Author Archives: wonkywizard

About wonkywizard

Retired Medical General Practitioner. MA (English) at Open University, Malaysia. Published three poetry books: 1. Flickering Flame: Poetic Echoes. 2. Landscape and Cloudscape: Poetic Echoes.3.Healing Haiku & Senryu: poetic echoes to soothe hearts


隨心所欲, 平安順遂 Si Xin Suo Yu, Ping An Shun Sui (translation: Follow one’ desire, peace and prosperity flows smoothly)

If desire matches the heart, peace ensue;

Greed fall into ravine, debt to pursue.

Let the heart flows with the stream, sail is smooth;

Tired of one’s life journey, calm breathing soothes.

欲: 谷    欠
    Gu    Qiàn

Own and owe are pairs,  tango in the dance;
Music hold the trance, quit when there is chance.
Stand still to be boxed , shut up when accuse;
Step up your abuses, bombs will defuse.

欠      人    刀
Qiàn    ren   dao

Lost your grand glitter, with grudges to grind;
Kill all from behind, stay supreme in mind.
Print and play dollars, riches rush to shore;
Manipulate all, greed soar to start war.

遇 yu (meet, encounter)

Provoke fight to regress others progress;
Trigger world war to stop others success.


A friend forwarded me a morning message greeting in Chinese.隨心所欲, 平安順遂 Si Xin Suo Yu, Ping An Shun Sui . It means, Follow the desire of your heart, peace and prosperity will flow smoothly with it. There is no doubt that desire motivates from needs to want, and move to more and more possessions, but ultimately may not end in peace and prosperity.  欲 (desire) is homophonic with 遇 (natural chance encounter). If the heart follows with the flow, there is more likelihood of peace and harmony. 

I was curious with the Chinese pictograph word Desire, YU. It comprises of two radicals, the left Gu means a valley, ravine or gorge (meaning confronting problems), and the right Gian, means debt or owe or insufficiency. Again, the Gian has 2 sub radicals, the bottom is ren, meaning man, and the top has two strokes, signifies a knife, shelter, or the original root of yawning sound in lethargy. 

I am not Chinese educated, but I look at pictures in Chinese words , and learn the philosophy behind the language, and the moral lessons from it. The sonnet is also a reflection of passing current events in world politics, especially between US and allies, and China. IF US and the Western allies wish to stay supreme, the morals must go with it, otherwise, desire carries a debt, a moral human debt, with the dagger at the top. 

"Must Dance With Wolves": China Foreign Minister's Remarks Go Viral. Again, the Chinese folklore about The Farmer and the Snake, with its abrupt ending, teaches us  that one learns to be smart when attempt to help another. Despite the lessons over the centuries, many still fall for it. Human beings like to find connection, but may end up in wrong wiring. 

I have some problems in copy and paste pictures from the web to promote some understanding of my poetry.



In doughy folds, the pasty holds its fill;

Soft, cheesy and sticky, a taste divine.

Ang Ku Kueh, a treat that brings thrill and spill;

In every bite, a flavour that aligns.

Yet in the oven, garlic bread does bake;

Its scent a fragrance to instill the heart.

The crunch of crust, the tender warmth it makes;

A perfect match with pasta, cheese or tart.

These two delights, so different and sweet;

Could bring us joy with every bite we take.

Flavors, textures and aromas compete;

A symphony of tastes we cannot fake.

In every meal, these two could grace our plate;

In their pleasures, our senses could sedate.


A friend send the pictures of ang ku kueh and Japanese garlic bread to Chat gpt, with instruction to compose a sonnet. I merely ensure each line has 10 syllables each.


Bathe in its shine and light in our walk;

The morning sun is a symbol of hope.

A new day, a new beginning:

Let us embrace it with open arms.

Our muscles and tone need to tone;

But let’s do it in spurts, not all at once.

Let’s take it slow: step by step

And feel the enrgy flow through us.

Time to greet the day with exercises

Beat up the pulp to get us energize.

Stretch and move, and feel the burn

Our bodies will thank us in return.

Let’s push ourselves to be our best;

And never settle for anything less.

With each rep, we grow stronger,

And our confidence last even longer.

Disability is not a weakness

Its a strength that we possess

We face challenges everyday

But we never get them in our way.


This was the morning message I sent to my of my friends and relatives:

Hurrah to the morning sun, bathe in its shine and light in our walk. The muscles and bones need to tone. Yet we need to do it in spurts. (Time to greet the day, and beat up the pulp in exercises. Ed I miss out a few words in forwarding via hp)Time to rest and continue my reading on THE POWER OF DISABILITY and find inspiration from others.

A friend sent that to Chat GPT and asked to compose a poem based on that. She then sent that reply to me. I called her back to check that my hp was not hacked.


Seclude spot on hill, stroll with stick to top;

Short serpentine slope, seek shelter to stop.

Vantage view to rest, embrace by green lush;

In love with the park, breath away with blush.

Shy after sunset, leaves from raintree fold;

At sunrise, crowns and canopies, unfold.

Old heritage stood for years near the lake;

Paddle, jungle hike or walk for health sake.

Leisure invigorates, caught by fast rain;

Rescue came, wade through slippery mud lane.

Shower was short-lived and hassle as brief;

Lives like falling leaves, and most end in grief.

Wander and wonder, roam in comfort zone;

Tone muscles and bones, my confine was known.


Often poetry comes to me in my contemplative walk; they are like air, flow in uninvited.

I enjoy my exercises during these short walk with Nature. The family usually know where to find me, in case help is needed. I prefer to chose sites with seats, shelter and toilets.

of course, I have read on the topic in order to expand my verses. I have been to MacRitchie Reservoir park many times over the years. However, the distance I covered gets shorter each visit due to my knees. I need to sit and rest to continue.

The pictures are all copied-pasted from the web with appreciation to their owners. Lately, the computer demanded a lot to download my own pictures, and the e skill defied me.


Continuous rain, canals fill to brim;

Running fast down stream, no gush over rim.

Chase away by chill, windows shut by breeze;

Wind whistles among trees, sway by the tease.

Chase the cold in youth, now a feat to face;

Space is sky above, live on borrowed grace.

Life measure by gait, reins far and near;

Steer clear on hilly slopes, so the ears can hear.

Defects rise with age, best not to fix all;

Decide gain and loss, perfect makes one fall.

Heal when cures are false, flaws are more real;

Labels do conceal, person will reveal.

Spotted from hideouts, sun shines heat again;

Nature wax and wane, brains fond of complain.


It was raining continuously for the whole day. The waters had filled the canals to the brim , without overflow outside to the walking\running track. The scene was just outside my bedroom window, in my daughter’s house in Singapore. Back in Malaysia, the monsoon drain are as wide, but they are full of rubbish and debris, thereby blocking the free flow of fast running water. Soon the whole area will be flooded, from the streets into the houses. In Singapore, the drains are cleared often, and heavy fines for wrong disposal of rubbish. Education of citizens fail, as observed in my condominium. And we have no prohibitive laws on right disposal.

The first stanza was merely an observation. In bygone days, I would carry an umbrella outside and feel and chase the chill, but now the cold chased me away, plus the fear of falling at this age. The train of thought and feeling reflected my own physical disability, especially my operated total knee replacement, which might lock itself suddenly, plus a moderate hearing loss.

Today, the sun reappeared for a short while, and I took the opportunity to go out for half hour walk. My walking distance and paces shrink with age, yet there is need to build muscle and bone power to keep life going. I have to keep moderating and re- moderate my exercises as days passed.

The pictures are all copied-pasted from the web with appreciation to their owners. They help some readers to understand my poetry.


You gossip ghost tales, I follow your freak;

Gather all to heart, you feel tongue-in-cheek.

Ghost is not true ghost, angels fall from form;

Monsters and freaks are adored more than norm.

Tears are seen in smile, calm hide in illness;

Streak of jokes and farce, give vent to sadness.

Herein lies the tang, who else can savour;

Who dare to savour, who care to favour.

Versions of ghost tales, yours and mine differ;

Shot down by your jets, fear and rage quiver.

The might makes it right, war threat to decide;

Allies on your side, pride cause weird divide.

Pleasure, anger, sorrow and joy : all meet;

Gather awe in our hearts, smiles and tears greet.


Liaw (chat) Zhai (in a room) is a book (about 500 stories) written by Pu Songling in 1740, Qing Dynasty. It was a book about ghosts, monsters, vixens etc , with moral lessons. There was a song and lyric in a later movie. The title of the Song, SHUO LIAW ZHAI, literally meaning telltales in tea rooms. The Chinese word for SHOU, has two radicals: the left side is Yan, meaning to tell; the right radical is DUI, meaning to cash out. In other words, what you said could be cash out, meaning your honoured the spoken words.

Lately, we hear lots of stories about the feared Chinese metrological balloons, but reckoned as spy balloons, with sinister motives. In fact US has been sending such balloons all over the world as “civil” or “commercial” use. The Chinese send in weather balloons to test US reaction. They were shot down, if the jets did not missed. In other words, US shoot at :civil” flying objects over their sky. This is indirect permission for others to shoot at their balloons , without prejudice. The bombardment of the steam pipeline by US showed the great nation was far from telling the truth all the time. The Song was quoted as a parody of US might: You tell ghost stories, We also tell ghosts stories; the ghosts is not that ghosts, and the monsters are not that monsters. It may be easy to invite ghosts into your house, but problems to evict them.

The pictures are copied-pasted from the web, with appreciation to their owners. The magical or mythical stories are quite interesting to read or watch.


Balloon seen in sky, it cannot be spy;

Secret to sly eyes, lies and farce fly high.

Cost billions to shoot, condom burst and fall;

Gall and awe rain down, feel tall on the haul.

Not a weather brawl, watch up whims of war;

Bore to the core, when sore, attack your shore.

Drifted by the wind, balloon lost control;

Civil use by all, eagle lost it’s soul.

Drama takes days to propagate and play;

Story is blown up, the world laugh and pray.

Fools in bard’s tales, idiots versus wise;

High price to react, steal device, not nice.

World is in turmoil, tantrum to get way;

Astray is decay, tune to others’ say.


A metrological balloon was drifted by the wind, and blown from north western China to Alaska, Canada and then America. The United States was aware of it on the 28th January 2023, and alerted the Chinese, and the Chinese government was aware. The balloon was at a height of 50,000 m , and slowly fall to 20,00 m, over the days. The story then changes, the civil becomes political and military, spying on US., the device is not equipped. (The Chinese has very efficient space station, and there are better ways for them to spy.)Then the pentagon ordered F22 to shoot it down, until the balloon is drifted to the sea. Fancy spending more than 380 B USD to shoot down a metrological balloon costing USD 1200(RMB 8000). How smart that could be, just for media or propaganda value.

To qualify as a “spy”, it must be concealed, not openly seen or known. It must be hostile , or there are dangerous chemical or gases hidden.

Many thanks for the pictures copy-pasted from the web.


fig fruits hide flowers

sexes, wasps frolic inside

in idyllic scene

fun and fuss with figs

sip coffee with widow’ s tales

dip in nearby stream


On the third day of Chinese New Year holidays, my nephews and their family drove me to visit Fig Farm of Malaysia at Janda Baik, about an hour and half from my residence, in the rain with traffic congestion.

Janda in Malay means widow; Baik means good or righteous. I was curious to know how the name of the place come about. Mr. Syed, a civil engineer from Nottingham University, UK, related the history for me. There was once an orang asli (Malaysian aborigines; a settlement of them nearby) witch doctor who resides here. His wife ran away , reason unknown. He used his witchcraft skill to get the return of his wife; the place was then called Janda Balek. The local Malays changed Balek to Baik. The senior Syed wrote a thick book on Fig Culture in the Tropics, started a fig farm and harvested them for export, with lots of downstream products.

This place has become a resort area for city folks, with lots of Home Stays. It is a serene place, with misty hills and idyllic scene, and a fast running stream nearby. Unfortunately, the rain and construction caused some minor mud slide, and the litters and rubbish would soon destroyed its serenity and tranquility. Plans for landscaping could be for sale, with deforestation.


spring sweep in shelter

silvery strands strewn on floors

season’s stressful stint

chores choke at corners

dust and dirt dwell on hoarding

less to free chaos

throw-away buying

waste is private affluence

deprive others’ right


I read Erich Fromm’ book “To Have or To be” several decades ago (First Published in 1976). Recently I have seen my old wife doing Spring -Cleaning, when the house is not really dirty, not perfect, but clean enough. Many other housewives do the same, and then suffer the aches and pain of excessive work. I do help a little, vacuum the floors before she mops. I notice more silvery strands strewn on the floors, due to the stress. The more furniture and fixtures, the more one has to bend to wipe and sweep. We clutter and then declutter in this market driven technology and advertisement. In our modern world, having is a status symbol and shows ease of living. These days, most of the things are not made to last, otherwise factories will close down and workers out of jobs. We have advanced fast in science and technology, but inwardly we are the same 50 years or more ago. The entanglement of private property, profit and power are still the same, but expressed differently. (The Latin word for private means to deprive another.) Authority and its power are entangled in it. US and the advanced rich nations have the obsession to stay supreme, to be in control of industry. Human Rights and Truth are just excuses for them.

I welcome any comment and discussion.

The pictures are copied-pasted from the web, with appreciation to their owners,


fair fart for flare fried

nice rice in coconut milk

samba with sambal

flair for spicy sauce

fingers for five elements

stir up sentiments

sulfide on exit

digest indigestible

manure for nature


Rich people have their fun travel overseas in flaire. We have more humble needs, local tour, driving own car. We are lucky to have youngsters to assist in driving and act as unpaid guided tour. My brother asked, at this age, why tortured yourself with long distance car travel in such hot weather. Well, we are social beings, we need interaction with people and nature, and I need to seek inspiration for poetry.

Nasi Lemak (rice cooked with coconut milk etc) is a very common Malay cuisine, and is sold everywhere in the country, and yet Malaysians of all ethnicities shared and enjoy the dish. We had our dinner there before we drove back to Setia Alam, Selangor.

The sign board caught my eyes, WK, Wak Kentut,even in the dim of night. It is

translated by me as Fair Fart. It may sound vulgar, but it’s innocent .The business is excellent compared with neighbour shops. One can thrive selling one product well, if learn to reinvent in a modern market media world. I was requested to compose a poetry on food. Today is the last day of the year. We were invited tonight for dinner to Count Down. The toilet at the back of the restaurant were not the best place to count down…

I copied pasted the pictures from the website with appreciation to their owners. My computer added extra burden for me to unload my own pictures.


Knees awake by chill, then cramp, stiff and lock;

Shock when walk is blocked, struggle to door: knock.

My angel wife comes, assist to the loo;

Flushing down my brew, the tension brake through.

Bionic joint last, longer than my years;

Symptoms seen as blame, fail to listen rife.

Patients have patience, all rooted in pain;

Relapse springs again, complaint ends in vain.

Label disable, dashboard sticker laid;

Wear pair of hearing aid, sound and noise grade.

Bones, muscles, organs: age faster than years;

Longer lives mean more money care and tears.

Change is certain, but not the same aging pace;

Face disabilities with grace, no race.


My sonnet was inspired after reading “Lead With Grace””, a free book offered. I am not a Christian, and took some time to understand the Dao of The Shepherd Metaphor and The Missing Lamb Metaphor. Strange to comment that many good Christians miss the wisdom in metaphor, together with Genesis. Perhaps their minds are still full of divide and arrogance due to fear. They are lost in their own obsession to win.

The logo of “disabled”with a wheel chair is good, but the public misunderstand it. Many tend to think the “Disabled” must be in wheelchair, or miss a limb or blind. I am not in such categories, yet I have multiple disabilities, not manifested all together. I am sorry to disappoint such people. Despite this, I have encountered many people who cares, and willing to help when requested. There are more good people around, despite many are watching what or how to do good. Sometimes I have to show my card, for I look well. (I could not ventured out, if unwell! Perhaps I should act like the politicians here.) My benefits do not disadvantage another; it only help in my ease of living, especially in parking.The Dao, Lokadhamma or Ikigai or Sufism all help to put concepts into action. The world already suffers a big divide. We must learn to build bridges to link and connect.This is especially so in Malaysia, when race hold supreme. Luckily, this does not happen at the social or mundane market scenario.

My thanks to the author again. I read it free in my kobo.