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THE FRIGATE BIRD OF CHRISTMAS ISLAND
O Frigate Bird without a
song
You're seen to fly the whole day long
You do present a splendid sight
To roam the sky is your delight
You flutter not your fanned wing
Yet graceful is your hovering
You flaunt not hues of peacock proud
You're not as clumsy as the cloud
You may not have a lark's sweet song
It matters not at all as long
As grace and freedom you possess
For you to fly is happiness
I see you lack no
company
To share your wanton aerial spree
Your kith and kin you've with you
Round you there're always not a few
You know no work as I can see
You're free as free can only be
You know not time nor toil nor care
Your lot is soaring in the air
Your winged majesty you show
To earthbound creatures here below
You surely provoke jealousy
So that like you I wish to be
You're truly made to ride the sky
From where you watch the world go by
Among the feathered kind you're rare
Your fluent flight the rest don't share
You're free of city
stress and strain
You struggle only with the rain
Your stomach must be ulcer free
A great life yours must truly be
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
TRANQUIL WATERS to TURBULENT WAVES
It's tranquil still and
halcyon calm
Reflecting rays of blinding sun
The fish
disport in waters clear
Their rainbow hues delight us sheer
The corals too their
forms display
Fantastic shapes and colours gay
Then clouds
foreboding dense and gray It's hush before the
raging storm The ripples
turn to boiling sea They foam and froth they
groan and growl They smash
and bash the cliff in vain The resonance of crashing
waves we hear The waters
wild is a stunning sight
They shroud the earth from the light of day
Thence blows the gale in furious form
The waves surge high and creatures flee
Their tantrums show in ways most foul
The rocks stand stiff with full disdain
The sprays are like the sparks of fire
When calm and clear evokes delight
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
The rose is common but
not plain
This gift sublime is man's full gain
The garden is not quite right
Without this flower to make it bright
Throughout the world it
reigns supreme
In beauty sweetness or amorous theme
In blushing pink or subtle gold
In mauve not garish but gorgeous bold
No others have its
glorious charm
To cast those spells that do no harm
We cull an idiom from this plant
A bed of roses we all want
Its fragrance is beyond
compare
Its perfume spreads in the garden air
To make your day and lift your heart
The lovely rose can play a part
When you're tired stressed
or sad
This dazzling blossom makes you glad
This splendid aromatic bloom
Can drive away the blues and gloom
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
FairPrice grows and grows
To many chain stores
It's
the place to go
There're provisions galore
To FairPrice I head
For my daily bread
On
its shelves I find
Food of every kind
Viands from every clime
Tidbits for TV time
Sweet
fruits from lush trees
Fresh fish from deep seas
Prime beef for my steak
Currants for my fruit cake
These
things I buy and more
From FairPrice superstore
Prices here I don't
regret
Quality is what I get
At this super mart
Emile S.T. Cheng
(Published in the July 2000 issue of "Lifestyle!")
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
ON BOARD THE SLOW BOAT TO CHRISTMAS ISLAND
From stem
to stern it's gleaming white
Aboard it's dingy not quite bright
The decks are strewn with dirt and dust
The rails do have a lot of rust
From
Norway hails the Captain Jack
He knows not that his crew are slack
From time to time his face he shows
And otherwise to bed he goes
Sea
cruises many he has made
He knows the seas full well it's said
An old salt thirty years he's been
And many Orient ports he's seen
The chief
of steward fat is he
His work is light as we can see
His gambling prowess we do know
He loves to watch his money grow
Of family
life he is bereft
His wife in Hong Kong he has left
Of sea life he is very fond
He's been to places far beyond
Another
steward gay is he
At times he's busy as a bee
A friend is he to pretty girls
To win their hearts his charm unfurls
Obliging
friendly lad is he
He carries bag and baggage free
He's noted for his honesty
We like his true geniality
The
cook his name "Kou Lou" we call
And also "Panjang" 'cause he's tall
Finesse he shuns when he cooks
Imagine what the outcome looks
The
cabins all are stifling hot
The travellers doubtless sweat a lot
The taps all flow in sudden spurts
To work the flush your hand sure hurts
The ship
has reached its port of call
The journey's end is glad to all
The crew and captain go ashore
To have a swinging time once more
"Kou Lou" - Tall one in Cantonese
"Panjang" - Tall in MalayCopyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Time
slips by without your knowing
Life is truly brief and fleeting
Make it worry-free and peaceful
Also rich in love and blissful
Peace is
born of meditation
Happiness of generous action
They can give you calm and balance
If you listen to their silence
There is
time to be a dreamer
Pause awhile to stare and wonder
Hear the silence of your being
For your spirit's good and healing
See the
carefree birds a-fluttering
Listen to the leaves a-rustling
There are boundless natural treasures
These are gifts of wholesome pleasures
What's
the use of milk and honey
If this life is filled with stress and worry
Live life fully give it meaning
Praying thinking sharing loving
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
The rainbow in the sky
is wondrous;
This sign of hope God gives to us.
The clouds maybe dark and dense to-day,
But fear not they will drift away.
The sun, its shine and smile
it will bring;
The birds will come out and merrily sing;
The blossoms too their glory display;
And happy children will laugh and play.
The sun
maybe hidden by the clouds;
The shine will come without a doubt;
Expect the rainbow of hope to appear,
To fill your heart with abundant cheer.
Be not
afraid when clouds are dark,
And spirits are low and times are hard;
There is always a hopeful tomorrow;
Believe that hope's rainbow will glow.
When
troubles come in your way;
Take heart, look up and calmly stay;
We know after the storm and rain,
The rainbow of hope will shine again.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S. T. Cheng
I walk
on the sward at the
break of dawn;
It's a pleasant pleasing breezy lawn;
In this nook, on this natural sod,
It's conducive to commune with God.
What
better way to start the day
Than praising the Lord in prayer.
The infinite beauty of His works I see
In a blade of grass a flower on the tree.
The sun,
it wakes up from its sleep;
Then on the horizon it peeps.
It speaks of hope for a peaceful day,
With burdens borne without dismay.
The birds singing, the leaves
rustling,
Their rhythm and music to earth they bring;
The plants perk up to catch the light,
As people walk and enjoy the sight.
Undefiled
is the atmosphere;
Inhale the air that's clean and clear;
The grass, the plants, the birds, the air
Tell us that God is everywhere.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
It's plain that
time passes
And never comes back to us
It passes like a flash
We can't buy it with cash
The fleeting seconds
are real
Not figment of the mind or virtual
The ravages of time we see
In the wrinkled old body
It puzzles us mortals
That time is eternal
But life is temporary
And will end for you and me
Don't laze be lax or
slack
But take the now and act
In ways that bring great joy
That does not hurt or cloy
Though transient is
your life
You still can try and strive
To give love and sympathy -
A lasting legacy
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Clouds
above rendezvous and gather,
Looking dark, thick and dense they shower
Drops of rain on the parched thirsty land,
Executing Mother Nature's plan.
Earthlings need the blessings of the rain;
Man perishes without nourishing grain;
Creatures and crops will doubtless die;
If earth dries up with no water-supply.
Rain is
needed to slake the thirst of man;
Lush green and flourishing, plants can't remain,
Earth will be covered with only rocks and sand
If the water of life doesn't fall on the land.
The
clouds then burst releasing their moisture
On earth, in drops, sheets or showers;
These are pluvial beads that fall with a splash,
Leaving no slivers when they land and crash
Streaks of
lighting flash across the sky;
Peals of thunder are heard in reply;
Rainfall lightning-flare and thunder-roar
Hold us all in electrifying awe.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Resplendent
and radiant the rising sun
It lights up, brightens the breaking morn
The grandeur of this spectacle
Is a divine gift a miracle
And slowly and steadily
the orb climbs
It's mysterious it baffles our minds
The rays break through the clouds
To warm the earth the
blessed sods
Ruddy the clouds and azure
the sky
The heavens they colour and beautify
These works of
God infinite they are
We praise and thank the
Lord in prayer
The grass still damp with dew of
morn
The rustling leaves of nature's own
The early bird that's seeking food
All these tell us that God is good
The moon and
stars are secluded
The veil of night is
gently lifted
Another hopeful day has begun
Responsibilities we must not shun
Enjoy the splendour of the
morn
As a new and hopeful day is born
Ere evening comes and light is
gone
We'll have something noble worthy done
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
The Almighty created the earth
He made the mountains and shaped the peaks
The jagged tops He
covered with snow
He shrouded with mist the slopes below
He placed green grass on the meadows
the plains
In the forests He grew plants and trees
The mammals the birds the reptiles the fish
He gave to each a habitat a niche
He then breathed life into Adam and Eve
He asked the first woman and man
To populate the flourishing land
They duly carried out His plan
But we their children are willing to
waste
The rich resources of the world
We've laid the chain-saws to the trees
And fouled the air the land the seas
We've cleared and destroyed the green
hillsides
And wasted and squandered the mineral wealth
We've littered the countryside the oceans
The earth is in danger of obliteration
We've poisoned the soil with pesticide
And burnt the jungles without restraint
We've filled the air with toxic gas
Endangered the earth with nuclear waste
As days go by more species will die
Can we save the panda the eagle the whale
If we can answer yes to this
They'll then forever in peace exist
The voices and cries to stop the abuse
Of our planet must be loudly heard
Of our patrimony we've to take full care
Before the earth is beyond repair
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
We have a dream; we have a
vision;
We have a target; we have a mission.
In the race of nations we aim for gold;
To get it we've to be creative and bold.
We're a little dot on the map we know.
It's quality we strive to show;
In strength we keep our democracy;
Racial harmony is our philosophy.
Our team of leaders, all
dedicated;
Democratically they're elected;
Their foresight and pragmatic policy
Have led us to success and prosperity.
We educate our daughters and
sons,
According to her/his ability
and talents;
We give them education of the best,
To prepare them for life's hard test.
Our population and land are limited;
Our outlook is global not inward;
We welcome the world in open trade.
The challenges of life we're not afraid.
We welcome talents from
overseas;
We welcome them to live in peace,
To defend our freedom and democracy,
To share our life and destiny.
Pretty and clean our
environment;
We place sculptures and ornaments;
There're shady trees and flowering plants;
Our quality of life they greatly enhance.
We build our houses
reaching the sky;
Our citizens' needs we satisfy.
Our water on tap is purified,
And germ-free, fortified with fluoride.
Our taps all flow; our phones all work;
Our traffic flows without grid-lock.
Electrical power hardly stalls.
It's clean in the rivers, the streets, the malls.
The metal roads are
smooth and good
The cars, well-tuned, have little soot;
The MRT-trains,through tunnels, they move.
The quality of our lifestyle they improve.
A hub of artistic
creations,
Where artistes express their emotions,
Through drama, art, song or dance,
Inspiring, entertaining us.
First class are
facilities for conventions;
We display world
products at expositions;
Intellectuals share ideas at forums;
We learn so much from these outcomes.
In Asia our seaport is second to none;
Our airline and airport are both
well-known.
We render the best services to all;
Our standards and ideals will not fall.
We stay rugged with sports and games.
Achievements in the Olympic Games
We haven't much; we rise and try again;
Eventually we'll realize our aim.
Our city, a centre of the
life sciences,
A hub of IT, banking and finance,
Will make the world a better place;
Our city is a city of learning and grace.
A name our hospitals have
gained;
The doctors are skilful, well trained;
The nurses also play their part,
In healing ills and easing our heart.
Justice and fairness the courts show;
The men in blue enforce the law;
The 'Civil Defence' douses the fires;
The SAF are brave warriors.
The blind, the infirm, the crippled, the
old,
To them we're caring but not cold;
Our suffering brethren need not despair;
Our prosperity with them we share.
There're many races, many
cultures;
Many languages and faiths are
our features;
We live in peace and harmony;
We share the same home and destiny.
We bear no malice to
foreign lands,
In lasting friendship we extend our hand.
We co-operate for mutual gain.
Forever peace is our refrain.
Our nation's flag of red
and white,
On it a crescent and five stars bright;
We wave it high and salute it proudly;
Our anthem we sing lustily.
Our mother-land, our beloved country,
To thee we pledge our loyalty.
We love thee in days whether dark or bright.
In thy accomplishments we take great pride.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
The clouds are dusted with subdued light
when evening comes.
A moment more and twilight is gone
and darkness comes.
The labor, toil and sweat of man
are done for the day.
Before I lie in bed, a prayer
to the Lord I say.
The sounds of nature are magnified
by the still dark night.
The birds are roosting, the cicadas'
are
chirping out of sight.
Though dark the night, the sky with myriad
stars is wondrous.
The moon is like a lantern bright
and solace it bestows.
The time for sleep has come,
and we
can take a rest.
The
light of day has taken flight
the sun is at rest.
The sleep of the innocent and guiltless
mind be yours.
Your sleep be deep and sound, your dreams
be sweet and joyous.
And dream of your
childhood toys and your
carefree
boyhood days;
And dream of the unforgettable cruise,
the happy
holidays.
And dream of the wonderful time
at the Alpine resort.
Tomorrow's cares and problems leave
them to the Lord.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Amidst the
hubbub of the big city,
Maintain your equanimity.
In silence keep your calm and peace.
Your kindness and love let them not cease.
The slow
of wit do not ignore;
Regard them not as fools or bores;
But shun detractors
and backbiters;
Their tongues are poisonous.
Meanness and jealousy do not display.
Accept the role you're given to play.
There're others greater or lesser than you.
In envy, pride and bitterness brew.
Beware of
predatory sharks on land;
Their methods are tricky and underhand.
There're people who need comfort and cheer,
To them you freely lend an ear.
In
business affairs be smart and cautious;
The world has men who are devious.
The people with high ideals we emulate;
Enthusiasm and heroism they generate.
In life we want
happiness;
In the list of
needs we place it first.
So give it unconditionally;
Ten fold you'll receive
generously.
Your love
for family, friends and others;
Not carefully nurtured it fades and withers;
Be disciplined in what you do;
Not overwhelmed by much ado.
Cherish your
friends and family;
Be generous and give freely;
With neighbours and God be at peace;
Your life will have an extra lease.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
It's beatitude we seek in life,
Not found in vengeance, hate or strife;
It's born of generosity,
Of hope, deep faith and charity.
The child in the mother's warm embrace;
His joy he shows all over his face.
Your cares and woes you need to release;
Be child-like, carefree, not childish.
The flowers cheer you
up at morn;
The mother is joyful when her child is born;
A couple in love are rapturous;
Success can make you feel joyous.
Such happiness we can't
prolong;
Much fame nor fortune last so long;
You can have a joyous happy mood,
By using power for mankind's good.
For lesser mortals
like most of us,
It's faith in the Lord we have to trust,
To give us enduring happiness.
Your part you play by doing your best.
Your goal be noble your
honour be fair
Have faith, be hopeful and not despair.
In the bedlam of life take time to rest;
An inward peace gives happiness.
Thus joy can come in
many ways;
Be honest in what you do always;
You yourself must play your part,
For joy to live within your heart.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
The
sparkling stars in the deep dark night
The silent moon silvery and bright
They tantalize us mortal earthlings
What wonders and beauty cosmos brings
A little
seed turns into a tree
Its boughs with foliage are shady
The plant can't live without green
A wonder it comes from a tiny bean
Each
person has a unique life
And we need food to be alive
The child develops into an adult
On God depends the final result
God's
ways we'll never understand
And solve His mysteries we never can
We live for awhile and then we die
Don't ever probe the reason why
Great
faith you place in the Almighty
And live your years confidently
If you have all these you feel better
You'll find your burden much lighter
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
When you
walk along the street,
Bring into focus the way ahead;
Numerous people you pass and meet;
They, like you, have joy and dread.
Narrow
and rough is the path of life;
With jagged rocks and stones it's paved;
Faith and Hope do help us thrive.
By lust and avarice be not enslaved.
If you
walk bravely with a friend,
Blithely sharing your pain or gain,
Going through life until the end,
You'll find that life is less a bane.
Pauper or
prince, premier or king,
Commoner or nobility,
Every one is journeying
To the grave and eternity.
Difference
there's none between men;
Goodness, not greatness, is what counts;
Kindness, love or lending a hand,
God will check in our accounts.
Finally eternity
Is the same for everyone;
Rich or poor, and everybody,
Dust we inevitably become.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
The city
of parks, the city of gardens,
The city of flowers, the city of blossoms,
The city so full of bougainvilleas,
What dazzling bracts this plant bears.
A
thousand blooms has each green plant,
Each one is delicate, a wonderment;
Together they form a beautiful mass
Of marvelous sprays others can't surpass.
The
essence of the bloom is the colour;
The sight evokes joy and wonder;
In shades of vermilion or crimson,
Off white, mauve or maroon.
In
sunshine the blooms are bright,
Not gaudy but grand
arresting sight;
The season of bougainvillea brings bliss,
Providing people a visual feast.
Ubiquitous
this plant with jolly hues;
A jocund mood in my heart they produce;
Colours cascade from pedestrian bridge,
The city scene they greatly enrich.
In
private gardens, in public parks
Outside plazas, in shady walks
By the highways, between the trees;
My heart and soul they surely please.
Your eyes
can feast on the wondrous colour.
Come celebrate this glorious flower;
Come glorify the bougainvillea;
Rejoice and laud the bougainvillea.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Earnest and serious is
the life of man;
Rich or poor, problems they have;
The rich dread losing what they've gained.
The poor must struggle and sweat to save.
The leaders have to plan
and serve;
We worry about our livelihood;
The young fear losing their parents' love;
We fret tomorrow will be bad or good.
Be not anxious of what's
ahead,
For worry changes not a thing.
The Lord allays our fears and dread;
Put trust in Him, and peace He'll bring.
If hope is your life's
main theme,
You find your burdens are not heavy.
The crosses are light they seem;
The problems can be borne easily.
If gentleness and
sympathy
To neighbours and strangers you show,
Your life will turn out to be happy.
Be cheerful and have a dream to follow.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
The city is filled with bedlam and noise
Men rush about to make money
They're deaf to their neighbour's voice
Their goal is power and property
Their opulence they boast and flaunt
They sell their souls to get their wants
They struggle toil but health they discount
They wish for lucre and dominance
Guilt-free happy these people can't be
For love and peace to dwell in their hearts
They need to change their priority
It's spiritual food they must regard
In natural treasures take delight
Take time to pray and meditate
The plants the blooms the stars at night
They put your mind in a joyous state
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
I
wait for bus twenty-three
To transport me to the great city
I watch people queuing like me
I climb into the bus quickly
The load like sardines packed tightly
Each serious of mien looking weary
Not looking forward to the day or work
It's just the life of an ordinary folk
The city throbs with activity
Pedestrians walk hurriedly
Every face is stern and unsmiling
To strangers they seem uncaring
No exchange of pleasant words I hear
A smile or a hello they don't render
Politeness or courtesy is hardly shown
Each intent on thoughts of his own
Some run across the busy road
To calmly walk they're in no mood
Some push their way to the front of the queue
Without any 'sorry' or 'thank you'
No time to hear the orchestra
No time to listen to melodious choirs
Or look at or admire works of art
Or read great poems that stir the heart
There's much in store in God's creation
A never ending fascination
You have in the stars or the country scene
They make our life so calm and serene
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
At three score years he had to go,
Retire, to work further no more.
It came sooner than he thought;
Against his age in vain he fought.
His colleagues bade him goodbye, farewell;
'He's a jolly good fellow' they yelled;
His heart was heavy and he wanted to cry;
A drop of tear he wiped from his eye.
The next morn he woke up at six o'clock;
It dawned on him he had no work.
He sat bewildered with nothing to do,
And felt like an old discarded shoe.
His job was gone, dignity lowered;
His occupation was his livelihood;
His wage he earned by honest labour,
Fulfilling his role as bread winner.
He said his pension or annuity
Was not the same as salary.
His children gave him support, respect;
Their behaviour was filial and correct.
A responsible man he was to them;
He helped them overcome their problems;
His retirement he learned to accept;
He worked hard, had no regret.
The household chores he hadn't done before,
These things he could do without a tutor;
He learned to use the washing machine,
To wash the dishes and keep the house clean.
The household tasks became his routine;
The rooms and kitchen he kept them prim;
And each item in the proper place;
He performed his new work, the chores with grace.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
'Taiji', ancient art of Taoist philosophy,
Circulates the blood and tones the muscle;
Exercise that's good for mind and body;
Keeps the mind alert, the body supple;
Movements soft, smooth, slow and flowing.
If' you're over sixty 'Taiji' is the thing.
Old, a little slow and a bit sluggish,
Still we're keen and eager to learn 'Taiji';
Men and women of the golden years we wish
Young and ageless, hale and hearty to be.
'Sifu' coaxes us to raise both arms;
Pushing the air, we use our hands and palms;
Then the moves he proceeds to demonstrate;
'Single whip', a classic move, a posture;
His stance, his steps, his actions we imitate;
Pain in our arthritic joints we stoically endure.
Executing 'bend bow, shoot tiger',
Master teaches us this manoeuvre.
Awkwardly the motions we display;
This doesn't stop us 'grasping the sparrow's tail';
Far from graceful we gently move and sway;
Humour and calm determination prevail;
'Sifu' shows the next move: 'white crane spreads wings'
Master we ape; we're game for anything.
Forty steps and more we learn;
'Wave hands in clouds', ungainly we dance;
'Embrace tiger, return to mountain';
Master is glad at our performance;
'Sifu' instructs: 'punch under elbow';
Gentle and light, soft and slow, the blow.
'At shuttles the fair maiden works';
'Turn body and sweep lotus with leg';
'On one leg stands the golden cock';
'Sifu' urges us on without a break;
Body perspires, muscles start to ache;
These we undertake for health's sake.
Teacher is pleased we possess the
'Taiji' mood;
Several lessons later we're confident;
Body generally has improved and is good;
Healthy body and mind we get in return;
Grateful we are for 'meditation in motion',
Tuning the body to good condition.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
The king of
fruit the durian
The taste of its flesh divine
The size of a bowling ball
With a thorny outer wall
A hard and spiky shell
Strong its aroma its smell
The pips covered with flesh
The thick soft meat luscious
The colour rich old gold
Its taste ambrosial
The fruit it's bitter-sweet
It's indescribable indeed
Olfactory sense it teases
Gastronomic high it produces
Its flavour is an experience
This a fruit of excellence
It's special packed with vitamins
And minerals and proteins
Many nutrients it contains
We love to taste it again
If it's out of season
Try durian concoction
Durian puree on cake
Durian puff they bake
Durian flavoured 'dodol'
And also durian 'strudel'
Durian flavoured moon cake
Durian ice cream you can take
Durian 'ice-kachang'
And more the list goes on
We lovers of durian
Don't tire of its fascination
The fruit we savour and adore
For it we keep our ardour
Forever
king the durian
This is the fruit we want
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
DARK
DAYS The clouds of war were ominous in Attack by enemy planes, invasion by the Japs December the eighth, nineteen-forty one, We saw beams of search-lights
probing the sky On new year's eve of the lunar calendar Refugees we became in second uncle's house The name of Singapore to 'Syonan-to' Thousands of Chinese the Japs summarily The Japanese, the warlords the sentries, to them At 'Sino-English' school I enrolled My father, jobless and ill, asked a friend to build Our shack was small, cramped with My father gravely ill he fell; "Banana" notes we used; nothing much A well provided water to drink, wash My education I stopped, school I quitted, In August nineteen-forty five The happenings took place when I was
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T.
Cheng
(Singapore
Dec.1941-Aug.1945)
nineteen-forty one;
The Japanese invaded many
South East Asian lands;
They plundered the cities, inflicted misery,
executed opponents.
We lived, terrified of falling into
enemy hands.
We knew they tortured people, purloined treasures,
ravished women;
From acts of terror, murder of innocent men,
they didn't refrain.
we were told to expect;
Sand bags, placed in homes and buildings for protection
from exploding bombs;
'Air-raid wardens' directed exercises
to prepare for a strike;
The wail of sirens scared, frightened us
and made us jump.
The Japanese through the peninsula they marched,
cycled or drove;
Their planes, carrying bombs ,wings marked with red
dots, flew past above.
was the fateful
date;
The drones of planes were heard in early morn
at four a.m.;
Awakened by sirens we wondered whether it was
exercise or threat;
Thus war was brought to our doorstep, backyard
and changed
our long term plans.
They dropped their bombs without aim;
they fell
in Chinatown;
The planes released their loads of explosives
in the wee
hours of morn.
to find the planes;
The lights in the streets were bright, the enemy caught
all of us off guard;
The anti-aircraft guns didn't bark, the reason
we couldn't explain
The frightened British families, from Singapore
they prepared to depart;
Two British warships off the coast of Malaya
the Japs destroyed;
Marching south through Malaya, opposition in their way
they annihilated.
the Japs came ashore;
The allied forces gave up, surrendered without
much fight or fire.
In tanks, on bicycles, swimming across the straits,
the enemy poured.
'Allied' soldiers, hangdog, they marched to Changi
to a future dire.
A strong, impregnable fortress Singapore
was surely not;
The cannons, facing the wrong direction,
came to naught.
in Serangoon.
At sixth uncle's place nearby I heard
a strange tongue next
door;
A platoon of soldiers, bedraggled, wearing cloth caps,
they came
to dragoon;
We never saw people dressed in this way or talked
so strangely before.
Fair maidens, disguised as men, covered their faces,
cowered
under beds,
Be accosted, assaulted, molested, outraged
they
were immensely afraid.
they duly converted;
For three years and a half we lived in fear
under the "kempeitai";
When thieves were caught, arrested, their heads
went off by the samurai sword;
Like timid lambs we submitted; we were
scared and terrified;
The country was short of food and fuel;
amenities were really bad;
Diseases, lack of food, medicine
in our life we met.
murdered them;
At Punggol beach they were slaughtered,
bayoneted or machine-gunned;
"Sook Ching" it was known - the massacre
of able young men.
Our life was disturbed, the plans of fathers and mothers
were shattered and gone.
I recall, remember these well albeit I was small
and not yet ten;
I lost my childhood days; I started to think
like an adult, a man.
we had to kowtow;
A slap, a curse or a kick on the bottom we got
if we didn't do so;
If foolhardy we were, not to salute,
then swearwords would follow.
Their flag we had to wave at cars,
bearing officers;
Law and order they kept by threat, torture and
chopping off heads;
Their methods, their fierce countenances,
of them we were afraid.
to study Nippon-go;
"Ah, Ee, U, Eh, Oh" the alphabet
into a ditty they turned;
Before class began we had to face Japan
to sing their anthem;
In class the monitor intoned
"kiritz, rei, chakuseki"
Which means: "Stand, bow,
sit",
when teacher entered the class;
Not enamored of "katakana" or "hiragana"
I didn't learn fast.
a hut of sorts;
Without a plan or blue print he improvised as he
built the shed;
The floor was made of boards and the kitchen
floor of sheer firm clod;
We slept on the thick hard boards; this our refuge,
our shelter and our bed;
Tapioca was added to the broken rice to provide bulk
to make gruel;
Dried branches, paper, sticks and coconut husks,
we used as fuel.
family members and relatives:
Hurriedly it was constructed;
"Feng Shui" was disregarded,
Two toilets in cubicles, it faced,
a
good view they didn't give;
The toilet, a platform with a hole and a bucket below,
on it we squatted
To answer nature's call; the structure
crude and primitive.
To mask the stench, cigarettes I smoked;
such life we lived.
no medicine he got;
He tottered bare-footed with a walking stick
weakening day by day;
Slowly his life ebbed; with grief and sorrow
the family was fraught;
We watched his death throes; all we could
do was watch and pray;
A blackish fluid trickled out of his mouth;
away he passed;
And motionless he lay; gone to a better
place at last.
we could buy with them;
Tapioca, sweet potatoes and maize sustained us
in those days;
No fresh meat, poultry, vegetables,
fruit, butter or jam;
Hard bread of starch and corn could not
allay
our hunger and dismay;
From malnutrition, lack of vitamins,
we had gangrenous sores;
Our life did change; no playthings, no shoes
nor nice clothes we had anymore.
the clothes and bathe;
The springs stopped when there was a drought;
the water became muddy;
The soldiers came by the well, and in their birthday
suits they bathed;
Their wants, provisions, like poultry, greens
they collected
from farms freely;
They killed the pigs and chickens, took the best parts
and discarded the
offal;
The crumbs and the rotten meat were
left to us lesser mortals.
studies put aside;
In a factory I worked at making ropes
for food and broken rice;
I turned the wheel to turn the cog
to twist the rope
tight;
I suffered blistered palms and aching arms
to
pay the price;
The little I got in "banana" notes and rice
I gave to mum;
I felt quite proud of my contributions to the
family and the home.
two
atomic blasts occurred;
They brought the war to an end; the warlords
of Japan capitulated;
The prisoners-of-war, now shadows of their
former selves, were released;
Our heart was light, our spirits were high;
we were joyful, happy, elated.
The Japanese submitted, conceded defeat
on
Allies' terms.
Our life we began to rebuild; to normalcy
the country returned.
in
my early years and teen;
The days of grief and pain in my memory
they always
remain;
I think of them now and then to purge
my mind of the events;
Three years and a half of my childhood years,
lost not to return again;
I grew up, became a man, indelible
the scars in my
memory, my mind;
The days of infamy and my growing up years
I don't wish to pine.
The bulldozer appears to clear the land:
It crushes, pushes, shoves all in its path:
The trees it uproots; the rural huts it rends
The hillocks it levels, depressions it fills with earth;
The machine, leviathan of strength gargantuan, crawls,
Preparing the place to have the infrastructure installed.
The pile-driver places the foundation;
A powerful blow it packs to sink the girders;
The deeper it goes at each vibration;
Its noise is deafening; the peace it shatters;
The crash of metal on metal is nerve racking.
Never ending it seems the construction of buildings.
The huge lorry conveys equipment heavy;
The roads are laid, crisscrossing at right angles;
The site, with workmen and paraphernalia, is busy;
All is put in place like a giant puzzle;
Each block of flats takes shape gradually,
Assuming the final geometrical symmetry.
The tiles, the plumbing, the power grid
are laid,
All done according to a specified plan;
The landscape artist designs the flower beds;
The whole when completed looks imposing and grand;
The residents now populate the town;
It's given the name, "Punggol 21".
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
On the
trees, on the roads,
At bazaars, on the ground,
On fields and meadows broad,
Coal-black feathered crows are found.
Coats like tuxedos they wear,
Preening feathers glossy dark.
Progeny, a multitude they sire,
This ensures and preserves their stock
Dumps are where thy find their fare;
Road-kills, worms or rotting meat,
Nice or stinking they want a share;
These to them are tasty treats.
Large black birds with thick strong beaks,
Scavenging they devour what they can;
Leftovers and scraps they pick,
Warily keeping an eye on man.
Blobs of droppings they leave behind,
On the ground, on bonnets of cars.
Leafy large trees to roost they find,
Hugger-muggering in large numbers.
Humans use scarecrows in vain;
Frightened not by them at all,
They come back for more again,
Winging away with raucous calls.
Feather-brained they are clearly not -
Good the memory of crows;
Dangers they shun; not easily caught,
Smart and tough, no fear they show .
Thriving well on refuse of man,
Readily adapting to city life,
Dodging human's murderous plans,
Corvine kinds are much alive.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Thank the Lord for the new-born day,
Given from His bounteous store;
Precious each hour that comes your way;
Plan it well to help you grow.
Like a bud that holds promise
Of bright and beautiful blossom;
Like a rough and uncut piece,
Into a gem the lapidary can turn .
Take the space in time to love
Friends and family more dearly;
Find opportunities to serve;
Perform your work cheerfully.
Deem each day a great treasure,
A gift divine and special for you,
As you breathe the air that's pure;
Praise the Lord in all you do.
Count each day as closer to your dream,
One you've fulfilled, find another;
Hours of a day are short they seem,
As life's mountain you climb higher.
Spend the day at work and play,
Doing things in the name of the Lord;
These to Him are pleasing prayers;
Graces a lot you receive from God.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
An
oasis of
peace this sylvan place
Amidst the city of concrete harsh
On manicured lawn I leisurely pace
Surrounded by greenery pretty lush
Here vegetation of tropic lands is found
Plants from as far as the Amazon
The canopy of foliage shades the ground
The air suffused with oxygen
A restful place the rolling grounds
The environment soothes the mind
As you're sheltered from city sounds
Calm and quiet you can find
Majestic the evergreen rain tree
Its spreading boughs reach up high
To catch the light and show its glory
Its trunk all gnarled, cracked and dry
The bamboo, resilient slender and supple
Bends and sways with the breeze
Each frond of fern an elegant curl
The palm crowned with waving leaves
The orchids dainty with brilliant hues
Are found in a nook a patch of their own
The roses are lavishly imbued
With different tones of vermilion
The lotus within the watery bounds
Where water lilies also thrive
Where fishes and tortoises are found
Together in harmony they survive
Colour of the chameleon with the bark it
blends
The butterflies delicate colourful
The turtle doves cooing with élan
Are added to the garden as jewels
Winds capricious stir the fronds
The leaves dead yellow-brown fall
Scatter floating softly to the ground
Pursued to the side of the leafy wall
Perfect each flower each blade of grass
The greenery the creatures overall
Are made for our wonder and spiritual repast
Bestowing solace, assuaging our souls
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Chen
gThey
fly, they soar, they ride the wind;
Their aerial spree a sight to behold;
For eons man has found them fascinating,
Mysterious with a special place in the world.
With trusty pinions they ascend the sky,
From where they survey man's affairs,
Not caring whether humans laugh or cry;
They're lords of the sky and masters of
the air.
Abounding energy they possess;
Descending, sweeping from the sky,
Ascending again in happiness,
A-winging, a-lapsing not seeming to tire.
At night-time they snuggle in
their nests,
Built on cliffs, in the trees, in the dell;
Their power is charged after their rest;
With morning chaunts they cast their spells.
They twitter, they coo, they
whistle, they warble,
Permeating the heavens with their melodies;
Only with the rain they have to struggle;
They enjoy wheeling around freely.
Such vigour and vim in the little
bodies,
Driving, propelling them hundreds of miles,
Over continents or seas;
They follow instinct and spirit wild.
Soul-mates, a couple of cranes or
storks,
A dance of love they choreograph
Before they embrace, quiver and lock,
Then fly away as they whoop and laugh.
Awesome, the flight of the
albatross,
Mesmerizing, the peacock's plumes,
The swan in the lake, an epitome of grace,
Enchanting, the warbler's dulcet tunes.
Fabulous, the hues of the
parakeet,
Amazing, the cormorant's fishing skill,
The humming bird's hover, an incredible feat,
Like ivory, sheeny, the beak of the hornbill.
The mystic birds excite
and delight;
We're enraptured by their cheerful
tunes;
Entranced by their plumage and graceful flight;
From struggle and strife they are seemingly
immune.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Rolling in from the far horizon,
Splashing onto my beloved shore,
On the golden sand I pour
All my desire and affection;
Anxiously he waits with great patience;
He neither stops nor repels my advance.
My sigh of love he hears at dawn;
With watery embrace I cool his breast;
Spreading my silvery frothy tress
On the beach, broad and golden;
As I leave, my garments swish;
Coming back again is my wish.
Calm and composed, his demeanour,
Soothing my constant agitation;
I hasten and rush to my destination;
Restless and wandering my behaviour;
Imbued with the spirit of wanderlust,
I cross oceans deep and vast.
Off the coast, dolphins appear;
On my crest they frolic and play;
Whales are heard to sing their lays;
They emerge to breath the salty air,
Joyful, exultant in wanton splash,
While to the seashore I head and dash.
When I come across great rocks,
I tantalize, caress, tickle, kiss them;
Only stony silence I'm given;
My path, they stolidly shut and block;
I bypass them to reach the sand,
Where I'm received with outstretched hands
Pearly shells I bring to the shore,
As offerings of admiration for him;
Sometimes I create quite a din;
When a tempest arises I'm sore;
I rave and rage to show my anger;
When wild, no one can calm my temper.
My mood changes with the weather;
When I'm happy I sing softly;
I'm fierce, ferocious, furious, when angry;
At night I'm awake while others slumber;
In bed I'll not sleep or quietly lie;
I'll live forever and never die.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
FLYING FISH COVE, CHRISTMAS ISLAND
Craggy cliffs rise on both sides;
At their bases huge rocks stand,
Embraced by waves, swept in by tides.
Surf sprawls and spreads on fine white sands.
Sea-ward, coconut palms lean,
Catching the best of the salt sea air;
Waters are clear and shore is clean;
Fishes weave and play sans care.
To the water's edge I amble,
Leaving footprints in the sand;
On the shore, wavelets gently tumble,
Brushing, tingling my feet as I stand.
I retreat from the water margin,
A surf, skidding, follows me,
Rustling in, erases my imprints -
Reminding me of mortality.
Myriad crabs, red crustaceans*,
On wet rocks they clamber to spawn -
An annual ritual performed for eons;
Onward to the waters they are drawn.
Oyster-encrusted rocks remain
Untroubled by the crawly things;
Tides immerse and expose them;
Endlessly the waves roll in.
The up-draught lifts the frigate bird,
A-gliding, a-wheeling in majesty;
Perched, its throat sac ballooned, blood-red,
It lures a female with calls throaty.
The noon-day sun warms the rocks;
Heaven meets Earth at Flying Fish Cove;
Image of the sky, azure, is caught
In waters - mirror of the heavens above.
This sequestered bay, idyllic, I find;
A charming spot where God meets man;
This place, delightful, I call to mind -
God's signs are seen in seas, on land.
*Red crabs live in burrows on land. They
mass migrate to the sea to spawn annually,
a phenomenon found only in Christmas Island.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Dismal the world without bright blooms;
Stars to sky, as florets to earth;
Wondrous, mysterious, marvelous blossoms;
Written in them are Divine truths
Woven from the Great One's loom
These radiant, delicate, elegant flowers;
Unique, a masterpiece, each bloom,
Tinged with fragrance and subtle colours.
Scented and spectacular flowerets,
Please the eye, appease the spirit;
Solace and joy from them we get;
God's largesse, the source of this treat.
Placed at altars to praise the Lord;
A posy at a wedding, cradled by the bride;
Symbols of love, they delight and comfort.
Making life light and spirits bright.
Wreaths to remember our beloved dead;
Roses for birthday or anniversary;
A cheerful nosegay, with love, to a date;
A garland to welcome a dignitary.
Petals velvety, colours lustrous,
Loved and adored by the humble, the noble;
In gardens in parks, flaunt the flowers;
To blossoms, beasts can't hold a candle.
Gems of otherwise dreary earth;
Names, sweet-sounding, lyrical,
Apt for an infant at birth -
Jasmine, Lily, Marigold.
Inspiration to poets and writers;
Ardour, passion for these marvels will not cease;
Never failing to inspire wonder:
With fabulous flowers, our heart's at ease.
Earth, a stony desert be
Without trees or gorgeous blossoms;
Heaven's revelations we see
In extravagant hues and dazzling blooms.
Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Reaching sixty is no small thing;
Experience you've accumulated
For family and nation you've laboured and sweated;
On the past don't keep on dwelling.Cherish each day of your golden years;
Spend it like a holiday;
To the Lord your homage pay,
When the morning sun appears.Bask in the sunshine of optimism;
Walk not in the shadow of fear;
Blemish not your face with tears;
Hold aloft your torch of wisdom.If a doleful soul you cheer,
Sympathy to him you impart,
With joy, you fill your own heart,
Your conscience, untroubled and clear.If consolation and comfort you give,
Your own grief and fear you remove;
If others you care, serve and love;
Rewards and blessings, aplenty, you receive.Go not about with visage grim;
Let your face be wreathed with a smile;
Walk with the lonesome the extra mile;
Happiness your kindness brings.Your dream, your guiding star,
Leading to a life fulfilling;
Joy you can get from common things;
There's no need to go afar.See the beauty of twilight sky,
A blade of grass, a tiny bloom;
Hear the thrush's trilling croon;
Find them with open ears and eyes.Re-kindle romance with your dear;
Feel the ardour of great love;
Not wasted your time if others you serve,
Blissfully live your golden years.Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Engulfed in haze the big city;
Foul the air; polluted the sky;
Smoke diminishes visibility,
Chokes the lungs and stings the eyes;
Faraway forests are reduced to dust;
Virgin jungles are vanishing fast.Flora and fauna, our patrimony,
Should be treasured and preserved forever,
But they're despoiled senselessly;
For posterity they are not secure;
Over there, rapacious man
Burns the trees, ravages the land.Man grows and harvests his crops for awhile;
Temporarily he enjoys his fruit:
Then earth becomes barren and sterile:
His spirit's food may be gone for good:
The sun will scorch the naked land:
The tide of destruction, humanity must stem.Forests are homes of gigantic trees,
Of wondrous insects and animals,
Psychedelic butterflies, honey bees,
Snakes with shimmering skin like opals,
Orchids, spell-binding and elegant,
Orang Utan and other inhabitants.Devastation of land affects us all,
Changes the climate pattern of earth:
The annihilation of nature we've to forestall;
This is progeny's life or death;
Rains may not come to sustain us,
If forests are reduced to cinders.Time is running out for earth;
The ozone layer has deteriorated:
Unusual the temperatures;
Strange climatic changes are detected.
The distant jungles are cleared by fire;
When will they stop the flames, we wonder.Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
A lake, MacRitchie Reservoir,
Surrounded by a forest filled with wonders;
A sanctum of serenity, this verdant wood;
A refuge that lifts one's heart and mood.
A light wind stirs the leaves and the pond,
Creating a symphony of subtle sounds.The morning sun silently appears,
Arousing slumbering creatures;
The birds take wing and blithely sing;
The squirrels are seen scampering;
The dewy leaves on the trees glisten;
The gentle breeze is balmy and pleasant.The stag-horn ferns cling onto trees;
Dew-drops fall disturbed by a breeze;
A little higher the sun rises,
The forest top is gilded and lustrous;
The herons leave their nightly perch,
For food the flock then goes in search.Along a well-trod path I stroll,
In shadows of trees, shady and tall;
Around the lake, skirts the track,
With leaves decaying and humus black.
Through the gaps of spreading leafy boughs
Sun beams fall on the forest floor.Water and land, creatures and trees
Thrive in ecological harmony;
The waters complement the plants;
Man stands in awe of trees giant,
Of beetles Lilliputian, yet exquisite;
These treasures we're blessed to inherit.Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
Eternal is time, relentless its march,
A precious gift you shouldn't waste;
It's real albeit it can't be touched;
Use it to grow in fulfilling ways.Your memories you keep, but time you can't;
The minutes become hours so fast;
So swiftly your birthday or anniversary comes,
You realize a year of time has passed.If sweet reminiscences in life you want,
Then live to-day as best you can;
The seeds of happiness you've to plant;
'Tis loving and serving your fellow men.The tide of time no one can stem;
You use it only as it comes;
You can still dream and set a plan;
Happiness comes from the good you've done.We're unaware, asleep or awake,
Of influence, force and passage of time.
Changes, imperceptible, time does make;
In birth and death we see its signs.A day has gone when the sun goes down;
To history and memory it's now consigned.
Time is unfurled, it rolls on and on;
Life's span, to God we have to resign.Time changes the earth constantly,
And every creature, life and plant;
We have to adapt intelligently,
Fulfilling our physical and spiritual wants.Yesterday, the past, a memory;
To-morrow, the future, in store, unknown;
To-day, the present, use it wisely.
Pursue your dream as time flows onCopyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng.
Ensconced in penthouses,
A luxurious life some live.
Hovels are homes of others,
Who struggle to stay alive.In clothes, chic and branded,
Some daily drape themselves.
Clothes, faded, tattered:
These are what others have.Some folks, warm love they receive;
They're content, joyous, happy.
Others, in despair they live,
Destitute, empty, in poverty.For some there's no peace in life;
They face violence and wars.
On food some gormandize,
While hunger plagues others.In water beds some sleep;
They shut out the noise outside
Of those in sorrow deep.
Social division is wide.Man himself, the source of division;
Warlords' greed and pride,
Vanity, hate and corruption
Are humanity's blots and blights.To bridge the divide we've to try;
Goodwill we need from all;
Many will suffer otherwise.
Doomed are we to be unequal ?Copyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
There're sounds startling frightening
Like dynamite or bomb exploding
Splitting the ear and putting us in fear
Such noises we'd rather not have or hear
Noises of jackhammers appall
Grate and drive us up the wall
Sounds of nature soft and pleasing
Birds a-singing waves a-lapping
Gurgling sounds of tumbling rills
Our heart with serenity they fill
A musical instrument skillfully played
Gives forth sound that's happy or sad
Martial music resonating
Sets our feet a-tapping a-marching.
Tears in our eyes a dirge does draw
Some music evokes nostalgia
Our prayers we chant to praise the Lord
A spiritual hymn brings solace and comfort
Fireworks enhance a festivity
Make us feel so merry and jolly
An infant's babble is music to the mum
Silent the world for the deaf and dumb
Surrounded by sounds the normal are
Sounds melodious we want to hearCopyright ©2001 Emile S.T. Cheng
A permanent feature of Singapore,
Sinuous through the city I flow;
Once upon a time I coursed,
With fish teeming in clear waters;
Mangrove on my banks muddy;
On both sides lush tropical trees.Upward I go with the rise of tide;
To the sea I drift at ebb of tide;
Once I swirled around mangrove roots,
With currents swift I was in cahoots;
This way I was for millenniums;
None did write about me a paean.In eighteen-nineteen Raffles came;
Building Singapore became his aim;
Between concrete walls I was constrained;
From lands, faraway, people came;
They built, by my sides, warehouses;
Diverse goods were stocked in the stores.Into an entrepôt Singapore evolved;
For their livelihood people strove;
Nouveau Riche many became;
My odour was the smell of success they claimed;
Into a channel of sea traffic
I developed and became sick.Sampans and Tongkangs plied upon me,
Bearing goods from ships at sea,
Anchored in the deep roadsteads;
Sinewy men bore and conveyed
Bags of grains from craft to depots,
Like diligent ants hoarding their stores.
