There was once a secret corner In a huge house in sunny Gelugor It was Uncle Cecil’s library You had to be careful as you tiptoed Up the steep wooden steps And your little fingers grasping The cold iron railings At the top of the winding stairs You are rewarded with a secret corner AContinue reading “Uncle Cecil’s library”
Tag Archives: poetry
Pulau Ubin
“the contents of these boats are yours too, because i have returned. i am no longer afraid of the oceans or the differences between people, no longer easily snared by words or ideas. the years at sea and in coastal states have taught me to choose, to accept only those tested by comparison, or thatContinue reading “Pulau Ubin”
a short poem
it would not be fair the affairs of the heart are dishonest, jealous and unfair the matters of the heart are deceiving. one night around the neighbourhood one boy and one girl. written on 011011
By the window ledge
By the window ledge at midnight I see the shadows of a man A man I once knew In my youth In my naïvete He took me to the top of the city To tell me his dreams His hopes and his ambitions I sat on the bed and watched him in the corner AContinue reading “By the window ledge”
Old soul of this city
I am the Old Soul of this City Please don’t kill me. Don’t break my windows Destroy my pillars. Where are my mosaic pavements My picture houses with balconies My grandfather’s house My mosaic tiles. My Peranakan treasures Don’t rob my grandchildren Sell my soul to developers The city lights they blind me. I amContinue reading “Old soul of this city”
Dear England
dear england, i too love your drizzly rain, not a full asian thunderstorm yet enough to stall society your country walks and vast plains the ones i’ve never got the right shoes for i love your train journeys and the soft hum of the engine soft conversations blocked out by earphones my own reflection inContinue reading “Dear England”
In the city
in the city there are gigs in the rain music films + books black umbrellas popping poking you in the face the filth + the rain the cold modern glass and warm ancient bricks both made of sand the old greying and stooping the young hot and loaded all made of dust fopp music storeContinue reading “In the city”
Home Day 36
The road to Aonang The road to Aonang Is the beginning of many dreams Many journeys Over many streams In the early dawn Minutes and hours gone Asleep and awake From village to village The road to Aonang Is the driver’s homeland In the driver’s van At the mercy of his hands On the steeringContinue reading “Home Day 36”
Wan Phing Lim 