Category Archives: life


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.


Index in ink pot, dip and stain to vote;

Ballot booth to note, choice of code to dot.

Gerrymander, with kith and kin, to win;

Coax clients and cash, teenage voters spin.

Millions enter scene, shift old power game;

Hung neck to neck, zealous bigots to blame.

Intrigue by scandals, dead knots suffocates;

Money, race and religion dominate.

Push burden baggage to King, with tags stain;

Five days to free knots, odd marriage is sane.

Avoid overstep, apology heals;

Hard to seal the cracks, hate erupts and feel.

Dearth to govern well, saga show his worth;

Mirth of politics, bridge gaps in new birth.


Malaysia celebrates Anwar Ibrahim as the 10th Prime Minister, after 30 years of political saga. It is not an easy take over, with so many ills and malaise in the country. However, with all the contenders for current power game, most fair minded Malaysians will think he is the best man for the post at a very bad time.

I have no political links. The sonnet is mainly a narrative of what I have read from the media and the many forwarded mails to me. In a multi racial and multi cultural nation, it is naive to think the dominant will share power fairly with the minorities, bearing in mind the demographic trend of the nation. Nevertheless we need to appreciate one another’s sensitivities, and learn to readjust and re balance at each changing phase of development. The future is for the young to decide, and it is not an easy world to live in. Best for the seniors not to mess up things. The consolation for the election is many corrupt politicians lost their deposits and end their legacies in historical dustbins.

The title of the sonnet was from the awe of watching seismic shift of earthquake in Indonesia lately.

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


away from hustle

back to bustle of living

restlessness is bane

wind beat up ripple

sparkled surface roll to bank

serene silence stray

unsightly banners

dirty linens on display

system in shamble


My e boxes are loaded with election related mails and videos daily. Basically, they all shared similar racial content, and alert all to vote for their respective party. There are nothing new, the same old faces and farts that have failed the people and nation in every promise. Frankly I do not read them at all, for there are better things to read or do. I asked a youngster to drive us to nearby country towns. We went to the reservoir and hot spring and town of Kuala Kuku Bahru, and drove along west coast highway to Teluk Anson and Sitiawan; visiting and eating local favourite foods all the way. Heavy downpour on our way home, and it was wet and pitched dark to get back, with angst about flood in low lying areas. In the last flood, the PM talked about drainage and enlarged embankment etc, but it must be silly to take politicians talk seriously.

A senior submerged under water (T 42 C) with air nozzle above surface, for several minutes per episodes. He then took a rest , and repeat the ritual, over an hour. He visited the place twice a week. The umbrella (red) was to protect him against the sun at 32 to 35C. The toilet had no cold water services.


dark clouds and drizzle

flash and thunder under trees

strike in heaven”s way

rain drops fall on head

drizzle on bright sunny day

turn back, shine again

living with changes

walk the way or swear at sky

mind, weather or wrath


We face all kinds of woe and misery in a post pandemic world. The simplest daily problem is the unpredictable weather, especially in the coming months with the election. For the seniors, the travel is challenged, not only by the rain and flood, but also by traffic jam, and finding toilets to pee. In Malaysia, it’s much easier; no one will video a senior doing their natural download behind the bush. The same cannot be said in Singapore. The walking tracks in Singapore are excellent, paved and anti-slippery, lined by slogans to remind citizens to greet another, and defibrilator on stand by, and lots of lamp posts and CCTV, but no toilets in some long stretches. It’s hard to even do it in the bush, with so many CCTV around, and busybodies ( they have yet to reach the age to understand such problems). The pets have more rights than seniors, only the owners have to pick up the poo, not the pee. Well, I walk daily, whether in Malaysia or in Singapore, and my geographical confine is limited by my knees and bladder problems, though my prostate is normal. I have to readjust and balance my exercises, not excessive, and yet enough to overcome sarcopenia and osteopenia, and the weight, and related heart, lungs illnesses.I walk alone, but some prefer in groups.There are relative pros and cons for each, but in Malaysia, we meet before depart to greet hello and chat,even to strangers and other races. We have toopen our hearts, for another to open theirs. Perhaps people living in big city are more concerned about privacy.

Many of my poetry comes to me during the walk; they come uninvited.

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


Polls on Toilet day, monkeys on mandate;

Money for stretched hands, frustrate may migrate.

Dark clouds loom on sky, flood doom the coastline;

Pacts in packs align, alliance define.

Download color code, all arrive by boats;

Dote on corruption, bloat with excess votes.

Earning short pay debts, ringgit value fall;

Prices rise daily, misery for all.

Ukraine war drags on, hard to compromise;

Stay supreme not wise, vain to realize.

Humans and devils, cross others” border;

Pick up piece of truth, and shout tall order.

Never fair and just, the world we reside;

Dare to face compete, hope and pride confide.


Our National Election will be on 19th November, which is UN Toilet Day, not a good day to chose, but there is fear of fresh flood ravaging the nation and disrupt the economy again. Candidates on both government and opposition parties align themselves in political pacts and form economic and racial packs, rather than multiracial in orientation.

The Ukraine war is more than 8 month, with advent of winter, and no end in sight. Tomorrow is Halloween , and humans and devils cross border, blurring the morals. Someone said satan picked up a piece of paper, and that is the devil’s version of truth, and how the others must follow. US must always be No 1, and the rest must just obey, especially Asians. Another war between US and China would be chaotic for the world, including US and allies.We hope leaders could wake up in time, for co-operation would be more relevant.

The narration was based on the forwarded messages I received in my daily life. The pictures are copied-pasted from the web, to assist understanding. My appreciation to their owners.