john tiong chunghoo

Gold Star - 5,061 Points (Jan 21,1960 / Sibu, Sarawak, Borneo East Malaysia)

A Meeting With Despair - Poem by john tiong chunghoo

the cancer striken
has life ended for him
even before it ends?
the HIV child
has life cheated on him
before it has even began?
whose fault?
the worlds spins
without a care
she cries, nobody cares
the mother who refuses to let
her dead baby go
feeling its warmth
till the numbing cold
jolts her to realisation
that a phase of her life is over
her tears, broken heart
and the eerie cold
the clearcut divider
all the love that wont
bring the familiar warmth
of the bundle back
to her bossom
so cold the world can be
she eventually realises
through her child

israel, palestine
the muslims, jews
the god behind
does he know the blood
shed is all for his sake?
conflicting beliefs
arising from one GOD
or is he like the earth
that spins without a care?

an answer the world waits
did jesus come as son of the Most High
to heal the world?
did Prophet Mohammad
come to clear the wrongs?
the world spins without a care
perhaps, something anew
to clear up the mess again
god, , , god....god, , , god....

inspired by

A Meeting With Despair
AS evening shaped I found me on a moor
Which sight could scarce sustain:
The black lean land, of featureless contour,
Was like a tract in pain.
'This scene, like my own life, ' I said, 'is one
Where many glooms abide;
Toned by its fortune to a deadly dun-
Lightless on every side.
I glanced aloft and halted, pleasure-caught
To see the contrast there:
The ray-lit clouds gleamed glory; and I thought,
'There's solace everywhere! '
Then bitter self-reproaches as I stood
I dealt me silently
As one perverse-misrepresenting Good
In graceless mutiny.
Against the horizon's dim-descernèd wheel
A form rose, strange of mould:
That he was hideous, hopeless, I could feel
Rather than could behold.
''Tis a dead spot, where even the light lies spent
To darkness! ' croaked the Thing.
'Not if you look aloft! ' said I, intent
On my new reasoning.
'Yea-but await awhile! ' he cried. 'Ho-ho! -
Look now aloft and see! '
I looked. There, too, sat night: Heaven's radiant show
Had gone. Then chuckled he.
Thomas Hardy

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Poem Submitted: Friday, July 8, 2005

Poem Edited: Saturday, August 20, 2005

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