the conjecture
away to comply
to your demands
is this a reprimand....?


© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN

( An essay poem about two artists souls )

My beloved, my sweet...
i fed you with love,
i nourished you with my smiles,
my countless patience, my sunshine, my passion

i nurtured you with nature
what you can do to bloom
i whispered in your ears those precious words
added my own blood to your secrets,
our songs became completest absurdic symphonies

only you can make me
as i am today:
a happy creature with free pride
free….but with great responsebility

myriad of people,
with million milliards of interests,
most of them had been in distress
they came to you and they went again
when they came, everyone was stressed and hurt….

as soon as you treated them,
in dutch we say you possess green hands,
and when they left, they arrived at an entirely brand-new land
they had not one pain again
on their new grains of sand….

You came from afar behind the swift clouds,
i saw you, but i had my doubts
you wiped them all away
and made that i wanted to stay
like in a thousand and one nights….

and as a wonder i the rebel
won't go astray anymore at any level….

You made me your owner,
though so many travels together, i am still a loner
believe me my dear, this pure absurdity
believe me, this will last till eternity
A sunlit Molenwijk area where once good hearts lived,
in the midst of summerheat, one season long to forgive
curious odd people were staring at you
like you were a killed living art statue

it is loveliest to know
you are a living ordinary soul who creates,
a living everyday man who penetrates
sick people's mind
your treatments all are oft of a very loving kind
precisely on that place and in that precious time
many fans trust you and your work is over sublime

Molenwijk area is not as before,
a crowded place for online games now
an arcadia in nostalgic plays and updated games
discomfort and nostalgia are now the glowing flames.

somehow those sparkling flickerings make me true sad,
give me the eternal feelings of constantly rushing ahead

Where I reside now with you, my beloved, my sweet
is not to compare with Molenwijk's grandest defeat
each street here is a treasure of leisure
in each corner rests sweet smell of peace
in each home resides sweet smell of our own ease
peace in all hearts, and peace in our own....


© Sylvia Frances Chan -

How many times have I to tell you this?!
never try to love me without a bliss
this day is not yours but His

How many times have I to tell you this?
love me as I am and used to be
let the ardent rose keeps its freshness
and the soft butterfiles their pure cleanness

love me please the way I am
please do not change me to fit in your program
when the Lord created me He was full of wrath
I had to choose the divine roads to follow His Path

love me please with all my rights and wrongs
with my ugliness and my beauty of the night
consider that I am not that strong
as you might have  imagined with all your might

How many times have I to tell you this...?
never try to love me without His bliss
this day and all other days  are all His

listen to the birds in the forrests
all are bringing His message about all the good things
but never try to love me without His Blessings
to cling on me charmingly but without a zest

how many times have I to tell you this?
just love me the way I am
never try to let me fit in your program
without a sigh of His love in your  kiss

please let this message be as chrystal clear

never forget to wish each other lovingly
like I am doing now for All of YOU from me

A Most Happy Stay on Hello Poetry !



© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN

Art is a true gift
unconsciously a Godgiv'n
mental wealth that health


© Sylvia Frances Chan
     25th April 2013

The path concave to life
we must not strife
it just let's us fall down
on the wrong ways of life

Breaking everything we have
as we all go astray
our minds may be honest
but not without dismay

But I have experienced
when we have tried for the good
we come up way short
of the glory of God

So I must ask of you
for a soul that's so rife
why do you continue to walk
on the concave side of life ?

I have chosen to walk a new path
to a golden star , shining so bright
God heals all of my broken bones
gives me wings , let's me take flight

Life would turn and show us this new path
we’ll walk through green pastures
ahead the golden star shining so bright
God heals all of the broken bones
He gives super wings, let’s take the flight


by
Thomas and Sylvia
January 2015

This night lasts too long!
The black holes in the wall are getting bigger,
heavy rainfall plunges on the fragile body
and the nasty damp air is celebrating here....

She continued her wandering through the dusty road,
imagined herself to see a monster in every load,
she did not look back, afraid the demon would grow
and adopts the face of the devil, you know.

But no, the devil dares not to face I,
the Lord protects me, that's why,
i and my existence constantly!
i noticed on every grain of sand
and on every dust on the road
and every sigh that passes me,
i can feel the slightest vibrations and blessings,
yes, His Almighty protects me!


Of gratitude and in all magnitude
i am singing and praising Him gratefully,
am in constant link with the divine
isolating the self is not my glee,
He is the center of my living!
i experienced it through my being.

God sends miracles to this planet
no one can feel nor see these thrills
we have to believe in these invisibles

believe in His Miracles
they be blessings for us
every curse of the enemy
melts instantly !

God never abandons His Children

we are constantly linked to His lush heart
His Blessings in Abundance for us

as long as we live till death
and death will not part us
from Him, since we are His kids...

have you ever read To live like a King's Kid
Well, this Kid lives with His King forever
you won’t miss Him
He resides in your heart
and He will never leave you !

© Sylvia Frances Chan

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

My shortest poem ever
seldom comes in December
it is not a case of dumb or clever
just to inform you that I shall ever
post this kind of poetry on HP
this is not the typical me
creating so short the A, B, C

I used to write the whole alphabet
of course most poets had gone mad
one important thing is so unforgettable
as our red wines and the Jameson's are so delectable

one subtle subject superior
is ruling our life like a creepy inferior
but this subtlety that we will derive
all our life a constant strife

will nourish the mind with wealth
world's  most important subject: watch our health !!


© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Sunday,  21st December 2014

Happened to see a poetsite
happened to see this worldwide
in fact that's all I need
yet it does not give much speed
to me, to go on or to stop
am afraid it would be a flop
my alter ego does not react
why must my thoughts always be a fact?
now that I have got a friend or two
first I'll begin with How do you do?
then how many poems have you gathered
are they all filled with your lives battered
no mam, I have rather a happy childhood
no not that kind, mam, knock on wood
tell me, what is it then, how and what age?
wait mam, I'll be honest
was like a bird in a golden cage....



© Sylvia Frances Chan
  16-03-2013

Shocked as I was walking by
walking not far but also not too nigh

I have stopped at the greatest heap of garbage
No, sir, I haven´t dragged that from your garage

what I have seen with mine own eyes
is worth to tell but it´s not so nice

first, in this poetry, I have returned to my basic, my glee
the simple grammar and the tenses, just for me

they keep awake my tender senses
what I wanna tell ye was about that poverty

that had crept into nowadays poetry
lack of  green herbs lack of own precious proverbs

the green color of the herbs
can produce in the body and mind long life verbs

that may excel in all our words
so that awful mental poverty in poetry may not read as absurds

just keep it simple and keep it in its own realm
based upon good grammar and be not overwhelmed

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.

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

So many loving words have been told
so much fantasy has been sold
to the most beloved of mine
to my only darling thine

not the darling of three years ago
this one I just met him
he saw, he came
and filled my cup to the brim
he just chose me, I remained the same

he was like a stargazer
idem-ditto a fire blazer
that one and that only I gaze
all time set me ablaze

not the lover of three years ago
he's one beau as I above said
believe me, though so
he is my only loved one who never makes me mad

for now
how much as many I get
it is oft too few the fun I bet
since his ever romantic songs
he treated the kilometers not his bed
it was not right but very wrong so I got mad

love across the miles
thousands of kilometers away
much fun you see
so many hugs, so many kisses his way
so much care and love to stay

anyway
these are my honest words
they have not gone  astray
I present these on a tray
my only game of the day
not only in summer or in the hay
but through all seasons each day

my only soliloquy
oh yeah it's really me
the words on my tray so clear
if I may
every month every year
so far and yet so near
so fresh as morning dew
so overloaded
so much and yet so few....



© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Tuesday 18th November 2014
@6.56 hrs a.m. Morn Dew