Wednesday, December 24, 2008
說話的藝術
少說抱怨的話，多說寬容的話；
抱怨帶來記恨，寬容乃是智慧。
少說諷刺的話，多說尊重的話；
諷刺顯得輕視，尊重曾加了解。
少說傷害的話，多說關懷的話；
傷害形成對立，關懷獲得友誼。
少說命令的話，多說商量的話；
命令只是接受，商量才是領導。
少說批評的話，多說鼓勵的話；
批評造成隔閡，鼓勵激發潛能。
莫生氣
人生就像一場戲，因為有緣才相聚。
相扶到老不容易，是否更該去珍惜。
為了小事發脾氣，回頭想想又何必。
別人生氣我不氣，氣出病來無人替。
我若氣死誰如意，況且傷神又費力。
鄰居親朋不要比，兒孫瑣事由他去。
吃苦享樂在一起，神仙羨慕好伴侶。
相扶到老不容易，是否更該去珍惜。
為了小事發脾氣，回頭想想又何必。
別人生氣我不氣，氣出病來無人替。
我若氣死誰如意，況且傷神又費力。
鄰居親朋不要比，兒孫瑣事由他去。
吃苦享樂在一起，神仙羨慕好伴侶。
Between You & I
Flatter me, and I may not believe you.
Criticize me, and I may not like you.
Ignore me, and I may not forgive you.
Encourage me, and I will not forget you.
Love me and I may be forced to love you.
- William Arthur Ward
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Winds of Change
The Pessimist complains about the wind;
The Optimist expects it to change;
The Realist adjusts the sails.
- William Arthur Ward
The Xtra Step
Do more than belong: participate.
Do more than care: help.
Do more than believe: practice.
Do more than be fair: be kind.
Do more than forgive: forget.
Do more than dream: work.
- William Arthur Ward
Before & After
Before you speak, listen.
Before you write, think.
Before you spend, earn.
Before you invest, investigate.
Before you criticize, wait.
Before you pray, forgive.
Before you quit, try.
Before you retire, save.
Before you die, give
- William Arthur Ward
Before you write, think.
Before you spend, earn.
Before you invest, investigate.
Before you criticize, wait.
Before you pray, forgive.
Before you quit, try.
Before you retire, save.
Before you die, give
- William Arthur Ward
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
A matter of Perspective
In this world,
there's Time U can't stop,
Destiny U can't control,
Luck U can't depend on.
Or so they say.
How much does it take?
To not race against Time but capture the right moment,
not fight one's Destiny but fulfill it,
not seek out Luck but challenge it.
Not much actually.
Just a dose of wisdom,
a tinge of positivity,
and a touch of rebellion.
How about a stroke of Luck?
Well, can't hurt, can it?
there's Time U can't stop,
Destiny U can't control,
Luck U can't depend on.
Or so they say.
How much does it take?
To not race against Time but capture the right moment,
not fight one's Destiny but fulfill it,
not seek out Luck but challenge it.
Not much actually.
Just a dose of wisdom,
a tinge of positivity,
and a touch of rebellion.
How about a stroke of Luck?
Well, can't hurt, can it?
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Difference between (Some) People, (Most) Children, and (All) Lions
(All) Lions know they're lions. They know they can't fly, they're afraid of the water, and they hate vegetables.
(Most) Children don't know who they are, but they know what they want to be.
(Some) People think they know who they are, what they can never be, but actually know more of others and less of themselves.
(All) Lions don't know how to pretend, they can only be themselves.
(Most) Children learn to pretend, but only when Simon says, "pretend".
(Some) People pretend all too often and all too well.
(All) Lions are realistic, and accept the truth.
(Most) Children know neither, but they like to ask questions.
(Some) People like to live in fantasies, hate to admit the truth, and think they're too old to ask questions.
(All) Lions earn respect from each other.
(Most) Children learn to respect and follow their leader.
(Some) People demand respect and don't give it back.
(All) Lions are part of nature.
(Most) Children are curious about nature.
(Some) People think they can live without it.
(All) Lions live to eat.
(Most) Children eat to live.
(Some) People don't know what they're eating, nor living for.
(All) Lions remember pain and avoid it.
(Most) Children learn about pain and choose either to forget, or don't.
(Some) People live with pain all the time but they cover it up.
(All) Lions communicate with their body language.
(Most) Children communicate with their own dynamic language.
(Some) People miscommunicate with too much redundant language.
(All) Lions are at peace with themselves.
(Most) Children are either happy or sad.
(Some) People are just confused.
(Most) Children don't know who they are, but they know what they want to be.
(Some) People think they know who they are, what they can never be, but actually know more of others and less of themselves.
(All) Lions don't know how to pretend, they can only be themselves.
(Most) Children learn to pretend, but only when Simon says, "pretend".
(Some) People pretend all too often and all too well.
(All) Lions are realistic, and accept the truth.
(Most) Children know neither, but they like to ask questions.
(Some) People like to live in fantasies, hate to admit the truth, and think they're too old to ask questions.
(All) Lions earn respect from each other.
(Most) Children learn to respect and follow their leader.
(Some) People demand respect and don't give it back.
(All) Lions are part of nature.
(Most) Children are curious about nature.
(Some) People think they can live without it.
(All) Lions live to eat.
(Most) Children eat to live.
(Some) People don't know what they're eating, nor living for.
(All) Lions remember pain and avoid it.
(Most) Children learn about pain and choose either to forget, or don't.
(Some) People live with pain all the time but they cover it up.
(All) Lions communicate with their body language.
(Most) Children communicate with their own dynamic language.
(Some) People miscommunicate with too much redundant language.
(All) Lions are at peace with themselves.
(Most) Children are either happy or sad.
(Some) People are just confused.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Too Caught Up with the World
Too caught up with the World...
What's our World?
Listen.
I hear the sound of water gushing down the pipe,
I hear the cranes crank at the construction site,
I hear traffic speeding on the highway,
and the old mantle clock tick-tocking away...
But in between these moments,
Listen.
There's a sound of silence,
a silence from within;
And Time stands to a still,
And you start to feel,
All is an Illusion.
Nothing else matters,
but the thumping of a heart.
That, in our World,
is the truest sound to be heard.
aug07
What's our World?
Listen.
I hear the sound of water gushing down the pipe,
I hear the cranes crank at the construction site,
I hear traffic speeding on the highway,
and the old mantle clock tick-tocking away...
But in between these moments,
Listen.
There's a sound of silence,
a silence from within;
And Time stands to a still,
And you start to feel,
All is an Illusion.
Nothing else matters,
but the thumping of a heart.
That, in our World,
is the truest sound to be heard.
aug07
Friday, May 11, 2007
A 16 yr old's Tribute to the Days...
A Tribute to the Days
Please remember,
When land was rich and trees stood tall.
The plot of arid desert was very small,
Until farmers came and set the place burning;
Then left the forest creatures yearning.
Please remember,
When we could enjoy a clean, fresh breeze
Not mingling with soot or soaked with grease.
In those days there was no need to go high places,
Just to find somewhere devoid of hazes.
Please remember,
When the color of water reflected the sky,
Never too murky or loaded with dye.
We needn’t worry about the fury of fish
Stained with mercury on our dish.
Please remember,
When we hadn’t possessed any greed,
And never took what we didn’t need.
We hadn’t yet created the hunting gun,
Just so we could have a little fun.
Please remember,
What we have sold
To Hell’s creator:
The Days of old.
Please remember,
When land was rich and trees stood tall.
The plot of arid desert was very small,
Until farmers came and set the place burning;
Then left the forest creatures yearning.
Please remember,
When we could enjoy a clean, fresh breeze
Not mingling with soot or soaked with grease.
In those days there was no need to go high places,
Just to find somewhere devoid of hazes.
Please remember,
When the color of water reflected the sky,
Never too murky or loaded with dye.
We needn’t worry about the fury of fish
Stained with mercury on our dish.
Please remember,
When we hadn’t possessed any greed,
And never took what we didn’t need.
We hadn’t yet created the hunting gun,
Just so we could have a little fun.
Please remember,
What we have sold
To Hell’s creator:
The Days of old.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
CHOICE
CHOICE
A swirl of sand danced, with the rising wind,
In the blazing dusk, a brutal chill sets in.
Two bony, scorched feet paused in mid-walk,
Same lifeless eyes, to the ground they were locked.
A baby’s whimper erupted from below,
Gnawing Her dead skin and Her even blacker soul.
Time stood still, but finally She bends…
In Her arms She now carries a new weight,
Away from survival, and into the arms of Fate.
nov06
A swirl of sand danced, with the rising wind,
In the blazing dusk, a brutal chill sets in.
Two bony, scorched feet paused in mid-walk,
Same lifeless eyes, to the ground they were locked.
A baby’s whimper erupted from below,
Gnawing Her dead skin and Her even blacker soul.
Time stood still, but finally She bends…
In Her arms She now carries a new weight,
Away from survival, and into the arms of Fate.
nov06
MUM
MUM
I see Mother as a Kaleidoscope;
An inner beauty of spirit & hope.
Through its lens, we savour the colours of life,
Even in darkness, or in strife;
Through Her eyes, we see Humanity,
Her love to us, is Eternity.
A treasure thus, Mother is.
nov06
I see Mother as a Kaleidoscope;
An inner beauty of spirit & hope.
Through its lens, we savour the colours of life,
Even in darkness, or in strife;
Through Her eyes, we see Humanity,
Her love to us, is Eternity.
A treasure thus, Mother is.
nov06
THE BLINDED GIRL
THE BLINDED GIRL
The blinded girl,
In a world of darkness, a world alone,
Has a tremendous yearning from within;
To walk, jump and run on her very two feet,
With naught anyone’s help nor paying heed.
To travel far and wide across the land,
Drink in the sights made by nature and man;
Should these sights at times be dark and unpleasant,
She’ll learn in time, it’s all part of the lesson.
And when she’s tired she can find her way home,
A journey so familiar, she can even do it ‘eyes - closed’.
But alas, someone must help her first and train her to be strong,
For she ain’t capable of them yet, not on her own.
“Someone, anyone, be my guiding light please,
I’ll give you my hand, I’ll follow you along,
And try to recall every step of the way,
Every right and wrong.”
“ Should you ever decide to let go however,
Please give me a little more time,
For I may still stumble, not seeing the loophole in time.”
So she continues with her nightly prayers,
'Til someday perhaps, they may be answered.
But don’t you see, blinded little girl,
That there’s but one thing you really need do:
To untie the knots, the knots that hold,
The binding cloth, right in front of you…
feb05
The blinded girl,
In a world of darkness, a world alone,
Has a tremendous yearning from within;
To walk, jump and run on her very two feet,
With naught anyone’s help nor paying heed.
To travel far and wide across the land,
Drink in the sights made by nature and man;
Should these sights at times be dark and unpleasant,
She’ll learn in time, it’s all part of the lesson.
And when she’s tired she can find her way home,
A journey so familiar, she can even do it ‘eyes - closed’.
But alas, someone must help her first and train her to be strong,
For she ain’t capable of them yet, not on her own.
“Someone, anyone, be my guiding light please,
I’ll give you my hand, I’ll follow you along,
And try to recall every step of the way,
Every right and wrong.”
“ Should you ever decide to let go however,
Please give me a little more time,
For I may still stumble, not seeing the loophole in time.”
So she continues with her nightly prayers,
'Til someday perhaps, they may be answered.
But don’t you see, blinded little girl,
That there’s but one thing you really need do:
To untie the knots, the knots that hold,
The binding cloth, right in front of you…
feb05
In a Spur of the Moment...
I've decided to create a repertoire of poems.
Poems penned by non-poets,
Poems of intuition & dreams,
Poems of honesty & wisdom,
Poems as stories weaved...
In a spur of the moment!
(I do wish for your contributions, so if you have one of those moments, write in!)
ming
ps. This blog embraces all culture, race, gender, religion and nationality
Poems penned by non-poets,
Poems of intuition & dreams,
Poems of honesty & wisdom,
Poems as stories weaved...
In a spur of the moment!
(I do wish for your contributions, so if you have one of those moments, write in!)
ming
ps. This blog embraces all culture, race, gender, religion and nationality
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