Sibu town maternity museum
everybody born on
the same beds
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Sibu town maternity museum
as loud as their silence
the labour instruments
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Encounter - Tan Sri Tiong Hiew King
Tan Sri Tiong Hiew King
he sizes me up to know whether i know
how rich a sarawakian can be
first me in the mid 80s at the Rimbunan Hijau office in Jalan Mission, Sibu. I was working with the Holiday Inn Kuching and was paying a courtesy call. Holiday Inn Kuching was then the only five star hotel in Kuching.
Tan Sri Datuk Sir Hiew-king Tiong (simplified Chinese: 张晓卿; traditional Chinese: 張曉卿; pinyin: Zhāng Xiǎoqīng) is the Malaysian Chinese founder and chairman of the Rimbunan Hijau Group, a timber company founded in 1975. Its overseas timber operations in Papua New Guinea is the largest in that country. He also has interests in logging operations in Russia.
Tan Sri Datuk Tiong resides in Sibu, a town in Sarawak, of Borneo island that belongs to Malaysia. With a reported net worth of about US$1.1 billion, Tiong is ranked by Forbes as the 840th richest person in the world.- Wikipedia
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beds Too Big Without You
Beds too big without you
Cold wind blows right thru my open door
I cant sleep with your memory
Dreaming dreams of what used to be
When she left I was cold inside
That look on my face was just pride
No regrets no love no tears
Living on my own was the least of my fears
Beds too big without you
The beds too big without you
The beds too big
Without you
Since that day when youd gone
Just had to carry on
I get thru day but late at night
Made love to my pillow but it didnt feel right
Every day, just the same
Old rules for the same old game
All I gained was heartache
All I made was one mistake
Now the beds too big without you
The beds too big without you
The beds too big
Without you
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stand By Your Beds
m gonna keep it in the family
Gotta straighten my face
Wanna keep it in the family
Savin? my disgrace
Like a tick-a time bomb inside ame
Been to the mount, seen the other side
Money back, number one, guaranteed
Sole-satisfied
Gimme, gimme, gimme it all
Gimme, gimme, gimme it all
Everybody celebrate, stand by your beds
By your beds
Easy access, easy led, stand by your beds
By your beds
Yknow its nothin? new Im telling you
Its always been around
Its the home made milkshake
Apple pies n? lemonade
Never turned down
Gimme, gimme, gimme it all
Gimme, gimme, gimme it all
Everybody celebrate, stand by your beds
By your beds
Easy access, easy led, stand by your beds
By your beds
Gimme, gimme, gimme it alll
Gimme, gimme, gimme it all
Everybody celebrate, stand by your beds
By your beds
Easy access, easy led, stand by your beds
By your beds
(rankin, agnew, hardwell......polygram/trinitron)
Published by nazareth (dunfermline) ltd.
Copyright 1994 polydor gmbh, hamburg
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Foggy Day
I was a stranger in the city
Out of town were the people I knew
I had that feeling of self-pity
What to do, what to do, what to do
The outlook was decidedly blue
But as I walked through the foggy streets alone
It turned out to be the luckiest day I've known
A foggy day, in London Town
Had me low, had me down
I viewed the morning, with much alarm
British museum, had lost its charm
How long I wondered,
Could this thing last
But the age of miracles, hadn't past
For suddenly, I saw you there
And through foggy London Town,
The sun was shining everywhere
For suddenly, I saw you there
And through foggy London Town,
The sun was shining everywhere
Everywhere
Everywhere
Everywhere
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald, music by George Gershwin, lyrics by Ira Gershwin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Museum of Nothing
Although the museum had nothing on exhibit...
The people not believing this,
Would still come in droves to visit.
They would stand in line to wait.
And pay their fee to gain entry.
And inquire, once inside...
Why was nothing there,
To sustain them with pride.
And from room to vacant room,
They walked behind the tour guide!
So the board of directors,
Decided to please them all.
And changed the name of the museum!
The museum was renamed,
The Museum of Nothing.
And people came in the Winter,
Spring, Summer and Fall.
And 'nothing' it was affectionately called.
Although the museum had nothing on exhibit...
The people not believing this,
Would still come in droves to visit.
They would stand in line to wait.
And pay their fee to gain entry.
Some adjusting to the nothingness.
While others stood for hours,
Just to stare as if in disbelief.
Addicted to anything said to them.
And clearly easy to deceive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Museum Of Idiots
They built this whole neighborhood out of wood, out of wood.
I guess I'll still be around when they burn, burn it down.
I will be standing around when they burn it down.
Here in the Museum of Idiots.
Honey, I'm there when you need me, please believe me, please believe me.
I'll still be right where you left me, if you manage to forget me.
Where we met is where you may forget.
Here in the Museum of Idiots.
If you and I had any brains, we wouldn't be in this place.
Chop me up into pieces if it pleases, if it pleases.
And when the chopping is through, every piece will say, "I love you."
Every piece of me will say "I love you."
Here in the Museum of Idiots.
Every piece of me will say "I love you, you you"
Here in the Museum of Idiots.
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Born In The U. S. A.
Born down in a dead mans town
The first kick I took was when I hit the ground
You end up like a dog thats been beat too much
Till you spend half your life just covering up
Born in the u.s.a., I was born in the u.s.a.
I was born in the u.s.a., born in the u.s.a.
Got in a little hometown jam
So they put a rifle in my hand
Sent me off to a foreign land
To go and kill the yellow man
Born in the u.s..a....
Come back home to the refinery
Hiring man said son if it was up to me
Went down to see my v.a. man
He said son, dont you understand
I had a brother at khe sahn
Fighting off the viet cong
Theyre still there, hes all gone
He had a woman he loved in saigon
I got a picture of him in her arms now
Down in the shadow of the penitentiary
Out by the gas fires of the refinery
Im ten years burning down the road
Nowhere to run aint got nowhere to go
Born in the u.s.a., I was born in the u.s.a.
Born in the u.s.a., Im a long gone daddy in the u.s.a.
Born in the u.s.a., born in the u.s.a.
Born in the u.s.a., Im a cool rocking daddy in the u.s.a.
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Malaysiana - Rejang River
POETRY IN PROGRESS
I never knew you are a giant
until i went around the country
i saw the Klang and Gombak rivers
in Kuala Lumpur and and were surprised
to learn that they even called them rivers
arent them really just little rivers or streams?
the ones we put pavements over at the old market in Sibu
malaysians should see the Sarawak and Rejang Rivers
to know what Sarawakians mean by rivers
that would be a real integration of
geographical standads and how we see things
when after a rain and the sun begins to set,
a walk at the Rejang Esplanade does feel like
on a beach, the water lapping and splashing
the cool and fresh air revitalising the lungs and body
at sweet and pulpy pineapple town Sarikei
and sugary green orange town Bintangor
and at Kerto where vases and colourful pottery
are moulded out of the Rejang quality clay
Poetry in progress
(to be continued)
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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visiting Hiroshima
1>Peace Memorial Museum.
two buildings
the museum surveys the history of Hiroshima
and the advent of the nuclear bomb.
main focus August 6; the dropping of the bomb
and its outcome in human suffering
personally it upset me
2.Cenotaph for the A-Bomb Victims
Between the Museum
and the A-Bomb Dome
an arched tomb
for those who died
because
initial blast
and then
of exposure to radiation
3. The Register
Below the arch is a stone chest
holding a register
of these names,
there
are over 220,000
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Endless Poem
In a modern museum
In an old synagogue
In the synagogue
I
Within me
My heart
Within my heart
A museum
Within a museum
A synagogue
Within it
I
Within me
My heart
Within my heart
A museum
poem by Yehuda Amichai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outlaw
(coverdale/lord/marsden)
When I left my home
I was not much more than a child,
My mother started crying
She knew that I was born to be wild
cos I was looking for the bright lights of the big city,
A red hot town where the girls are pretty
I took to the highway,
Chasing my dream down the line
Heading out for trouble,
Never finding my peace of mind
cos I been run out of town so many times before
An usually kind of places where I cant go back no more
Outlaw - born outside of the law,
Just another outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
I never find it easy trying to keep the feeling alive,
Ive always been a dreamer,
Dreamers find it hard to survive
When theyre living in the bright lights of the big city,
A red hot town where the girls are pretty
Outlaw - born outside of the law,
Just another outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
Outlaw - born outside of the law,
Just another outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
Outlaw - born outside of the law,
Just another outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
Born outside of the law,
Just another outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
Outlaw, outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wander-Light
And they heard the tent-poles clatter,
And the fly in twain was torn –
'Tis the soiled rag of a tatter
Of the tent where I was born.
And what matters it, I wonder?
Brick or stone or calico? –
Or a bush you were born under,
When it happened long ago?
And my beds were camp beds and tramp beds and damp beds,
And my beds were dry beds on drought-stricken ground,
Hard beds and soft beds, and wide beds and narrow –
For my beds were strange beds the wide world round.
And the old hag seemed to ponder
('Twas my mother told me so),
And she said that I would wander
Where but few would think to go.
"He will fly the haunts of tailors,
He will cross the ocean wide,
For his fathers, they were sailors
All on his good father's side."
Behind me, before me, Oh! my roads are stormy
The thunder of skies and the sea's sullen sound,
The coaster or liner, the English or foreign,
The state-room or steerage the wide world round.
And the old hag she seemed troubled
As she bent above the bed,
"He will dream things and he'll see things
To come true when he is dead.
He will see things all too plainly,
And his fellows will deride,
For his mothers they were gipsies
All on his good mother's side."
And my dreams are strange dreams, are day dreams, are grey dreams,
And my dreams are wild dreams, and old dreams and new;
They haunt me and daunt me with fears of the morrow –
My brothers they doubt me – but my dreams come true.
And so I was born of fathers
From where ice-bound harbours are
Men whose strong limbs never rested
And whose blue eyes saw afar.
Till, for gold, one left the ocean,
Seeking over plain and hill;
And so I was born of mothers
Whose deep minds were never still.
I rest not, 'tis best not, the world is a wide one
And, caged for an hour, I pace to and fro;
I see things and dree things and plan while I'm sleeping,
I wander for ever and dream as I go.
I have stood by Table Mountain
On the Lion at Capetown,
And I watched the sunset fading
From the roads that I marked down,
And I looked out with my brothers
From the heights behind Bombay,
Gazing north and west and eastward,
Over roads I'll tread some day.
For my ways are strange ways and new ways and old ways,
And deep ways and steep ways and high ways and low;
I'm at home and at ease on a track that I know not,
And restless and lost on a road that I know.
poem by Henry Lawson
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St. Sebastian
Slender arrows,
pierce me through.
I wanted to forgive,
but too quickly
they flew.
My mind fades.
I rise to you.
**
ref: St. Sebastian, Andrea Mantegna 1456-59, Kunsthistorisches Museum
(viewed at the De Young Museum, San Francisco)
poem by Steven Federle
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The Edison Museum
The edison museum, not open to the public
Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above
Folks drive in from out of town
To gaze in amazement when they see it
Just outside the gate I look into the courtyard
Underneath the gathering thunderstorm
Through the iron bars, I see the black maria
Revolving slowly in its platform
In the topmost tower, the lights burn dim
A coiling filament glowing within
The edison museum, once a bustling factory
Today is but a darkened cobweb covered hive of industry
The tallest, widest and most famous haunted mansion in new jersey
Behind a wooden door, the voice of thomas alva
Recites a poem on a phonograph
Ghosts float up the stairs, like silent moving pictures
The loyal phantoms of his in house staff
A wondrous place it is, there can be no doubt
But no one ever goes in, and no one ever goes out
The edison museum, not open to the public
Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above it
The oldest, greatest and most famous haunted mansion in new jersey
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Visit Malaysia Year Poem - The Women of Sibu (Sibu Town, Sarawak)
I love this little town
where mothers love
their children like a
divine gift from the heavens
a sparkling jewel they cannot part
a part of themselves
two lovers no one could
tear apart without causing
the live-till-you-die pain
have you ever seen
a 60s something woman
who had died for hours but
still lied there with a body stiffened
with the propensity to love and to give
the most tender care to a child?
a gesture she had carried all
through her life. from her son to
daughter, grand daughter and
great grand daughter that even death
could not take away
that stamp of care that everybody longs for
that reassuraing touch that warms us
up to ourselves,
the tender touch of unconditional love that
helps us sleep better
death freezes a love
without taking away
the signature of its capacity
to warm up the hearts of children
that woman lying there wordless
and soon a feast for worms
i love this little town
where mothers love their children
till they are up to a ripe old age
as if they are still their new gifts
from the heavens, fresh out of
the first born maternity room
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Beds To The Front Of Them
'Beds to the front of them,
Beds to the right of them,
Beds to the left of them,
Nobody blundered.
Beamed at by hungry souls,
Screamed at with brimming bowls,
Steamed at by army rolls,
Buttered and sundered.
With coffee not cannon plied,
Each must be satisfied,
Whether they lived or died;
All the men wondered.'
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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0408 The Phoenix Museum
A sightseeing phoenix a sign espied:
'This way to the Phoenix Museum';
A little homesick, went inside;
Looked for friends; but couldn't see 'em.
In hindsight, the title's
Just a little rash;
The Phoenix Museum
Is now a pile of ash...
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Black people should have recognition for themselves and their backgrounds and their relationships with other people in the world and thus lose some of their alienation. This museum has certainly stood for that in this town.
quote by Katherine Dunham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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