john tiong chunghoo

Who Is Now Reading This?

count yourself blessed
if you are reading this?
you are the rare few
who actually read others' poetry
nobody is serious about other people's life anyway
poetry reading is being noosy
an orphan in an alleyway
tries to look for a
home sweet home
count yourself doubled blessed
if you fully understand any poem
for poets write for themselves
if a poet says he writes for others
he is probably a liar
after money probably
count yourself blessed for having learnt this
for among the millions of poets
there are poets in lost alleys
trying to find a piece of themselves
the lane that runs to treasures of heart and mind
verses springing from the sanctity of the soul
many slip on the make belief lane
throwing words, phrases helter skelter
a child that tries to plant fiction in non fiction
offering honorable readers
a half baked cake nobody would take
the heaven sounds out the genius though
each of his word gets you revved up
each of the words offers a
a spectacle into real sights, sounds, tastes
and smells
the honorable readers know the fakes
from the real - just so instinctively
real words never lie
the diamond detector never fails

inspired by

Who Is Now Reading This?
May-be one is now reading this who knows some wrong-doing of my past
Or may-be a stranger is reading this who has secretly loved me,
Or may-be one who meets all my grand assumptions and egotisms with
Or may-be one who is puzzled at me.
As if I were not puzzled at myself!
Or as if I never deride myself! (O conscience-struck! O self-
Or as if I do not secretly love strangers! (O tenderly, a long time,
and never avow it ;)
Or as if I did not see, perfectly well, interior in myself, the stuff
of wrong-doing,
Or as if it could cease transpiring from me until it must cease.10
Walt Whitman

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, June 7, 2005
Poem Edited: Tuesday, June 7, 2005

3,0 out of 5
2 total ratings
rate this poem

Comments about Who Is Now Reading This? by john tiong chunghoo

  • Mary Nagy (9/8/2005 11:48:00 AM)

    John, this is one of my favorite poems of yours. Much of this I agree with here but I will always hold out the hope that some people actually care. I do, and I really feel like many of us 'touch' eachother's lives here at poemhunter through our messages and postings. Very nice poem. Sincerely, Mary

    Report Reply
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Egal BohenEgal Bohen (9/7/2005 7:21:00 PM)

    john tiong chunghoo -
    Interesting conclusion but could you tell me what is not 'real ' within our existence please -I have been searching all my life and everything in it seems very 'real' to me! -even reading our thoughts and dreams...., or each others poetry!
    Egal Bohen..

    Report Reply
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Michael Shepherd (6/7/2005 10:26:00 AM)

    Poetry is like the compassionate Buddhist view of alcohol:
    some write poetry to find themselves;
    some write poetry to lose themselves;
    and some offer poetry from the heart to be accepted by the heart.
    Best wishes.

    Report Reply
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
3,0 out of 5
2 total ratings
rate this poem

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: poetry, poem, home, child, lost, heaven, running, spring, children