One Less Animal to Help Me Evolve
put one child into a room
give him a doggie
to write his page
put another child into a room
give him a doggie,
a turtle, a caged dove
to fill his days
put another child into a room
give him a doggie, a gold fish,
a fighting fish and a parrot
to string his tales
now let them all talk to you
about their adventures
the first one would look at you
and probably say nothing
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Nicknames
nicknames are thrown
around in my family;
our own terms of endearment
word could not describe.
it is that closeness
towards each other
through words that evoke
a special experience
with a brother or sister
or just a plain description of
his uniqueness.
a brother is called La Ting
because of his bald head when a
baby.
eldest brother is labelled Ming
instead of his real name Thai
because of his intelligence
when a child.
Ming means clear-minded.
Another is called Lung
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Day Before The Tsunami in Phuket 2004
H! That white boy
Skiny, thiny thing
Did god claim him too?
----------
christmas day
i saw the boy
the white boy
skiny, thiny thing
who could only be
two scores of age
smiling so
innocently in phuket
the elders surrounding him
cajoling
i saw a little boy
black plump little thing
barely two, i guess
almost nude, running
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Harvest Moon
the yellow moon,
the colour that i could never get right
in my art class
well who can
it is never really yellow
and when you add white
it loses its luminosity
full moon
well when it is full
it is never round
if you look casually at it
it bulges at one side
with a tiny star twinkling at its side
a little child crying to be carried
but who cares except the round moon
poetic moon as poets would write
whether it is or not
the little child that would soften their poem
never given its recognition
lazy bones are always copycats
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Remember
remember
the curiosity
as a child
the stirring
in the heart
the first time
you saw
a hornbill,
a crane
that had
set wings
to your imagination
of colours,
feathers, and flight
an elephant
such giant honest creature
you could get them
walk in a line
down the circus
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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I said to Love
my love,
my love for you
is like the land
beneath your feet
if you want a comparison
forever supporting you
in life, in death
i take the wind, the rain, storm
in my stride
for your cause
honouring you
with blooms, roses, irises, clovers
crocuses, flowers of delight
to cheer up your heart
fruits of all shapes and colours
to brighten up your day
my love,
my love for you
is like the land
till me, graze me
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Asian Gold - Sari, Cheongsam and Kimono
Saris, they hold on to you
lady, like ruby, making you
one bastion of womanhood
as you walk sultrily down
the street, carrying the weight
of India's savoir-faire round
your belly and hip, your shawl
my heart, cruising and frolicking
all the way to the temple
they are a wear inspired by
the Gods, Shiva, Krishna,
Brahma, Laskmi and Saraswati
they flow with grace like angels
and they hold on to you like
an altar fit for the abode of the Divine
and when you set your body to dance
the Sari is all heavenly grace
swirling and twirling the world
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Again and Again
poetry in progress
childhood days are roses and thorns
they comprise memories light as
the roll of one marble as well as
heavy as a bag full of the blue white
gleaming rolly pollies sitting so
quietly in the old store room
childhood is full of schemes
marbles - we made sure the other boys
are emptied of theirs
kites - we made sure the string of
their kites snap, kite flying away
like a helpless chinese princess
pigeons - one was downed by us so that
its mate waited for it one whole day
on the precipice of a roof
one memory i wish to tear to shreds
dragonflies - in my hands they ate
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Where the Sidewalk Ends
where the sidewalk ends
now a nursery school stands
it slowly quietly comes alive at morn
the gentleness of a breeze as
children with their bags on their backs
walk, run into their classrooms
after the first light of morn
where the sidewalk ends
now a nursery school stands
it quietens down at the last light of dusk
the gentleness of a breeze
as children leave and go happy that they
have fulfilled mom's and dad's wishes
and learnt a few rudimentary words and grammar
their laughters and cheers as they leave
echo those in the lane of my memory
- a few young boys and girls swarming round
a mango tree shaking for its last mango
it had missed my friends and dropped right on my left eye
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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By Candlelight
the real child comes out
in the dark
little creatures
run all over the wall
by the candle
the children scream, laugh
trying to outdo each other
the flickering light
that makes their dream
come true
dogs, cats and mouse
large and small
all over the wall
the children yelp, meow
jump in delight
our fine children
cast light on us
about their world
in that one blackout
animals we thought should
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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