The Fall (iv) Perhaps


I laid, with chin on the pavement. Time froze.
My trolley got caught on the handrail.
Had I loaded it wrongly? Was it too fast a turn?

I struggled up and sat on the pavement,
Among scattered backpack and trolley and boxes.
Time froze. A few passers-by.  All hurried on.

I got up. And saw blood stains on the pavement.
Perhaps they were all afraid of blood?




The Fall (iii) Not Alone

2017.10.08 Plastic Cup.JPG

Not alone

No, I have not managed to do it alone.
Apart from God who is always keeping watch,
There is, for example Jack, my brother-in-law.

He let us use his micro-current device for therapy.
Hubby Stephen worked on blue knees and swollen wrists.
For lunch, Jack prepared congee and pumpkin.

Yesterday I had to use a plastic cup.
Today I could hold a porcelain bowl.


The Fall (ii) Self-care

2017.10.08 Muscat


I cleansed the cut in my jaw with soapy water
And dipped it in VCO with dried calendula.
Blue and swollen parts massaged, with VCO and essential oils.
Wiki says most TMDs are self-limiting and don’t get worse.
That takes worries off my slightly dislocated jaw.
My mouth can open wider this morning.
And I just had three black muscat from France.


The Fall (i) Could



My knees could have been bruised but they were only blue.
My wrists could have been broken but they were only swollen.
I could have lost all my teeth but I got only a bloody chin.
My jaws may be aching but I may now get a better occlusion.

Thanks to this mini hankie, the blood was not as scary.
And thanks to this kitchen paper tugged in my back pocket,
The blood was stopped in time for me to trudge to the car park,
With trolley and three empty boxes and a backpack in the big carton.

Thanks to the muscle training I do every night!
I could have broken my neck.




A garden in a punnet
Brought all the way from my garden in Düsseldorf.

Forget-me-Nots. They flourished once last year
Before being eaten up by field mice on the balcony.

Forget-me-Nots. They flourished in Professor Friedrich’s garten.
When Frau Friedrich gave me seeds in the nineties.

Forget-me-Nots. They flourished in my garden all these years.
And they did well when they arrived in late July.

Forget-me-Nots.  They did well in August until that downpour.
All drown. But wait. Not all.


By Daniel Tam


Deep into the night, the Underground, packed as rush hours
Yet no unease, no anguish: yellow ribbon on us all.


Mong Kok: now the most romantic spot in the Universe.
Argyle Street, Nathan Road, my daily passage as a teen.
Who would ever have dreamt of seeing a canopy put up,
To shelter earth-dwellers from rain and wind?


Exalting! Some have summited the MTR entrance!
Having viewed folk-scape from high! Hard to descend?


Roads are now in people’s hands, buses too,
With sharp slogans, garnished with humour and not with fire.


Freedom and vitality, accommodating and self-restraint,
Patience & Wisdom reign. Challenging streets, minus policemen.
With care and caution we embrace this fleeting enchantment.


You dear friends who have savoured this fresh air here know:
Outcomes matter but little. For we have all changed,
And for our city’s future, we have now opened a door!


Let’s not be over-optimistic about the future,
But let’s trust this determination, in one and in all,
This will to do a little something, for ourselves, and for more.


Cool-headed steps, strong-hearted steps …
Little by little, step by step …

See you in the streets.

Tam Daniel


Fanny-Min Becker  2 October 2014 at 14:12 · 

ROMANCE: the last for the Movement perhaps, but not the last.

A poem by Tam Daniel
Caught in the internet & rendered into English on
October 2014 at 14:12 by




by Lilly Mee Wu in Toronto

Lament of an M.D. Sufferer

2009.06.07 Lament

There is no cure.
Macular degeneration
Comparable to suffocation,
Eyes to injure.

No line is straight.
On all horizontals, no less,
Descend a crazy waviness.
Accept your fate!

What next, you ask.
Retinal detachment, follow!
Treated, on your face you lie low.
Not a mean task.

And comes a hole.
In the centre of a pink wreath,
Emptiness beyond and beneath.
Naught to console.

What else to see?
Gold rimmed blue blooms in a posy;
Dingy pavings green and mossy.
The flicks are free.

Don’t understand.
Out swims a line, a message,
To read it you can’t manage.
No code at hand.

Pressure is high.
A blue intensity appears,
Beauty to allay your fears.
Headaches sail by.

A gloaming fell.
Could be lucent as a spring dawn;
Or a typhoon’s charcoal screen drawn.
Cannot foretell.

Meteors explode into star dust;
Rockets burst in flashing combust.
Injected silicon:
Kind of Gorgon?

Laser brings a perpetual glare
And a dazzling whiteness most rare.
Extreme brightness
Makes for tiredness.

Bestir yourself! Your doctors warn.
Like an eight-year-old you must learn.
Fail to use it.
Then you lose it!

You yourself teach
How things to reach.
Buy magnifiers to aid reading;
But daily deeds need new meaning.

Health is a mission.
Strange how bowels can affect sight.
Or an aching leg be a blight
On your vision.

Exercise till
The soles know the ground they walk on,
Fingers know what they light upon.
Live to the full.

You are not blind.
The smells and sounds identify.
Who and what they do clarify.
All in the mind.

Fate is accepted.
In waking moments, day and night,
Keen light or dim glow, is your sight
Smaze blanketed.

Composed by Lilly Mee Wu
Toronto 20-29.04.2009

Typed by FM
Posted on facebook on 2009.06.07 at 00:51


Lilly was my class teacher from 1960 to 1962
Ever so encouraging
Ever so trusting
She helped me to find myself
Without her
There would not be the today me
My teacher for Life


Have you ever met a teacher for Life?
Would you wish for such a teacher?
Are you a teacher for Life yourself?
Can we all be teachers for Life?

Click CONTACT and drop me a line or two or three …