love was the lake in your two eyes
which you afforded me to swim in
taking me whole into your cherish
our joy jumped like fishes in spring waters
love is the road we have both vowed to
take hand in hand, heart to heart
spring, summer, autumn and winter
breathing in each other's breath
surviving on each other's strengths
and weaknesses taking challenges
like roses that bow and dance in the winds
love will be the maple each autumn paints
to celebrate a love tale in red blood passion
before they trail into divinity hands whispering
and sighing for an eternal blessing the joy of
two fishes jumping in spring waters
by john tiong chunghoo
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
I wander lonely as a Cloud
I wander lonely as a cloud
tip toeing eyeing with grace
the clear expanse of earth
a new blessing materialises
every second as friends join
me in scaling new heights
the sky's our limits we tell
ourselves as we rub shoulders
with grandest hills and mountains,
while the ever appreciative sun dresses
us up in a rainbow of colours
we dance light footed and determinedly
winning more friends to fire up the
azure sky with our glistening jewels
i wander lonely as a cloud forever
changing, hopeful, as friend earth
awaits an avalanche of goodwill
to spread far and wide for it to grow
by john tiong chunghoo
tip toeing eyeing with grace
the clear expanse of earth
a new blessing materialises
every second as friends join
me in scaling new heights
the sky's our limits we tell
ourselves as we rub shoulders
with grandest hills and mountains,
while the ever appreciative sun dresses
us up in a rainbow of colours
we dance light footed and determinedly
winning more friends to fire up the
azure sky with our glistening jewels
i wander lonely as a cloud forever
changing, hopeful, as friend earth
awaits an avalanche of goodwill
to spread far and wide for it to grow
by john tiong chunghoo
Sunday, September 21, 2008
The National Anthems I like
I have been listening to lots of national anthems on the You-Tube and found that the following are some of the anthems I love very much:
Israel national anthem. Despite their violent history and at times, rejections by God as well as people in various parts of the world, the Jewish national anthem sounds like water in a lake, calm and shimmering with bright blessings. It goes into my top choice
Saudi Arab National Anthem. It is full of good energy and should be listened by those who want good fortune. I really fell in love with it.
The Czech National Anthem is also a favourite with its slow moving, steady and melodious sounds that make one float with it. The self assured
flamboyance of the Iraqi National Anthem makes me fall in love with it.
It is exactly opposite of the Egypt anthem which sounds quite full of pomposity (sorry Egyptian just an opinion).
The ratings for anthem according to my preference/liking
Sri Lanka (8), Japan (3), India (6), Pakistan (7.8), Bangladesh (8.3), China (7.8), North Korea (7.3), South Korea (6.9), United States (9), France (6.7), Spain (8.6), United Kingdom (8.6), Ireland (7.3), Hungary (7), Austria (7.3), Czech (10), Poland (6.7), Egypt (5.5), Iraq (8.6), Iran (9.3), Iran (9.3), Armenia (7.3), Switzerland (6.7).
Israel national anthem. Despite their violent history and at times, rejections by God as well as people in various parts of the world, the Jewish national anthem sounds like water in a lake, calm and shimmering with bright blessings. It goes into my top choice
Saudi Arab National Anthem. It is full of good energy and should be listened by those who want good fortune. I really fell in love with it.
The Czech National Anthem is also a favourite with its slow moving, steady and melodious sounds that make one float with it. The self assured
flamboyance of the Iraqi National Anthem makes me fall in love with it.
It is exactly opposite of the Egypt anthem which sounds quite full of pomposity (sorry Egyptian just an opinion).
The ratings for anthem according to my preference/liking
Sri Lanka (8), Japan (3), India (6), Pakistan (7.8), Bangladesh (8.3), China (7.8), North Korea (7.3), South Korea (6.9), United States (9), France (6.7), Spain (8.6), United Kingdom (8.6), Ireland (7.3), Hungary (7), Austria (7.3), Czech (10), Poland (6.7), Egypt (5.5), Iraq (8.6), Iran (9.3), Iran (9.3), Armenia (7.3), Switzerland (6.7).
Childhood River a Haiku published in New York's Chronogram
Phillip Levine
Subject: Chronogram Poetry Submission
July, 2008 (Chunghoo)
Hello John,
Thank you for submitting your poetry to Chronogram. As you may already know, I have decided to publish "Haiku/Childhood River..." in our July, 2008 issue. Good work.
Phillip Levine
The selected haiku;
childhood river
so Small
it has become
Being published is always a treasured experience for me. I was
overjoyed when Phillip, a literary giant in the United States, sent an email to tell me my haiku Childhod River has been published in Chronogram where Phillip is the Poetry Editor.
It is just a haiku but it means a lot to me to be in print and read in New York especially. Here is a biography of Phillip's work and achievements. I wish I could work more closely with him.
Philip Levine's Poems
Animals Are Passing From Our Lives
--------------------------------------------
It's wonderful how I jog on
four honed-down ivory toes
my massive buttocks slipping
like oiled parts with each light step.
I'm to market. I can smell
the sour, grooved block,
I can smell the blade that
opens the hole and the pudgy
white fingers that shake out the
intestines like a hankie.
In my dreams the snouts
drool on the marble, suffering
children, suffering flies, suffering
the consumers who won't meet their
steady eyes for fear they could see.
The boy who drives me along
believes that any moment
I'll fall on my side and drum my
toes like a typewriter or squeal
and shit like a new housewife
discovering television, or that I'll turn
like a beast cleverly to hook his teeth
with my teeth. No. Not this pig.
What Work Is
---------------------
We stand in the rain in a long line
waiting at Ford Highland Park.
For work.You know what work is--
if you're old enough to read this
you know what work is, although you
may not do it.Forget you. This is about
waiting, shifting from one foot
to another. Feeling the light rain
falling like mist into your hair,
blurring your vision until you think
you see your own brother ahead of you,
maybe ten places.You rub your glasses
with your fingers, and of course it's
someone else's brother, narrower across
the shoulders than yours but with the same
sad slouch, the grin that does not hide the
stubbornness,the sad refusal to give in to rain,
to the hours wasted waiting, to the knowledge
that somewhere ahead a man is waiting who will say,
"No,we're not hiring today," for any reason he wants.
You love your brother,now suddenly you can hardly
stand the love flooding you for your brother,who's
not beside you or behind or ahead because he's
home trying to sleep off a miserable night shift at
Cadillac so he can get up before noon to study his German.
Works eight hours a night so he can sing Wagner,
the opera you hate most, the worst music ever invented.
How long has it been since you told him you loved him,
held his wide shoulders,opened your eyes wide and
said those words,and maybe kissed his cheek?
You've never done something so simple, so obvious,
not because you're too young or too dumb, not because
you're jealous or even mean or incapable of crying in
the presence of another man, no,just because you don't
know what work is.
Phillip Levine a Biography
Philip Levine ( January 10, 1928, Detroit, Michigan) is a Pulitzer Prize-winning American poet. He taught for many years at California State University, Fresno. More recently he is the Distinguished Poet in Residence for the Creative Writing Program at New York University.
Levine grew up in industrial Detroit. The familial, social, and economic world of 20th century Detroit is one of the major subjects of his life's work. His portraits of working class Americans and his continuous examination of his Jewish immigrant inheritance (both based on real life and described through fictional characters) has left a monumental testimony of mid-20th century American life. It can be best found in books such as "They Feed the Lion," the National Book Award-winning "What Work Is," "A Walk with Tom Jefferson," and in his "New Selected Poems." Growing up, Levine faced the anti-Semitism embodied by a local celebrity, the pro-Hitler radio priest Father Coughlin.
Levine began to write poetry while he was going to night school at Wayne University (now Wayne State University) in Detroit and working days at one of that city's automobile manufacturing plants. Levine's working experience lent his poetry a profound skepticism in regard to conventional American ideals. In his first two books, On the Edge (1963) and Not This Pig (1968), the poetry dwells on those who suddenly become aware they are trapped in some murderous processes not of their own making.
In his first two books, Levine was somewhat traditional in form and relatively constrained in expression. Beginning with They Feed They Lion, Levine's poems are typically free-verse monologues tending toward trimeter or tetrameter. The music of Levine's poetry depends on tension between his line-breaks and his syntax. The title poem of Levine's book 1933 (1974) is a good example of the cascade of clauses and phrases one finds in his poetry.
On November 29, 2007 a tribute was held in New York City in anticipation of Levine's 80th birthday. Among those celebrating Levine's career by reading Levine's work were Yusef Komunyakaa, Galway Kinnell, E. L. Doctorow, Charles Wright, Jean Valentine, and Sharon Olds. Levine himself read several new poems. He thanked his students and asked them to refrain from asking for any more letters of recommendation.
Awards Won-
1995 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry - The Simple Truth"
1991 National Book Award - What Work Is
1979 National Book Critics Circle Award Ashes: Poems New and Old
1979 American Book Award for Poetry - Ashes: Poems New and Old
1979 National Book Critics Circle Award - 7 Years from Somewhere
1975 Lenore Marshall Poetry Prize "The Names of the Lost"
1987 Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize
Harriet Monroe Memorial Prize from Poetry
Frank O'Hara Prize
Two Guggenheim Foundation fellowships
Subject: Chronogram Poetry Submission
July, 2008 (Chunghoo)
Hello John,
Thank you for submitting your poetry to Chronogram. As you may already know, I have decided to publish "Haiku/Childhood River..." in our July, 2008 issue. Good work.
Phillip Levine
The selected haiku;
childhood river
so Small
it has become
Being published is always a treasured experience for me. I was
overjoyed when Phillip, a literary giant in the United States, sent an email to tell me my haiku Childhod River has been published in Chronogram where Phillip is the Poetry Editor.
It is just a haiku but it means a lot to me to be in print and read in New York especially. Here is a biography of Phillip's work and achievements. I wish I could work more closely with him.
Philip Levine's Poems
Animals Are Passing From Our Lives
--------------------------------------------
It's wonderful how I jog on
four honed-down ivory toes
my massive buttocks slipping
like oiled parts with each light step.
I'm to market. I can smell
the sour, grooved block,
I can smell the blade that
opens the hole and the pudgy
white fingers that shake out the
intestines like a hankie.
In my dreams the snouts
drool on the marble, suffering
children, suffering flies, suffering
the consumers who won't meet their
steady eyes for fear they could see.
The boy who drives me along
believes that any moment
I'll fall on my side and drum my
toes like a typewriter or squeal
and shit like a new housewife
discovering television, or that I'll turn
like a beast cleverly to hook his teeth
with my teeth. No. Not this pig.
What Work Is
---------------------
We stand in the rain in a long line
waiting at Ford Highland Park.
For work.You know what work is--
if you're old enough to read this
you know what work is, although you
may not do it.Forget you. This is about
waiting, shifting from one foot
to another. Feeling the light rain
falling like mist into your hair,
blurring your vision until you think
you see your own brother ahead of you,
maybe ten places.You rub your glasses
with your fingers, and of course it's
someone else's brother, narrower across
the shoulders than yours but with the same
sad slouch, the grin that does not hide the
stubbornness,the sad refusal to give in to rain,
to the hours wasted waiting, to the knowledge
that somewhere ahead a man is waiting who will say,
"No,we're not hiring today," for any reason he wants.
You love your brother,now suddenly you can hardly
stand the love flooding you for your brother,who's
not beside you or behind or ahead because he's
home trying to sleep off a miserable night shift at
Cadillac so he can get up before noon to study his German.
Works eight hours a night so he can sing Wagner,
the opera you hate most, the worst music ever invented.
How long has it been since you told him you loved him,
held his wide shoulders,opened your eyes wide and
said those words,and maybe kissed his cheek?
You've never done something so simple, so obvious,
not because you're too young or too dumb, not because
you're jealous or even mean or incapable of crying in
the presence of another man, no,just because you don't
know what work is.
Phillip Levine a Biography
Philip Levine ( January 10, 1928, Detroit, Michigan) is a Pulitzer Prize-winning American poet. He taught for many years at California State University, Fresno. More recently he is the Distinguished Poet in Residence for the Creative Writing Program at New York University.
Levine grew up in industrial Detroit. The familial, social, and economic world of 20th century Detroit is one of the major subjects of his life's work. His portraits of working class Americans and his continuous examination of his Jewish immigrant inheritance (both based on real life and described through fictional characters) has left a monumental testimony of mid-20th century American life. It can be best found in books such as "They Feed the Lion," the National Book Award-winning "What Work Is," "A Walk with Tom Jefferson," and in his "New Selected Poems." Growing up, Levine faced the anti-Semitism embodied by a local celebrity, the pro-Hitler radio priest Father Coughlin.
Levine began to write poetry while he was going to night school at Wayne University (now Wayne State University) in Detroit and working days at one of that city's automobile manufacturing plants. Levine's working experience lent his poetry a profound skepticism in regard to conventional American ideals. In his first two books, On the Edge (1963) and Not This Pig (1968), the poetry dwells on those who suddenly become aware they are trapped in some murderous processes not of their own making.
In his first two books, Levine was somewhat traditional in form and relatively constrained in expression. Beginning with They Feed They Lion, Levine's poems are typically free-verse monologues tending toward trimeter or tetrameter. The music of Levine's poetry depends on tension between his line-breaks and his syntax. The title poem of Levine's book 1933 (1974) is a good example of the cascade of clauses and phrases one finds in his poetry.
On November 29, 2007 a tribute was held in New York City in anticipation of Levine's 80th birthday. Among those celebrating Levine's career by reading Levine's work were Yusef Komunyakaa, Galway Kinnell, E. L. Doctorow, Charles Wright, Jean Valentine, and Sharon Olds. Levine himself read several new poems. He thanked his students and asked them to refrain from asking for any more letters of recommendation.
Awards Won-
1995 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry - The Simple Truth"
1991 National Book Award - What Work Is
1979 National Book Critics Circle Award Ashes: Poems New and Old
1979 American Book Award for Poetry - Ashes: Poems New and Old
1979 National Book Critics Circle Award - 7 Years from Somewhere
1975 Lenore Marshall Poetry Prize "The Names of the Lost"
1987 Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize
Harriet Monroe Memorial Prize from Poetry
Frank O'Hara Prize
Two Guggenheim Foundation fellowships
Saturday, September 20, 2008
A Virus has infected Me
it stays on my top snugly seated
in a white boney case,
hooked onto two powerful lenses,
a pair of sonar and smell detectors
and a bonus taste pad latched onto it,
not to mention the centre control that
takes messages from all in order to
manoevre the physique in the right
direction but the being that daily whispers?
converses? tiptoes over the corridors of
a hodgepode of mysterious terrains
manoevre the physique in the right
direction but the being that daily whispers?
converses? tiptoes over the corridors of
a hodgepode of mysterious terrains
which triggers fear and at times, the
blessed infusion of a dose of courage,
in the chamber of the heart, causing
machinery to crash? is he a harmful virus
we are still learning to clear, or is he the master
of a game on a multi dimensional new world
computer he so cleverly designed leaving
us in the dark of our own whereabouts?
by john tiong chunghoo
Roland Bastien (6/6/2008 8:06:00 PM) the post mumeric society created a so call transhumen being- verus from network devices can interfer with the subatomic consiousness but will never affected the De, which is that write substance into the brain- If your top chakra is open, no matter what that device can produce, the virus will die- Vajrapani will be beside your mind.
Candle in the Wind
Candle in the Wind
entrancing, entrancing
the way you flicker and flicker
holding on so tenuously
tenaciously to the light of life
to stage a shadow dance
you tiptoe your way so
effortlessly and subtly onto
my heart, my soul, evoking
memories of last autumn you
stepped out of my life, so sudden,
so abrupt, the leaves strained to
hold a a million of your smiles
gliding, trailing, twirling in the winds
your memories now flicker
flicker like the bristles of an
artist's brush and the candle
in the wind that infuse a pastiche
of warm and rueful pathos onto
our fleeting and fluctuating relationship
candle in the wind
I feel like a candle in the wind
holding onto its light fighting to
keep myself alighted, to make
my own existence relevant
candle in the wind
I feel like a candle in the wind
holding onto light fighting
to keep myself alighted,
to make my own existence relevant
entrancing, entrancing
the way you flicker and flicker
holding on so tenuously
tenaciously to the light of life
to stage a shadow dance
you tiptoe your way so
effortlessly and subtly onto
my heart, my soul, evoking
memories of last autumn you
stepped out of my life, so sudden,
so abrupt, the leaves strained to
hold a a million of your smiles
gliding, trailing, twirling in the winds
your memories now flicker
flicker like the bristles of an
artist's brush and the candle
in the wind that infuse a pastiche
of warm and rueful pathos onto
our fleeting and fluctuating relationship
candle in the wind
I feel like a candle in the wind
holding onto its light fighting to
keep myself alighted, to make
my own existence relevant
candle in the wind
I feel like a candle in the wind
holding onto light fighting
to keep myself alighted,
to make my own existence relevant
Friday, September 19, 2008
The Real Snake
poor snake
life is equal
so God says
but look at the snake
look at the snake..
it cant even walk
but slithers and always
at the lowest of place
and everywhere the message is
it's evil, culprit of the Great Fall
everything the snake lowly humbly takes
cane, blows and all
you can swing it, you can stretch it
you can bend it in any angle because
it's just a snake
there is a snake too barely two inches long
yet it's the most pliable of them all
and that's the real one where the first divine curse should go
guarded all round in a red glowing ruby palace
and gleaming pillars of enamel the cunning and sly creature
in all smugness and warmth could never get enough of
the world sweet, sour, bitter, salty, hot or cold
it could make satan of god and god of satan
and turn the world upside down
without even having to leave home
effortless, treacherous as the Niagara Falls
Subbaraman N V (9/17/2007 2:15:00 AM) Absolutely great! That is why the great saint Thiruvalluvar, the author of the THIRUKKURAL observed 'Ya kaavaaraayinum naa kaakka - kaavaakkaal sokaappar sollizukkuppattu' Whatever you take care of or not, be sure to take care of your tongue, lest you will come to great grief!
Charles Chaim Wax (1/15/2006 9:58:00 AM) a poem of truth the grand snake a wonder and so beautiful the human really twisted and sometimes sordid words ripping up truth a fine poem
life is equal
so God says
but look at the snake
look at the snake..
it cant even walk
but slithers and always
at the lowest of place
and everywhere the message is
it's evil, culprit of the Great Fall
everything the snake lowly humbly takes
cane, blows and all
you can swing it, you can stretch it
you can bend it in any angle because
it's just a snake
there is a snake too barely two inches long
yet it's the most pliable of them all
and that's the real one where the first divine curse should go
guarded all round in a red glowing ruby palace
and gleaming pillars of enamel the cunning and sly creature
in all smugness and warmth could never get enough of
the world sweet, sour, bitter, salty, hot or cold
it could make satan of god and god of satan
and turn the world upside down
without even having to leave home
effortless, treacherous as the Niagara Falls
Subbaraman N V (9/17/2007 2:15:00 AM) Absolutely great! That is why the great saint Thiruvalluvar, the author of the THIRUKKURAL observed 'Ya kaavaaraayinum naa kaakka - kaavaakkaal sokaappar sollizukkuppattu' Whatever you take care of or not, be sure to take care of your tongue, lest you will come to great grief!
Charles Chaim Wax (1/15/2006 9:58:00 AM) a poem of truth the grand snake a wonder and so beautiful the human really twisted and sometimes sordid words ripping up truth a fine poem
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)