john tiong chunghoo Poems

I love this little town
where mothers love
their children like a
divine gift from the heavens
...

there is a gentle quiet repose about truths
the mirror holds them up so well
zen so well apportioned it crystalises
the world harmoniously to itself
...

smaller, shorter
these childhood lanes
the familiar scenes still vivid
the kites, the marbles, the games..
...

yesterday i passed by
my childhood stall by the road;
what an experience it was!
that woman in her 30s i used to see,
...

Secret Love
the longing to look straight
into those bleary eyes
decimated by fear,
...

the wind beats against me,
the wave garners a strength
lifts itself, roars, rolls over
crushing over the beach.
...

planes crashed down
strongest towers pilloried
new orleans submerged
iraq emptying coffers and hearts
...

touch,
sight,
taste,
hear,
...

son asks what
it means to be original
and i say it is when you learn
to be different in an artistic way
...