The Old French Window

My bedroom upstairs has a window,
It gives me a view of town.
And I can see the street below,
As I stand there looking down.

An old French window it's always been,
Reaching to the floor.
Its panes and frame are painted green,
To match the bedroom door,

Each morning I will draw the curtains,
And swing the green panes out.
Of what will greet me, I am certain,
As I hear loud voices shout.

The long and narrow street below,
Has become a noisy market.
People wandering to and fro,
With money in their pockets.

Hawkers call, and peddlers shout,
To visitors in their sight.
"Come and buy!" rings through the crowd,
They call with all their might.

Vegetable stalls full of leafy greens,
And spicy chillis red.
"Fresh and cheap!" you're almost convinced,
By words so earnestly said.

Fish mongers further down the street,
With the butcher at the entrance,
"Chop, Chop, Chop!" the cleaver meets,
The chopping board with a vengeance.

As morning gives way for noon day sun,
To take its rightful place.
The stalls are closed down one by one,
And go their separate ways.

My old French window is alone again,
Deserted by the crowd,
Its sturdy frame, and creaky panes,
Hang silently, staring out.

The Old French Window.
By Harold B Huang,
Friday 2021.04.30 18:09 hrs
GMT+8
#poetry #poetrybyharold
#poetryprompt
#poetrywritingmonth

Questions in Life

What is our iife?

Life is made of food we eat,
Of fine clothes on the body.
A shelter over our heads we need,
A home that's neat and tidy.

Where is life's journey?

Some go over many mountains tall,
And sail the seven seas,
Others do not venture out at all,
They live in quiet and peace.

Some wander to the ends of the earth,
In search of a tastier morsel,
A finer robe on them to gird,
A mansion in which to nestle.

When is the end?

We desist not from storing up treasure,
From our seeking and frantic searching,
For finer, fuller, and bigger pleasures,
Our pursuit is never ending.

Why do we strive so?

We look within, and see a fire,
That we must constantly feed.
Our insatiable wants, our burning desires,
Have eclipsed our basic needs.

The love of possessions, of pleasure and power,
Has displaced the love for mankind,
We live high up in our opulent tower,
We have not the poor in mind.

How shall we live?

Let us turn from all our endless getting,
To a life of generous giving.
Let us turn from all our greedy seeking,
To relieve the poor and grieving.

Questions in Life
By Harolde Huang
Thursday 2021.04.29 13:32 hrs
GMT+8
#poetry #poetrybyharolde

Wind of death

The Wind of death, it is blowing in,
Across the lands, over the seas.
It stretches its wings, an eagle unseen,
From its sharp talons, none can flee.

It may arrive a gentle breeze,
Softly caressing the shoulders of some.
On other days it makes many freeze,
A cold wintry gust it has become.

Suddenly it rises, a ferocious tempest,
Rushing recklessly, a deafening roar.
It tramples on all from east to west,
Dragging many towards death's door.

Each day we're kept at the edge of our seats,
As the news is announced, our anxiety builds.
We're told of victims, whom this wind beats,
Of whom it injures, of whom it kills.

Some left unscathed by the soft and gentle breeze,
Others survive the gust, struggling and weak.
Some have succumbed in deep tempestuous seas,
Swept away into darkness: bitter, barren, and bleak.

Winds of death.
By Harolde Huang
Wednesday 2021.04.28 15:55 hrs
GMT+8
#poetry #poetrybyharolde #pandemic #covid19

Mind your mind

As I was getting ready to go to work,
A nagging thought came to mind.

Each morning, when a new day begins,
There are tasks to keep in mind.

Out in the city, driving to wor,k
On the busy traffic you set your mind.

Sometimes you arrive at Office late,
Your boss gives you a piece of his mind.

And when the boss makes foolish decisions,
You're almost compelled to speak your mind.

However, to avoid seeing him fly
Into a rage and lose his mind,

You decide to keep quiet and remain still,
For wisdom tells you to change your mind.

Win an argument and lose your job?
In such situations you must make up your mind.

Or lose to a fool and keep your job,
In this matter you can't be in two minds.

At times, you seem meek and timid to others,
They don't know what goes on at the back of your mind.

You have learnt to bear with petty people,
And often tell yourself, "Never mind".

After years of working with both wise and foolish,
The experience broadens your mind.

At the end of the day, you look back and see,
The best thing to do is, "Mind your mind."

Mind your mind.
By Harolde Huang,
Tuesday 2021.04.27 15:27 hrs
GMT+8
#poetry #poetrybyharolde

A Silent Letter

A heartfelt letter I write to you
To tell of things that you should know
Secret thoughts I reveal to you
Hidden feelings I wish to show

Not like any letter I have ever sent
Nor any you have ever received
This letter is not inscribed by pen
Nor by ink its words conceived

In its envelope a blank page sits
Filled with empty lines within
Not a single sentence appears in it
Nor can any paragraph be seen

Within your soul will you uncover
Its contents not revealed on paper
A letter of silence to ponder over
It speaks to you in a muffled whisper

For in it are profound thoughts unspoken
And deep feelings never expressed
I send to you this letter, still and silent
To tell you my secrets, so my heart may rest.

A Silent Letter
By Harolde Huang
Monday 2021.04.26 21:11 hrs
GMT+8
#poetry #poetrybyharolde

A Poet is made

When on the thinker dawns a thought,
Like the rising sun at break of day,
The darkness of night is set at naught,
And dimness of sight is swept away.

A poet is made.

When epiphany engulfs the soul,
And great awakening the mind enlightens,
When rhythm and rhyme begins to roll
And by measured words the world brightens

A poet is made.

A poet is made when thoughts assail
The thinker's heart and mind
And turns a dream into a world so real
With words that few can find.

A Poet is made.
By Harolde Huang,
Sunday, 2021.04.25 2224 hrs GMT+8
#poetrybyharolde #poetry

Pandemic: between Earth and non-Earth peoples

I was just telling family members the other day, when the lockdown began last year, enforcement officers were highly biased. Most of the time, our non-Earth shops, hawker stalls, business premises and individuals were the ones getting raided, checked, and fined.

In my in-laws home town, a few restaurant workers were fined for not wearing masks while washing dishes in the kitchen AFTER the shop has closed for the day!

As a result of such biased and racist enforcement, most of us non-Earth people adopted a highly cautious stance, taking every possible precaution against anything that the Earth officials can find fault with.

For example, in my town, Chinese Clan Associations even refused to open the cemeteries for the recent Cheng Beng grave-cleaning festival, to avoid getting heavily fined for any small excuse .

This proved to be a blessing in disguise, as we non-Earth people are largely shielded from the virus by our cautious behaviour.