Life is not a prison
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Posted:Jun 6, 2008 6:10 am
Last Updated:Aug 18, 2008 3:51 am 3186 Views
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This is an updated version of a reply I made last year in response to a poem done by a depressed youth on her feelings of total hopelessness.
Life is not a prison So tell me why you shout And ask God to listen When others are about
Climb high to view your dreams Ride on the wave of hope If you fall, get up again No matter how steep the slope
We all need a window To see the road ahead The future may be scary But it's not what we dread
It is painful to watch Those who lock themselves away Joy, love and happiness Grow slowly day by day
Strong is good, weak is bad Be it false, be it true The strong also have weaknesses The weak have strengths too
Norms are set by society With guidelines to follow These are for everyone Us and every other fellow
For most, life's a routine And at times can be boring Resolutely, we carry on No, we are not pretending
Sometimes there's pain, sometimes joy As we go on life's ride Sometimes happy, sometimes sad There is no need to hide
Can you see what life's about? It's not just about ourselves It's about love, hope, compassion For us and everybody else
There's light at the end of the tunnel To help you find your way Hope at the end of the path To pull you through each day
Lee
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Have You Ever ...........
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Posted:Jun 1, 2008 4:07 pm
Last Updated:Aug 26, 2008 7:33 am 3173 Views
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Have you ever sung with a sparrow By imitating it's "tweet" Though the bird looks a little baffled Boy, it is a great duet
Have you ever climbed up a tall, thin And gangly papaya tree To have it slowly bend down to earth Because of the weight of thee
Have you ever pulled the pony-tail Of the pretty girl next door While deep inside you can't decide if You like or dislike her more
Have you ever tried to catch the wind As it passes in a rush Try as you may, chasing it about It is always air you grasp
Have you ever sat on a tube and Go sliding fast down a hill Even if you fall and tumble down Gosh, it is still such a thrill
Have you ever tried to speak to one On whom you have a huge crush And end up tongue-tied and stammering Your face coloured red with blush
Have you ever played in the puddles That's left by the recent rain And then return home, wet and dirty To mama's dismay again
Have you ever listened to a song While playing your air guitar Darn it, at times I do more than that I conduct an orchestra
Have you ever felt like Peter Pan Flying high up in the sky It's all because the girl of your dreams Smiles sweetly when passing by
If we have never done the things we do Would I still be I, and you still be you
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Three English Words
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Posted:May 28, 2008 8:04 am
Last Updated:Jun 3, 2008 8:14 am 3217 Views
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Back in the 1950's, my father was a tailor in a British Army camp. The camp was located just beside the church in Klian Pauh, Taiping. I was about six then and my brother, a year older. He had already started to attend an English school, the Saint George's Institution.
My father's tailor "shop" was a shed of zinc and canvas situated in the compound of the camp, away from the imposing main building of brick and mortar. It was a big compound; at the front of the building was a well-kept garden and at the back, a large field of coconut trees. Our shed was situated at the back, near to a durian tree and facing the main gate.
Our country was known as Malaya back then and we were still under British rule. As such, the soldiers in the camp were all British. I was in awe of these soldiers when I first saw them. Who are these giants with their fair skin, coloured hair and eyes and who speak in a strange language?
I don't remember much about the camp now except for a few events that, for some strange reason, remain in my memory:-
Once I followed my brother to catch grasshoppers among the tall grass at the back of the camp. We kept the grasshoppers in a corked "orange squash" bottle that each of us carried. Our bottles were nearly full when a young giant, wearing a white apron, called out to us. We were scared as we could not understand him and did not know what he wanted. So, we just stood there. He came over, removed the bottles from our hands, released all the grasshoppers that we caught and then indicated with his hand that we should wait. He took the bottles with him back into the small room and we saw him wash the bottles. He then disappeared for awhile and when he returned, he was holding the two bottles filled to the brim with warm tea. He then gave the bottles back to us and shooed us off with a wave of his hand. We ran happily back to the shed to share our bounty.
On another occasion, he gave me a large paper bag full of, what I now realize are, coriander seeds. Not knowing what the seeds were then or what to do with it, I hid the paper bag beneath the cabinet at the side of the shed and soon forgot all about it. Then one day, there was a very strange aroma inside the shed. We started looking for the source of the smell and found that beneath the cabinet, the earth was covered with a carpet of green shoots! Apparently, the rain had wetted the paper bag causing it to tear and spill out the coriander seeds which then sprouted. The adults immediately recognized it as some kind of herb and harvested the plants to cook with chicken that day. They wondered how the seeds got there but I kept my silence. I did not want the hassle of explaining how I got the bag of seeds; they might not believe me.
One rainy day while I was half-asleep inside the shed, we heard the sound of something hitting the ground. On checking, we saw that it was a durian. I immediately wanted to go out to collect it but my father held me back. "It's okay. You can collect it after the rain has stopped," he said. "But what if the soldiers were to collect it first?" I cried. "No, they won't," he replied calmly. True enough, after the rain, the durian was still there. Back then, I did not know why the British soldiers left the durian alone or why my father insisted that we take the durian home to eat.
One day, my brother requested that I follow him and do what he does. So, after a little training, the two of us went around the camp looking for the soldiers and when we found one, we would stand at attention, salute and loudly cry out, "Hello John. Give me ten cents." We were doing quite well until Father got wind of it and closed down our operation. Come to think of it, those were the first English words I learned!
Then one day, the soldiers all climbed into their trucks and rumbled out of town. Father said they were going home. "Why and where is their home?" I asked. Father then mentioned something about gaining our independence and the soldiers going back to their own country. Adults can sometimes be so confusing!
During the weekends, Father would carry me on his BSA motorcycle to visit his friends. Inevitably, they would ask him how he communicated with the British soldiers. (Father was Chinese-educated). "It's easy," he would always say, "You only need to know three English words: Yes, No, Alright." Incredulous as it may seem, I later reasoned out that what Father said is largely true. I can imagine the following exchanges between the soldiers and him:-
"I want to make a pair of trousers" - "Yes" "Can you reduce the price?" - "No" "I need it by Sunday" - "Alright"
With just three English words, my father was able to raise our family.
Much later, when I was raising a family of my own, I was confident that I would succeed whatever the hardships. After all, thanks to my brother, I know at least six English words:- "Hello John. Give me ten cents."
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Sunset
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Posted:May 17, 2008 8:55 pm
Last Updated:Dec 3, 2008 2:52 am 3251 Views
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As the blood-red sun sinks into the sea Beyond the quiet tree-lined sandy beach The parched Hibiscus and Bougainvillea Flowers drooping, for water they beseech
Homing birds fly over the sea, green-blue Above the silhouettes of tall palm trees Against the sky, a blazing orange hue As the land is swept by the evening breeze
As the last rays of twilight wave goodbye And dusk descends in gloom before the night Casting bashful shadows that hide, so shy From the rising moon and the stars so bright
Burnt out and weary the sun needs to rest To emerge at dawn at nature's behest
Lee
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Fickle Love
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Posted:May 13, 2008 9:08 am
Last Updated:Aug 22, 2008 10:15 am 2851 Views
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Your love just like a soft tender caress Excites and titillates me to the core Torrid passion, combined with fine prowess Enthralls and leaves me yearning for much more
Entwined lovers, lost in a world, insane Feasting wildly on a fervent affair But then, slowly, your love begins to wane I'm left broken and in utter despair
Raging anger and dreams, in tears, dissolve Sounding our love with the dreaded death-knell Without regrets and with stoical resolve I bid my love a heart-rending farewell
Flaming passion slowly flickers and dies Fickle lovers waver amidst their lies
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Negativity
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Posted:May 11, 2008 6:51 pm
Last Updated:May 13, 2008 11:46 pm 3268 Views
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Why is everyone so negative To deem your post as provocative? Your accusations Created tensions And yet, you claim to be positive
Lee
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Thunderstorm
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Posted:Apr 15, 2008 7:37 am
Last Updated:Aug 18, 2008 4:07 am 3162 Views
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Ominous clouds in downcast sky Lightning flashes, thunderclaps Reverberate, as rain clouds cry Falling rain, round us, wraps
Rattling harsh, the window pane Fighting to get within The howling wind, amid the rain Raises one raucous din
Endless raindrops splash and splatter Drenching the drowning street Spraying mists of real fine water On bare and covered feet
Sodden flowers, nodding their heads Trees, with their wide boughs bent Soaking all, as the cloudburst spreads Violent, without relent
Raging torrents, down mountainside Rumbling, wild and free Swollen rivers and sea collide In choppy estuary
Lee
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Tomorrow
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Posted:Apr 8, 2008 9:26 pm
Last Updated:Jan 16, 2009 5:26 am 3173 Views
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Sometimes life's a joy, happy and gay Sometimes life sucks, an utter dismay Whatever it may be Tomorrow you'll be free For you cannot take along today
Lee
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4
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Opinion
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Posted:Apr 3, 2008 4:28 am
Last Updated:Jun 3, 2008 5:38 am 3206 Views
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It's just an opinion one is making Even when it's used for attacking If he were to defy And dare make a reply Why is it then that he is judging?
Lee
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