Yau's Poems

Random thoughts

2012-02-06T09:32:00.000-08:00

On her epitaph, it was written: here lies a mother who gave her husband's inheritance to her children to strange men.

Descent 2

2012-01-12T20:35:00.000-08:00

Alone in a sea of strangers
Trawling through the babel of voices
I feel confusion
I feel dread
A rising tide of madness confronts me

Then I descend to the depths
And the black beast does not follow
I hear my breath
In the stillness of the ocean womb
I feel my senses align
Alone in the depths

Down in the deep depths
I find the solace I seek
In this silent world
So alien to humanity
I am at peace.

Diving into the Wreck by Adrienne Rich (1973)

2010-01-03T22:44:00.000-08:00

Diving into the Wreck by Adrienne Rich

First having read the book of myths,
and loaded the camera,
and checked the edge of the knife-blade,
I put on
the body-armor of black rubber
the absurd flippers
the grave and awkward mask.
I am having to do this
not like Cousteau with his
assiduous team
aboard the sun-flooded schooner
but here alone.

There is a ladder.
The ladder is always there
hanging innocently
close to the side of the schooner.
We know what it is for,
we who have used it.
Otherwise
it is a piece of maritime floss
some sundry equipment.

I go down.
Rung after rung and still
the oxygen immerses me
the blue light
the clear atoms
of our human air.
I go down.
My flippers cripple me,
I crawl like an insect down the ladder
and there is no one
to tell me when the ocean
will begin.

First the air is blue and then
it is bluer and then green and then
black I am blacking out and yet
my mask is powerful
it pumps my blood with power
the sea is another story
the sea is not a question of power
I have to learn alone
to turn my body without force
in the deep element.

And now: it is easy to forget
what I came for
among so many who have always
lived here
swaying their crenellated fans
between the reefs
and besides
you breathe differently down here.

I came to explore the wreck.
The words are purposes.
The words are maps.
I came to see the damage that was done
and the treasures that prevail.
I stroke the beam of my lamp
slowly along the flank
of something more permanent
than fish or weed

the thing I came for:
the wreck and not the story of the wreck
the thing itself and not the myth
the drowned face always staring
toward the sun
the evidence of damage
worn by salt and away into this threadbare beauty
the ribs of the disaster
curving their assertion
among the tentative haunters.

This is the place.
And I am here, the mermaid whose dark hair
streams black, the merman in his armored body.
We circle silently
about the wreck
we dive into the hold.
I am she: I am he

whose drowned face sleeps with open eyes
whose breasts still bear the stress
whose silver, copper, vermeil cargo lies
obscurely inside barrels
half-wedged and left to rot
we are the half-destroyed instruments
that once held to a course
the water-eaten log
the fouled compass

We are, I am, you are
by cowardice or courage
the one who find our way
back to this scene
carrying a knife, a camera
a book of myths
in which
our names do not appear.

http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15228

(Commentary: I don't think this is a great poem about diving. But it does contain evocative images and descriptions which are pretty good; they ring true. And I'll try and use them in my scuba poems.

I dream of the Deep Blue

2009-07-05T14:49:00.000-07:00

One of my diving friends took this amazingly awesome photo.

Its a school of Jackfish in Barracuda Point, Sipadan.

I just love the light and sun beams streaming down.

What a photo!!!

Descending 500m

2009-02-14T04:11:00.000-08:00

Her cold embrace I seek
Her dark depths I do explore
Far beneath the breathing world I find solace
I am descending 500m

(I thought up the first line on the silent cab ride back to my flat, I thought of incorporating that into a different poem... then changed my mind and placed it as the header for a black poem about scuba diving, hint "black".)

Leaving

2009-02-13T03:03:00.000-08:00

The sun is vermillion today... that sort of orangey red color when there's too much dust in the air.
The air is so dry.
I feel so dry, parched inside.
I gotta get out of here.

You know where I want to be?
In a place where I can wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night and NOT be hassled.
Not hear an angry word spoken against me.
Not be on my guard,
Not have to watch my words,
I don't have to explain myself
I want to be a place where I can be me,
And I am loved.
And its not here, thats for sure.

If she loves me

2009-01-03T02:22:00.000-08:00

If she loves me she will return in the Spring
As my garden is filled with flowers
And the poppies bloom with the colors of the rainbow

She will arrive in the midday
And come rest under the shade of my roof
(...)
We will watch as the evening sun ends in golden splendor
And in the twilight we will embrace.

(Uncompleted: YMC Jan 4th 2009)

Welcome to Valhalla

2008-11-30T01:54:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Valhalla, visitor dear
Climb this stairway to a different paradise.
Fantasia, for short
Where the dreams are wrought in the furnance of one's mind
But nightmares are won.
So Dream all.
Endure the stinging arrows of adversaries and battle on.
Oh break these chains
Break these clumsy fetters
That bind my imagination to the ground.
And let us battle on
Fearing none. Daring all.
The tea break is at ten.
Thus ride on my fear comrades
Mount the steed. Grip the sword.
There are many battles to be lost.
Come, dare all. Life's a final suicide.
It has to be made the most of
In Valhalla.

YMC Copyright 1990.

(Written in one of my gothic moods. Note: I had not read NG's Sandman series.)

CIty Lights

2008-11-24T15:53:00.000-08:00

Glittering Bright
Jewels of the Night
City Lights
Whispering Delight
How like Stars, they shine.

YMC © Nov 2008

Emily Dickinson - If you were coming in the fall (winter)

2008-07-08T03:26:00.000-07:00

I have a friend, a close friend, and she's going away. We've talked about our friendship for awhile and she wants to move on. After a long time thinking about it, I think its good. And perhaps in time, in another place, we shall carry on our conversation again. If you are reading this - Carol - this is for you. Its by Emily Dickinson.

If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.

If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.

If only centuries delayed,
I'd count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's land.

If certain, when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I'd toss it yonder like a rind,
And taste eternity.

But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time's uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.

Emily Dickinson

2008-07-08T03:21:00.000-07:00

Emily Dickinson is one of my favourite poets. However, she's not someone I would probably bring along for a long journey.

She had a fascination with death - and dwelled on it a fair bit. One of her editors ran out of her house after spending sometime with her - he found her morbid.

However, she does have a bright side. A little glimmer through the dark clouds.Here's one of her "positive" poems.

I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

Emily Dickinson

who wants to live forever

2008-06-19T21:30:00.000-07:00

who wants to live forever beneath this great shining sea
to swim with dolphins in luminous waters
to hunt with sharks in bloody waters
to descend to the great abyss

YMC 2008
(work still in progress...)

To J (2007)

2008-06-16T17:23:00.000-07:00

I wrote this 12 months ago after the Sipadan trip. I still like it.

To J

She charms me so...
How?

Is it her scent?
Perhaps.

The nearness of her fine tanned body?
Could be.

Her presence as she is next to me?
Quite likely.

Her walk as her sarong embraces her graceful hips?
Hmm... Probably.

Her smile when she looks at me playfully?
Yes, indeed Most definitely.

(The painting is courtesy of John William Waterhouse, its entitled Hylas and the Nymphs.)

Psalm 118

2008-06-13T17:52:00.000-07:00

The Lord is my companion; I will not be afraid.
What can man do to me?
The Lord is with me; I will look in triumph over my enemies.

It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man.
It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in princes.

Bible Psalm 118: 6 - 9

Maidens of the Sea

2008-06-11T00:09:00.000-07:00

As I sail
I see the maidens of the sea
Hear their syren song
Their singing voices how it allures me
I listen and am seduces
But they do not sing for me
they do not sing for me
...

Thought of the Day

2008-06-04T21:59:00.000-07:00

Examinations encourage rote learning. An exam education culture creates students who are good at answering questions but may not be so good at solving problems.

A Princess' Tale - for Aila

2008-01-06T15:01:00.000-08:00

(I thought of this story recently)

A long time ago there was a beautiful princess named Aila who lived in a desert land. It was hot and dry like all desert lands. Occasionally it would rain and the strange and wonderful desert flowers would bloom. Those were the happiest times for her. But those times were few and far between.

She longed for a green land, a land where rain would fall often, ... not too much though. Her cousin was nearly drowned in such a deluge.

She wanted to be in a land filled with summer flowers and autumn trees. A land where the roads were lined with Cherry Blossom trees in constant bloom. A land with the tall African Plain trees with their wide shady branches. A place where she would across endless fields of golden wheat and travel across vast plains of green grass like a ship crossing the sea.

One day a dreadful demon in the guise of a whirlwind passed over her land and drank up all the water. Everything turned to dust. There was little to begin with and once he had finished there was even less.

The Princess stayed in her castle, its stone walls protecting her safe from the demon. But she knew she could not stay. At night, when the air was cool once again and the demon was asleep, she made her escape.

She walked through the night, guided by star light,
In the cold comfort of the dark, she found respite

... to be continued...

With Words Unspoken...

2007-07-25T05:16:00.000-07:00

With words unspoken
With secrets untouched
We pass by each other
Like ships at dusk.

My parents killed me today

2007-06-30T18:14:00.000-07:00

I read these two horrible stories in The Australian (newspaper) recently.

You can read the stories here and here: THE AUSTRALIAN. I couldn't stop thinking about the kids. I wrote this below in response.

I think all of us should consider joining the Foster Family Care program and try and help disadvantaged children or some other similar outreach programs.

At the same time, we should be voting for politicians who give a damn about society's problem and who have practical solutions to fix them- as opposed to simply giving more money to bad parents who end spending it on drugs and alcohol.

My parents killed me today

My parents killed me today
Finally
The sobbings can cease
The pain is now gone
The social workers can go home
The judge can get another stiff drink
The defence lawyers can make another song

My parents killed me today
My father broke my skull
My mother broke my heart
Hammer
Heroin
Hashish
It wasn't our fault your honor
We know not what we done.
The jury agree and set them free
Its Society's Fault.

My parents killed me today
In my bed
I begged to be carried
My legs bones were cracked
In their drunken stupor they didn't care less
I crawled
They kicked
Wasn't fast in time
I had to be punished
Had to be taught a lesson

My parents killed me today
Bashed my skull in
Broke my slender arms
<>
Cracked my ribs
Ruptured my organs
<>
My Liver was torn in half
Why was I still breathing when the ambulance came?
Why was our neighbors' lights not on?

My parents killed me today
Broke all my bones
I told my teachers I didn't want to go home
They told me they understand
But I had to go home
Be a good boy and all will go well
But they whisper
They know
My bruises and scars - they show
And still they insist: go home.

My parents killed me today
Where love should have been showered
Malice was shown
Where kisses should have been given
Curses were thrown
A tender word, a loving touch
All quite alien in my father's heart

My parents killed me today
My parents killed me today
My parents killed me today
The mourners wail, the journalist sigh
The politicians shrug their shoulders
Tomorrow they will not remember me
All will go home
And leave my cold body alone.

Leia

2007-06-28T22:20:00.000-07:00

My love is like the sunshine after the rain
Bold but sure He comes forth
And embraces me.

My love

2007-06-24T20:46:00.000-07:00

My love is like the Spring that comes forth after Winter
Full of life, with every step she takes, all Creation follows
Undaunted, unashamed, in full readiness she walks
Full of confidence, full of life, exuberant,
She warms my heart like sunshine on a cold day
Her mere presence fills me with life
And her voice
Her sweet voice melts my heart
And drives my demons away.

"My Love is like the Spring that blossoms"

2007-06-21T09:16:00.000-07:00

My Love is like the Spring that comes forth after Winter
Eager, yet shy, beneath her youthful gaze lies pure joy.
Each step she takes, and the whole life-force of Creation move with her
As she smiles, time itself stopped to admire her
The flowers blossomed when we kissed
The butterflies came as she sang.
Oh, how she enchanted me so.

Sipadan

2007-06-18T01:58:00.000-07:00

I want to swim in the sea of blue
Amidst the infinite fish at Sipadan
To wander in the coral forest
To have the sun eclipsed by swarms of silver fish
To gaze at the deep depth patrolled by sharks
To wash my face in the sea of tears
To bath in the light of the golden morning sun
And to look back and see you smile

Tsunami

2007-06-15T18:39:00.000-07:00

See how it slumbers, the monster sea

One day it may awake and swallow thee

(ymc 2005)

Where I want to be

2007-06-15T18:36:00.001-07:00

I want to be in a place where I can see the blue sky
In a place with trees and butterflies
Where the only sound I can hear is the beat of my heart
The sound of birds singing in the distance
I see the lushness of the forest
and feel the caress of the soft breeze of the wind
mingled with the fragrance of the trees.
I hear the growing stillness of the night
And the whispering of the leaves...

(And sitting here in my balcony- it feels just right)

The Princess

2007-06-15T06:19:00.000-07:00

Friday, December 15, 2006
The Princess

Her shield her intelligence
Her rapier her wit
How dazzling her armor
How she moves with confidence and grace
She brushes aside the arrows
She leaps over the battlements
Capturing Hearts,
Crushing foes.

The Young Prince

2007-06-15T06:14:00.000-07:00

The young prince

The young prince lived in a castle. The castle was magnificent, ornate, filled with wonderful furniture, jewels, arms and armor, wealth, and riches beyond compare. Its library was vast and had more books that a year has seconds. Outside its walls was a large splendid garden with beautiful roses and fields of colorful poppy flowers.

But the prince was alone, he searched in vain for other young people but there was no one to be found, not even a squeaky mouse. The prince tried many times to leave but he found he couldn't. The castle wouldn't let him. In the day he walked out, but when he fell asleep he found himself right back in his ornate chamber bed.

One day, the young prince found a baby boy in the garden, asleep among the roses. Amazed, he took him in and raised him up, teaching the orphan all he knew. Then one day, unexpectedly, the prince died; and orphan and castle mourned for him. All the flowers died and a mighty wind carried their petals, scattering them. The heavens opened, the sky grew dark, and it rained, and rained, and rained.

And then the orphan knew what he had to do.

He took the crown of the dead prince, and placed it on his own head. He said, "Behold I am the prince let me reign." The rain stopped as if on command, the sun shone, and the flowers bloomed.

But the young prince wept.

J

2007-06-15T01:45:00.000-07:00

She charms me so...
How?

Is it her scent?
Maybe.

The nearness of her smooth tanned skin?
Could be.

Her presence as she lingers next to me?
Quite likely.

The way she walks as her pink sarong embraces her graceful hips?
Hmm... Probably.

Her smile when she looks at me?
Yes, most definitely. Absolutely.

In the green I walk

2007-06-15T01:44:00.000-07:00

Sunday, November 26, 2006

In the green I walk
Past lush forest trees
The air is wet with their scent
Moss covers them like robes for royalty
I stay silent and listen
Listen

...

As the trees whisper their ancient song

Modern Romance

2007-06-15T01:41:00.000-07:00

With words unspoken
With lips untouched
We pass by each other
Like passing ships at dusk

The Tempest

2007-06-14T22:47:00.000-07:00

She broods
She broods
And Darkness Fills the Sky
In the distance thunder rolls softly by

How times flies

2007-06-13T02:12:00.000-07:00

I'll be turning 39 this year. Amazing. Sometimes I feel like I'm still 21. I still look very young by comparison to my peers- good genes I guess. I eat junk food, hardly exercise (in the last 20 years) - so those two factors can be ruled out.

Occasionally I bump into people who think I'm 25 or younger. When i tell them my age- they reckon I'm having them on.

I don't exactly blame them. I don't have age wrinkles. My hair is still relatively black (I do have some white hair- but I reckon that was caused by a recent tragedy), I still look relatively fit- and occasionally I've got the energy of a 20 year old. Sometimes I even surprise myself.

My back has been giving me trouble tho. My trainer spotted a problem with my sub-scap- the shoulder blade muscle. Basically my chest muscles are stronger compared to my back muscles. I just have inherently good chest muscle tissue. So the back shoulder are being pulled forward. Saw a sports doctor who said it wasn't a serious problem- and recommended me to a physio whose helping me deal with it. Seems to be working. But I think I may have to take up swimming again to ease the strain.

Gotta go to gym now. My aim is to get a good sixpack and a good physique before I hit the dreaded 40. Who knows? Maybe I can even get onto the cover for Men's Health.

My Love is like The Spring

2007-06-11T20:11:00.001-07:00

I sent this poem in for a competition being organised by the Elephant and Coral in Singapore last year July 2004. I got invited by the organisers to a wine, chesse and oyster party in September. But I couldn't go as I was already in Melbourne.

"My Love is like the Spring that blossoms"
Spring comes forth like my young Love.
Eager, yet shy, beneath her youthful gaze hides unboundable pure joy.
As she walks, the whole life-force of Creation moves at one with her
As she smiles, time itself stopped to admire her
The flowers blossomed when we kissed
The butterflies came as she sang.
Oh, how she enchanted me so.

Start

2007-06-11T18:45:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

I thought I'd have a blog where I can put up my "poems"- most of them don't match the traditional style though... hence the quotes.

I liked writing poems... short simple, encapsulating that moment of emotion: grief, happiness, thoughtfulness...

Its like a photograph into your psyche - a snapshot of the mind.

I've been writing the stuff since high school. Hope u like it.