JOHN TIONG What do an art director and an old artist in a new gallery have in common? They both wish to paint their lives in the best possible colours, to bring out the best in each other. The third gallery of Purplehouz Fine Arts in Jalan Chantek, Petaling Jaya, which opened recently s just a stone’s throw from the second gallery - opened last year - close to the residential area in Jalan Gasing. The owners, among them, Navinder Gill, have chosen to take art away from the commerical complexes so that art can better appreciated, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Gallery director of the lattest addition to the Purplehouz, Ee Soon Wei, who is active in the theatre scene says art seems to be the next best thing to do after theatre. He has made a career switch from printing to an art dealer. It is killing two birds with one stone - what better way is there for an art collector than to be a partner in a business where art is all what that matters? The Australian graduate has collected paintings over the last four years, including those of luminaries such as Datuk Chuah Thean Teng and Khalil Ibrahim. He would love to collect more of the local artists, and of course introducing the best to his clients. The first art exhibition of the new gallery features 41 pieces of artwork of 83-year-old Penang artist Lee Joo For, who surprisingly has been living in Melbourne since the early 70s. Apart from paintings, are his monoprint and linocut. What makes Lee’s paintings intriguing is his use of animals and celestial objects to convey his thoughts, such as horses, bulls, sun, moon, and tigers. In some of his paintings are also the anguish he went through when three of his five children were stricken by muscular dystrophy and many others, the unfair treatment of women. Lee’s art is a blend of western techniques, calligraphy, and his love of sketches. He uses acrylic, oil and chinese ink on canvas and paper but is equally adept in presenting his works in mixed media on paper. This exhibition, 40 years of Lee Jor For, till June 30, is rare in that it offers a broad section of the work of Lee over the last many decades. Lee who has been described as “underrated” by those in the art world is one of the few major artists born in the 20s who are still living. What makes his paintings worth collecting is that they were painted by an artist who has also achieved distinction in the theatre world, and an accomplished poet. Lee thrice won won the Malaysian Drama Festival Best Playwright of the year from 1969-1971 and was also the Best Radio Playwright Singapore, 1969. So owning his works has so much more of that premium touch and exclusiveness. One day, one can even auction them away in the land of the Aussies. Lee’s work tells us a lot about his involvement in theatre arts. Many of the paintings are so dramatic, they feel like scenes of a play on the stage. This is especially so in Our Pride and Sorrow (1998) where Lee painted himself and wife praying for their children who were stricken by muscular dystrophy. Both are kneeling while a magnanimous looking Christ shows some children a path. Below the left of a cross, an eye, that of God, looks on. Bulls are seen almost riding over some helpless children, as if fate is working against them. Lee uses his bulls to depict the negative forces of life. Lee’s sun or moon represent the Creator, and he uses them in many of his paintings to show how humanity cannot tear themselves away from the one above. Horses especially help translate his idea of humanity effectively. The animal embodies the grace of a woman, steadfastness of men and the supreme intelligence of the Creator, he said. The bold and breezy strokes Lee used for his horses evoke the overpowering energy found in the animal especially when it is geared up for action. The horses always carry that subtle message of the human struggle for what he desires, how he harnesses his will, sometimes in an almost chaotic manner, like horses. Lee said of them: “My horses are humanity. They stare or glare at you or throw sidelong glances or look back at us, accusing us of our inhumanity to man.” In Lee’s strokes, one can also experience the exploding energy one sees in humanity. This is especially so in the piece Horse Looking Back (1966). The well built physique especially the legs and muscles are so all so well executed, one could feel the animal racing across the paper, its head turned almost in an involuntary haste. Another spectre of the of horses can be felt in the Sarong Women on Horses (1944), where four women are portrayed as proud handlers of horses, representing the men they wish to control. The swirl of their hair and the fluid strokes for horses against a background of fiery orange red sky, yellow earth and sun succeeds in evoking the dilemma these women face as they try to control men. The allure of the painting is also in the women who are all in sarong and baring their shoulders. The dramatic world of men, women and animals is held together by God represented by the sun above the women. The other horse paintings not to be missed are Bold Woman on Horse (1977), Dead Heat Race (1969) Horse Energy (1973) and Racing Horse Profiles (1985). One other painting that clearly elucidates the inexorable forces and energy in animals is the Restless Tigers (1993). Restless Tigers draws out the fearsome nature of tigers through a maddening swirl of bold black strokes, so that the animals are all claws, canines and raised tails, all ready for for a deadly assault. The ferocity of the animals in their strip fortresses screams out to us on a a red background used to great effect. Two paintings that reveal the soft spots of Lee towards the women, especially their subjugated position, shine through in Interior People (1979) and Eating Desperation (1998). In the former a woman is featured in a foetal position, suggesting woman being trapped by the traditional bonds and cultural prejudices. In the latter, subservient women are seen serving a table of men as they eat. Some women were painted wailing. Lee said of what influenced him to paint the picture; “I saw exploitation within my own family with my brothers using my sisters as slaves. I saw them eating more than they should and leaving so little for my sisters.” Pictures in Fotostation: 1. Lee Joo For’s Bold Woman on Horse painted in 1977 2. Sarong Women on Horses which symbolise women trying to control their men. 3. Horse Looking Back (1966) shows Lee’s mastery in executing the horse. 4. Interior People shows a woman trapped in a world where prejudices work against them. 5. Gallery director Ee Soon Wei posing with one of Lee Joo For’s paintings. in W:\Life & Times\6june2012 slug...Joofor Caption: One prized painting of Lee Joo For...Restless Tigers (1993). slug...Joofor2... Lee Joo For (left) (please cut to show only Lee Joo For as I dont know who the other man is).

Dont Go Far Off, Stay Close Pablo

dont go far off stay close
stay where you have always been
like the sun, for eons, never disappointing
sending its light and cheers
the moon, never haunting,
for eons sending its inspiraton
dont go far off stay close
make my day a blessing to have
and night a sanctuary to luxuriate in
dont go far stay close
let your laughters fill my day
and your breath, my breath
let the day brighten up with optimism
and the night a wonder drive for morrow
dont go far stay close
as close as the heart can be
because when you are gone
the days are as good as it is without
the sun and the night moon
and the beach without the water
to carress and serenade its love song

(In Memory of Pablo Neruda)

Haiku collection

Sunset Taj
a love intensifies in
the diminishing light

a saffron
shrouded sun
the buddha

Chap Goh Meh
this lovely cat her eyes
bright like the moon

Tapestry of the mind
filling up the gap
between the stitches

new oil find
an excitement floating
over dilemmas

what a lovely valentine
another dictator
gone

there she is
lost like an ant
miss self conceited

Sniffing here
sniffing there
miss want-to-get-forward

valentine's wish -
love to grow many folds
like the price of roses

February high noon
the icicle tearful
farewell to winter

HIs overblown ego
every of his words sharpens one's knife
for the throat

every inch every line
nature's accents its mood
flowers everywhere

In between our talk
of an old disappearance
the freshness of tea

CHinese new year
the nian wants to run away
from it all

Haiku Collection

Yokohama sakura
my heart light
as the wind

folded cranes
one thousand and one wishes
for Japan

snow peak and fiery sky
a ballet dancer swirls
with all her ambitions

still stunning and waiting
at angkor wat corridors
heavenly nymphs

snow capped peaks and
the fiery sky
melt my heart

between the rushes,
gushes of the waterfall
angler quietly waits for his day

face
the mind's
twin brother

the cherry blossom
radiates so many feelings
this spring

dawn ganges
the chant of shiva rides
the light waves

dawn ganges
trailing the light
my chant of shiva

three cats
two facing
the other

earth hour
brightness and darkness
in our hands

haiku - the password to
a treasured and
enlightened moment

Liz taylor's love for the Ms
money, men and men with aids
leaves the first M to charity

in the flurry oftsunami
death radio news
cherry blossoms fall

tohoku tsunami aftermath
the snow weeping
on my face

Liz taylor tribute haiku

lost - the pair of translucent eyes
celluloids make
so exciting

yoga reflexology
an inner light corresponds
to each cakra

supermoon
quake victims willy nilly
take a look

supermoon
the size of my
fascination

supermoon
my fascination tonight
too ballooned

in the arch
of the rainbow
a gown of bliss

tilting up and down
a row of pigeons
on a loose wire

smile and laugh
putting wings
to my day

the stream flows
trailing time
in a canvas of infinity

dawn lotuses
i am open to all
fresh ideas

anger
the body burning up
itself

rain
in its sound
me

death anniversary
the field full with
migratory birds

sunset nostalgia
those empty days when my mind
was full of you

new spring kimono
trailing the fragrance
of the fresh blossom

spring
riding the nose
to me

friightened octopus
legs at loggerheads
with each other

approaching spring
an excitement thrusting over
the landscape of my mind

dawn nettles
at each tip
the day's light

in the tranquility
of the buddha's curvatures
yesterday's rain

skewering the heart
first pimple
on the face

a shadow
the crescent
emrbaces

journey to Shirdi
between the leaves
the welcoming light of Sai

the snow
weeps
on my face

i met Roberta many years back. The first impression of her...

with a deep hurt
she calls out
my name

In the lake too
blessings of the new day
the sun, the trees, and the bliss

New Haiku Collection

shrivelled leaf
i still hold onto
the sweet moments

morning dew drops
such tender refreshing
youthfulness - you

striking like the collapse
of another huge tower
bin laden's death

Nature
the soul
of God

sunday late noon rain
hynoptising, the hasty feet
clapping hands of rain

fleece in the sky
my worries have found company
and slowly drift away

William Kate Royal Wedding
I feel the joy of youth
again

so dearly facing the sky
between me and the rose
a sacred intelligence?

that star
i faintly remember
a long lost friend

black cat in the dark
its eyes help me
see it

sea death
a bouquet of roses washed
ashore

Haiku and other writings

They write their articles like upper form students who try out all the words they have just learned making their article strange and not coherent. I say you can use less of the big words, write more creatively and still win the Nobel prize.

I admire some writers who use their words in such a prudent manner
so that when you read their work, you just want to read more...and never give up.

I love writings by Nobel prize winners because they create beautiful art and cultural pictures with their cleverly chosen words... and usually not those which would overwhelm you or put you in a very inadequate situation.

Second Haiku Collection February 17, 2011

February high noon
the icicle's tearful
farewell to winter

There is one thing I will just laugh off without fighting back - when someone labels me a terrible writer.

I told them if you are always so negative about your staff, your company is going to go nowhere.

his overblown ego
every of his words sharpens the knife
for his throat

It is good that God does not reveal too much of himself. It would have killed the real fun.

One Malaysia
the land below the wind
the torch bearer

The strangest experience while criss crossing Borneo is the sight of posters of Prophet Mohammad's footprint for sale as well as people hanging them in their shops perhaps to bring good luck. John wonders whether this is allowed in Malaysia. Feels strange that the poster of the Prophet is not allowed while his footprint is allowed. Can someone enlighten me as this reporter just wants to know more.


every inch every line
nature's accents its mood
flowers everywhere

Back from criss crossing Borneo....found that you cannot drive from Banjermasin to Pontianak because there is no road yet. However, covered Samarina, Balik Papan and Banjermasin on the East and Southern coast. Overhead at the airport...."We all
thought Kalimantan is all forest until we found these modern towns. It is just not so backward."


Nature is game for life no matter how small it is, how trivial each is. it soon raises dust to a a creature, infuses its own thoughts so that it livens up life. look at the clouds in the sky, sooner or later, the wind makes them into shapes of birds, rabbits and doggies....nature is game for life...no matter how trivial they are.

met so many different groups of people this morning. Borneo has seen migration from Java and other parts of Indonesia since long time ago. The man who took me on a cruise of the Mahakam was a Bugis, the one whotook me tothe Bali hindu temple a Javanese, met Chinese at the Tua Pek Kong temple and bumped into dayaks here and there.

took the one hour flight back to Balik Papan last night instead of the 15 hour gruelling drive over dangerous mountain terrain and was immediately whisked to Samarinda, the town by Boneo's longest river the mighty Mahakam. IT just dawned on me that Borneo is the largest island at the Equator....it is the oldest natural rainforest and a giant storehouse of great herbs and plants.


cameron highlands
over the tea fields
a mysterious appearance

in between our talk
of an old disappearance
the freshness of tea

The road from Balik Papan on the west east coast of Borneo to Banjermasin, the main town in the south really threw me off my seat. It was a hair raising experience as our bus passed by deep gorges both on the left and right in the middle of the night. All i could see were tree tops and tall ferns. The driver had to negotiate his way. by folllowing the white line in the middle of the all the three hours we were on the highlands. In Banjermasin, I heard from the Banjermasin folks that the annual plunges average about two.The best part about Banjermasin is that it has some of the most beautiful mosques i have ever seen in the travel throughut the Indonesian archipelago. The main mosque has a dome shaped like a huge flying saucer.

Chinese new year
the nian wants to run away
from it all

winter wish
sakura, sakura sings
in me

bombay shah rukh han posters
the sea, the ghettos
and the dreams

adam's apple
how deep and vocal
this downfall

beauty of butterflies
helping the forest flourish
and the flowers bloom

singapore travel
an emptiness orchard road
could not fill out

Haiku Collection - FFebruary 17, 2011

Chap Goh Meh
this lovely cat her eyes
bright like the moon

tapestry of the mind
filling up the gap
between the stitches


all about presentations
the cheers inside
and out

new oil find
an excitement floating
over dilemmas

a lovely valentine
another dictator
gone

when the bosses talk about circulation,
i really think about circulation,
the body circulation.

they live like nuns
it is written all over
the faces

valentine cake from one
who doesnt like me too much
she is so sweet

miss out of the blue laughter
she wont save herself
with that

there she is
lost like an ant
miss self conceited

sniffing here
sniffing there
miss want-to-get-forward

the dwindling figure
i shudder as miss know all

passes by
egypt revolution
every reason why the pyramid
still stands so tall

a new child
a new warmth
in the family

valentine's wish -
love to grow many folds
like the price of roses

I refuse to follow the art critics. I pick the painting that my heart says is the best, not the opinions of others. Taste like talent is an ingrained thing. You dont need people to tell you which colour you must like. That applies to my body chemistry that determines what i like.

i told him "Tune down your ego a bit, tune up the width of your pupils, the focus of your ears, eyes and mind. You would have arrived at a more workable gadget for the survival of the fittest."

the wait
a thirst fires up
a little corner

Haiku postings Nov 29 - Dec 3 2010

love
more than fire
can burn up

stirring song from the
old roman column
stork's nestlings

yokohama Symbol Tower
we reach the utmost
of our stamina

bahrain male doctor's dilemma
see but dont look when
checking women's genitals

flickering birthday candles
she steadies herself to
blow them all out

big bang
it too starts
with a liquid

this body
a mere instrument
to God

DNA
your thumb print
my thumb print

first snow
the geisha powders herself
whiter than usual

earth are you
the only one in the universe
that breathes?

first snow
the roads and rail
in a snarl

paper
what is written there what is not
there too

death
nature's way to help us savour
life


I asked the myanmar waitor
whether it is a rough ride
from yangon to mandalay
and he replied that the road is good
it looks like i will be my own rough
road in my travel there

truth
good and evil try to find
a balance in the man

It was such an embarrassment. The editor accepted my contributions, and asked for my bio. I wrote back with the note: this is my bio. I did write a bit about the awards that I won but that's not really the problem. She never even bothered to erase the line This is my Bio...making me look so pompous in the succeeding lines. I will be very careful next time when submitting to magazine.

muay thai
loud speakers roar
through phuket streets

Femme fatale
the artist distils every inch of her
on the canvas

femme fatale
every inch of her touched
the artist's brush

femme fatale
with a brush the artist helps
her bloom on the canvas

femme fatale
the artist helps her soul live on
on his canvas

i am not into the things on the painting
they can be lousy squares, imperfect circles,
a windtorn spider web or or a downed pyramid
i am into the things they evoke in me
unblocking the minds from the mundane
thoughts held bondage by suicidal conventions

evening candles
on the wall shadow
dances with light

breeze
lips and lips of smile
in the lake

To sample haiku into one big magazine is not the way to treat haiku. it is like putting people into a concentration camp. you cannot really enjoy them. haiku has to be encountered each like a new friend on the street. They cannot come into your life like a noisy intruding crowd.

new day
the children in the school
waking me up

Poetry is more than food. It helps bring together all the consciousness of my existence, even those days when I lived as a worm

Sunset Snake

To sample haiku into one big magazine is not the way to treat haiku. it is like putting people into a concentration camp. you cannot really enjoy them. haiku has to be encountered each like a new friend on the street. They cannot come into your life like a noisy intruding crowd.

new day
the children in the school
waking me up

dont care about them - those who snigger about your cyber habit...it is nobody's business. if it is an addiction it is a healthy addiction...just dont spoil your eyesight or forget your meal and healthy relatonship with real people...that's all. the world can say what they like.

Hatred breeds confusion. Clear thinking and careful action can come only when the heart is free from hatred. The laws of God are eternal, lofty and deep. The man who is obedient to them will be happy and after death, will experience joy unsurpassable.
- a book of hinduism.

sunset snake
a luminous red slowly
devoured by night

beach holiday
the coconut trees dance
more wildly than us

sunday blues
adrift on the web
spun round the universe

pouch kangaroo
the dawn sun slowly crawls
over the mountain

With my news article and feature stories published in Hong Kong, Malaysia and Singapore as early as the 80s, I am quite proud of my own writing achievement. So when this reporter friend said I dont know how to write news, the only thing I could do is laugh instead of show grievance. This reporter cannot get the facts in the office correct, how to do the outside?

There is not such a cradle of democracy upon the earth as the Free Public Library; this republic of letters, where neither rank, office, nor wealth receives the slightest consideration. ~Andrew Carnegie

beach walk
stress rides
the waves

harem idle hours
unveiling a part of herself
she holds so dear
...
Cameron Highlands Haiku:

Brinchang mossy forest
a past she holds onto still
gives her the shudders

Jimmy Choo so obliging you can wear his shoes

daughter's water colour seladang
a sea of admiration charges
through the office

beach walk
stress rides
the waves

harem idle hours
unveiling a part of herself
she holds so dear

Brinchang mossy forest
a past she holds onto still
gives her the shudders

Brinchang mossy forest
a harboured past that still
gives her the shudders

HERE is our Brain Series 2 - the bus stop with the glass roofing.

Well, it shields us from the rain but not the hot sun. So those people with high blood pressure cannot sit there to wait for their bus. It is too much for them too when they have to wait elsewhere and run to the bus when it arrives. This bus stop at Brickfields.....a pain I think to many.

childhood memories fly
in and out of my mind
like butterflies

every day is a new born baby. carry it well and you will see it smiling to you, cheering you up. you will never see every day as the same anymore.

every day is a new born baby. carry it well and you will see it smiling to you, cheering you up. you will never see every day as the same anymore.

Loy krathong moon
in my heart
a tide of wishes

love, sins and negativities
feed flames that consume
the darkness of the world


"The fog descends
in the wee hours of dawn
like a sacred thing."

Loy Krathong (thai new year)
our wishes float down the river
in candlelight

Reincarnation spectre
her contours stirring the heat
in the African desert

portrait of the French Lady
she holds tight to the
pleasures of her life


I
smell
God

jimmy Choo so obliging
you can wear
his shoes


chapters of my life
on the pavement
leaves flying asunder

difficult times
mother and child holding
onto a bleakness

Loy Krathong Moon

loy krathong moon
so bright a wish soars
from my heart

loy Krathong (thai new year)
our wishes float down the river
in candlelight

reincarnation spectre
her contours stirring the heat
in the African desert

Gunung Merapi

troubled times
gunung merapi and obama
each sounding louder

Blooming just as well, the lady with flowers in her basket

reincarnation spectre
her contours stirring the heat
in the African desert

portrait of the French Lady
she holds tight to the
pleasures of her life

i
smell
God

Jimmy Choo so obliging
you can wear his shoes
if they fit you

chapters of my life
on the pavement
leaves flying asunder

difficult times
mother and child holding
onto a bleakness

the red rose too
finds its way up
to praise its Creator

Kinabatangan river cruise
our eyes darting around
like monkey

flower selling girl
at her quiet corner
a basket of dreams

lake of consciousness
a lotus charges up to claim
the beauty of transcience

as he strikes his plough
on the soil he picks up vibrations
of all his existence

as he strikes his plough
on the soil, vibrations of all
his existence bounce back

consciousness
a timeless zen
everything falls into

consciousness
timeless
transcience

consciousness
a lake of timelessness
transcience dances a ballet

nature's expanse
one little corner
streaming with life

blooming just as well
the lady with flowers
in her basket

My journalist friend told me he is always frightened of being thought as not an intellectual, so he uses the most specfic words to describe his experiences for his feature stories...words that you wont come across again half your life.

I so fear readers may not understand my writing, i use the simplest of words for my work, poems, prose or newspaper features.

the midnight bus leaves me
in the shadows
of a haunted house

bakun dam
a whole town wallows
in troubled waters

The Days

My journalist friend told me he is always frightened of being thought as not an intellectual, so he uses the most specfic words to describe his experiences for his feature stories...words that you wont come across again half your life.

dam here dam there
damned here damned there
Be damned that's all

I so fear readers may not understand my writing, i use the simplest of words for my work, poems, prose or newspaper features.

the midnight bus leaves me
in the shadows
of a haunted house

there used to be haunted wooden house on stilts that cast long shadows onto the street as bus passed by. i used to drop off near here because it was near my house. my hair always stood on ends when i was here because of the menacing shadows. what was most strange was that you could see a flight of stairs at the rear between the stilts leading to the first floor. it was most eerie. the house was torn down two years ago.

the stairs looked frighteningly inviting, an oppresive emptiness full with the vibes of evil ever ready take into its fold the unsuspecting visitor.

i heard that people who slept in the house would find themselves outside the house. shadows ran here and there. according to beliefs when a haunted house is torn down, the evil goes with it because they fear sunlight. that's why sometimes people tear down the roofs of their houses when they know they are haunted.

i must say the house faced the intersection of three roads, two
divided by a road island from the opposite direction and the other
right in front.


bakun dam
a whole town wallow
in troubled waters

troubled times
gunung merapi and obama
each sounding louder


gunung merapi eruptions
for the first time the child
hears about krakatoa


It is technologically possible to devise a soul for a man if he is born without one. John looks to the future.

The following by Gert Sonderby:

A big question that's been asked time and again is "What is the nature of the soul?" We've found no material evidence of even its existence - but that doesn't necessarily make it nonexistent. After all, the vast majority of the interesting stuff in our brain is purely informational - signals going to and fro between nerve cells in that big lump of gray matter we do our thinking with. Well, I'm a software developer - for me it's easy to see the soul as, well, software of a kind. It's the system that our brains run on, that it does what it does by.

The way I see it, if there were a Creator he'd want us to achieve our fullest potential, to grow and become strong and wise, like any good parent wants for their children. He'd perhaps even want us to eclipse him. Perhaps in the way he once eclipsed his own creator? Who knows.

But I do know that a good parent teaches his or her child to grow to their fullest potential, to become all that they can be. Whether there is a creator or not is moot to the question: We should strive to become greater (in the true sense of the word) than we are

As such, anyone, or really any -thing- with significant brain activity can be said to have a soul. And what's more, theoretically, such a soul is transferrable - clone a new body, transfer the software (never interrupting its running) to the new one - and the person inhabiting the old body now inhabits the new. This gets highly interesting when you consider that a sufficiently advanced computer probably could run a soul as well... Or that you could potentially copy it into two bodies... Or perhaps even meld two versions of the same consciousness back together into one.

One thing is certain: The future will be a very interesting place.


the world is
a crystal ball
you can wish for anything


the old summer leaf
a gentle brittle grace
trailing the breeze

http://www.slideshare.net/kuronekosan/gce-o-level-2010-section-b-unseen-poemthose-layered-cakes-by-john-tiong-chung-hoo

gert:

ou can find schmucks everywhere. Religious of any stripe, non-religions, actively anti-religious. But there's good folk too. Saying that 'Islam does not respect' other religions is... shall we say using a somewhat broad brush. Sure some of the louder people involved are not too pleasant - but they're not the only ones, just the newsworthy ones.

Did you know that, for instance, a number of prominent American Islamic clerics issued a fatwa condemning attacks on the USA as harmful to fellow Muslims and against the will of God? That sort of thing you will never see in the news, right along with the many moderate and very sensible Christians, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists and atheists around. The ones you do see are the ones who shriek loudly and shrilly at one another, because -that's- newsworthy. For some reason.

the cat sleeping by the bus stop
it meows a world of loss when i pat it
two times on the head

the days are my morphine
have you anything against it?
i have been abusing myself

buddha's enlightenment
at the tree canopy
light dances with leaves

After disrupting all my morning sleep, chasing away the birds and bungling
my weekends the last three years, the 15 storey high class condominum behind ours is ready, spic and span, a enviable spacious living space that will soon be filled with people you see occupying the smart offices in and around Kuala Lumpur.

a smile that sends
the world reeling
mona lisa

Angkor Temples

a smile that sends
the world reeling
mona lisa

Madeleine...every real artist is a perfectionist...transfering real life into a piece of canvas is not that easy but i would say leonardo is very successful in that...seeing mona lisa...you can sense that he had even transferred the veins and arteries inside the person there....the whole picture is filled with a force that can only be his |"life and blood".

mona lisa
the world lining up
too see her smile

artists like poets i think are born...you really need those extra thngs..innate talents to bring out the life of a person on a little canvas.

Yes, i agree. It is the most difficult thing to do a dull thing with style. If one can do that....wow.....that's art. making the dull thing comes into life...into an excitement..

I think I can relate tio that more because I work in a newspaper. Almost everyday journalists face the same news... and it is for them to make them appetising for the readers ...the people in the newspapers are perpetual artists....making the dull things come alive...with style

all cells stilled for
the artist to concentrate
on the most beautiful me


i still the world
for a permanent place
- on a painting

i still myself
to leave myself
- in a painting

i still myself
to be frozen
on a canvas

i let the artist
freeze me on
a canvas

waterfall outing
the ladies bubbly
like the water

orange roses
nature hugs us with
such fiery emotion

angkor temples
still holding onto power
giant old roots

childhood lane
did mom drop any
of her dreams here?

God probably wants me
to be his sob story
- a poet

Deepavali postings

deepavali
her fiery red vibuthi, renewed spirit
light up his life

deepavali
in this year's light
last year's wish again

childhood lane
did mom drop any
of her dreams here?

sunset lotuses
they too have closed
for the day

My friend Sterling Price said this which I think is very clever: "To me, the word "I" is not a noun but a verb, constantly changing. So who we are is a marvelous kaleidoscope".

God probably wants me
to be his sob story
- a poet

to awaken the poet in anybody, you need to put him through all sorts of experiences...usually the worst kinds....like chiselling a flower from a very hard stone. of course, then he also must have acquired that language skills....it is only through the hands of God/nature that a poet can be born. i hope i am right in explanation. i also hope i will not be perceived as self conceited. it is just a way of getting things out of my system and understand the situation one is in.

an upper intelligence shapes our being....like the flowers in the garden. the human has a choice though...sometimes in contradiction with the choice of this intelligence's natural choice ..that's why the dilemma


deepavali
in this year's light
last year's wish again

the beauty of the season.....season of light...flame flickering,..flickering.....ligting up our wishes

hey walk around
pieces of ice crying
to be melted and warmed

in your warmth
the layers bloom
like a lotus

our seasons
the poet grasping his thought
for lines

We are an infinite space our bodies hold onto for survival and guidance. We take the bodies as our pets, pampering, satiating their wildest egos knowing one day we will part ways.

the rejang
tearing
a river of tears

just so thinly veiled
to let the body
talk to you

all souls day
the same smile from the child
next to grandma's grave

cruising, i refuse
to stop by the port of
self conceitedness

hong kong wine and dine festival
our main appetiser
the victoria harbour

i am the earth
plant all your beliefs
onto me

Bintulu kite festival
sweeping us off our feet
coral fishes in the sky

A large rectangular opening is left on this condominum for good fengshui effect. People in Hong Kong are fierce believers in the fortuen of wind and water. The condominum is in Repulse Bay, the best place in Hong Kong to live because the prosperity element here is best according to fengshui master. We passed by the house of Jackie Chan as well as Run Run Shaw.

ust so thinly veiled
to let the body
talk

all souls day
the same smile from the child
next to grandma's grave

i am the earth
plant all your beliefs
onto me

Haiku collection

i hand on to transcience
like it is a commodity
only to be smitten with tears
i thought about nirvana
like it is a commodity
to be had eternally
only to be smitten with tears

cruising, i refuse
to stop by the port of
self conceitedness

watering my plants
the zen of sound
relaxes my senses

watering my plants
the zen of sound
relaxes my senses

i am the earth
plant all your beliefs
onto me

Bintulu kite festival
sweeping us off our feet
coral fishes in the sky

roses are nature's prayers
trying to reach out
to the Creator

the roses
folds of
nature's gratitude

courtship
clothes unveil
the heart

coursthip
clothes fail to conceil
what the heart desires

little mermaid
never drying up
the sea and her love

bakun dam
impounded
the rejang and its people

one dropped leaf
the ants' green meal
feeds my fascination

rush hour subway train
donald duck on my shirt
kisses her mickey mouse

young girl and dove
each longs for
a flight of passion

One dropped leaf

Sapeh recital
the warmth of orang ulu
worms its way into my heart

rainbow
it has been so long
childhood memory

Tao means
giving people their dues
and yourself a chance to grow

facebook birthday do
friend asks how long
they have not really met

young woman in white hat
bursting with sexual maturity
the artist's strokes

Wish to know something about haiku. Read this. It is very enlightening about short poetry that reveals to us the power of the "unsaid" . Robert Wilson, the owner of Simply Haiku magazine shares his ideas.

one dropped leaf
the ants' green meal
feeds my fascination


rush hour subway train
donald duck on my shirt
kisses her mickey mouse

Really admire Najib. So steady in his closing speech, as if talking to one family. Admire him for his steadiness and nonchalance though so much criticism has been hurled against him in cyberspace.

young girl and dove
each longs for
a flight of passion

autumn stillness
enjoying the clatter
of my clogs

husband at sea
swept asunder by the fear
of his safety

vain courtship
in the summer heat
the rage of love

Halloween
child tells mom to buy
a not so scary mask

LIGHT THERAPY
-----------------
the candle burns away sins,
hatreds and pent up feelings
ill energies hindering us
flickers and flickers
it evokes a triumphant feel
cresting over me
the fire burns away
all the ill stars around us
brighter and brighter it becomes
ushering in all the good luck

living by someone's else script

living by someone else's script
i walk the middle path with fulll respect
of what is reaped

sibu landscape
slowly nearing
my dream