john tiong chunghoo Poems

Torres de Paine
dusk makes me
a red indian
...

my hut's lamp -
lucky that it magnifies only
my shadow
...

new words are eggs
in my bossom, the warmest
and coziest part of my body
till they hatch to sing the
...

new cornerstone -
all around black soft
tapoles flail
...

the less than perfect poems
without them i would not have arrived
at the better ones
forests and valleys i traverse
...

a realm where
existence is mere eyes
year after year only sights
in sky of no man's land
...

blooming plum -
baby girl lifts her skirt
to dance
...

Myanmar Upheaval
monks' chants turn into
cries for freedom
...