convenience

Today I have my Form 1 class and I taught them about adjectives to describe their fathers physically and also the personalities. So I asked them to find the adjectives from the newspapers and cut them out... later on, they have to create a poem for fathers and use the cut out words. A couple of students cut out the word "convenience". Then they asked me how to use the word "convenience" in their poem. I was like spontaneously "hmmm ok how about this: my father is convenience just like the ATM every time I ask for some money he will give me some..." They giggled. Funny aye? What do you think? :-)

twelve songs

stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone
silence the pianos and with muffled drum
bring out the coffin let the mourners come

let aeroplane circle moaning overhead
scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'
put the crepe bow around the white neck of public doves
let traffic policemen wear black, cotton gloves

He was my North, my South, my East and West
My working week, my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.

the stars are not wanted now, put out everyone
pack up the moon, dismantle the sun
pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood
for nothing now can ever come to any good..

i watched four weddings and a funeral a few days ago and i was reminded of fred. may he rest in peace. Amen

What my father doesn't know

My father is not tall,

Nor dashingly handsome,

Not the knight in shining armour

And I doubt the suit would fit him well.

Plus, he'd look ridiculous in it,

on a horse.

My father does not sing like Tom Jones,

nor dance like Fred Astaire,

though on many occasions

when we were young and noisy

he would do his best impression

of The Beatles.

My father doesn't own a computer.

He doesn't even know how to turn it on,

and forever wonders how the Internet works,

what chatting is all about,

why does a Book has a Face,

or is it a BLOG, or a BLOCK?

My father knows what an APPLE is.

How hard can it be?

It's either green or red!

Oh, he knows what WINDOWS are.

They are of many shapes and sizes.

Who am I kidding?

My father owns a handphone.

He's not that ancient!

When the phone beeps of messages,

he does nothing,

'cos he can't retrieve it,

'cos he doesn't know how.

But my father would be worried sick,

if any of us fell sick.

My father would endure the sleepless nights,

anticipating how we'd do in the exams.

And then more sleepless nights,

pacing every square metre of the house,

when the results were due.

My father is not my friend,

he deserves better than that.

He has never failed me, nor the rest of us

He is THE Father that we have,

that no other can have.

I now understand,

why he was sometimes such a pain,

he was only being a FATHER.

any of you remember this?

Sonnet 43 from Sonnets from the Portuguese

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- Elizabeth Browning

i revisited certain memories from this sonnet after reading Paolo Coelho's entry today. Hope that you enjoy it...and his blog as well.