Emily Dickinson

her mind is her husband and her heart, his wife
between them, she daily thinks about how
to to keep each other entertained
verses, rhymes her answers to her society's
foibles and beliefs beyond her time
the husband sings, and the wife dances
the children run in all the hidden pages
till one day they accidentally find themselves
in the gardens of everybody's thoughts

Poem about Poetry - Layers of Consciousness

the trees, the mountains and rivers
transmit layers of consciousness
songs of incarnated states
now nature looks me back in the eyes
to unravel the things beyond them;
the moon, the sun and the stars
each of which carries symbols
and tales, rainbows that span
the horizon of my consciousness

the layers of thoughts nature parlays
in front of me carress this river of consciousness
i look at the sun and feel breathless
of the hope it still inspires and understand
how much tears it had helped to wipe
the round fiery sphere that now evokes
water and flame over the corridors of my mind

Jahan and Mumtaz, are you walking
the lane of love again, hand in hand
eyes glued to the pinnacle of love the Taj Mahal?

i look at the moon and realise the countless
nights it had helped illuminate for love wishes
to be made and prayers to be recited

i look at the river and see a quiet and
collected monk journeying in quest for nirvana
i see the vapour of the river rises to form rain
then beat down to reprise another tale of
the pain of growth physical and spiritual

in between all this, a young man looks back
and is fascinated by how everything has added
up to make this consciousness a bearer to all
that has gone beyond; mountain beyond
mountain, horizon over horizon

Early Spring Song

i am from a tropical land
anything above 10 degree C
i can take, anything below
i would be running for cover
lend me your hands
lend me your bossom
give me your love better still
so that i can feel the warmth
of spring again, the spring of life

sakuras have finally bloomed
abundant as the stars in the sky
waving to us all over
luscious white and pink
feverishly pirouetting to the
celebratory laughters and songs
below the grand looking trees

each a fairest belle, a keen
eager cheerleader out to inspire
each and everyone to embrace
the new season before time could
rob them of their perfect gifts

look into my eyes, lead me into
those mersmerising dilating windows
centrum of love, where the warmth of
spring hangs over as if it will never go away

john tiong chunghoo