A Silver Bar Tears Up the Paper poem

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(Letrilla-style poem)

<<Story related to the poem>>

Dirty money, happy money,
Corrupt officials live with glee!
Australia sure has justice,
To bring fairness to the people,
To make the criminals dwindle,
And the nation profitable.
Corruption can’t be norm basis!
Yet the Communists are comfy;
Dirty money, happy money,
Corrupt officials live with glee!

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Harder than Acting

They're the sand embedded in my shoes that wear me out, and yet all I can do is grit my teeth and smile.

They’re the sand embedded in my shoes that wear me out, and yet all I can do is grit my teeth and smile.

Comments about this post on ABC Open 500 words – Faking it.

It is easier to act in a play than fake liking ‘them’! To me acting is genuinely living as the character, thinking and reacting as if I was them. When my facial muscles want to contract, my hands shake and my heart beats faster and louder, I find it is actually harder to betray my body, my feelings and put on a happy face in front of ‘them’.

I often wonder, “Why did you have to marry into my circle, so for the group’s sake, I have to keep the relationships in harmony?” Then I remember the time my father was incarcerated in the torturous communist jail, the maltreatment the Communist gave my family and my deadly escape from Vietnam.

Passing through the threshold of the door, I felt relieved that I had held my façade, successfully giving a strong handshake and a warm smile to ‘him’. He migrated here under the sponsorship of his sister. But wait there’s more!

The search for an interpreter’s related information

George Miller - US Democrats Congressman - in Malaysia greeting children at a Vietnamese refugee camp.

George Miller – US Democrats Congressman – in Malaysia greeting children at a Vietnamese refugee camp.

<<Story related to the information>>

Monsoon fury - image credit Thejas Panarkandy

Monsoon fury – image credit Thejas Panarkandy

Monsoon - image credit 5particle.

Monsoon – image credit 5particle.

22 Jun 1979, Kuantan Beach, Malaysia: Refugees aboard beached boat from Vietnam. - Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

22 Jun 1979, Kuantan Beach, Malaysia: Refugees aboard beached boat from Vietnam. – Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

Pulau Bidong island.

Pulau Bidong island.

Refugees transported to Pulau Bidong island walking on the jetty.

Refugees transported to Pulau Bidong island walking on the jetty.

Refugees having picture taken for ID.

Refugees having picture taken for ID.

But wait there’s more!

His sordid truth

I was promised to him and got married when I was seven back in Vietnam. He was pensive and moral but has changed since arriving in Australia.

I was promised to him and got married when I was seven back in Vietnam. He was pensive and moral but has changed since arriving in Australia.

Comments about this post on ABC Open 500 words – Heartbreak!

I was promised to him before I was born. Back in Vietnam when I was seven, dressed in a long, loose, blue-grey robe, I was guided to make pledges to obey his family’s rules and live a good, model life. At the end of the ceremony to accept me into his family, I was given the Buddhist name ‘Diệu Hiền’ , which meant gentle and meek.

I fell in love with him for I was attracted to him by his pensive and moral characteristics. On full moons, he would invite me over and cook delicious vegetarian meals for me. The smell of sandalwood incense, the smile of the Buddha statue looking down at us, the chanting of Buddhist prayers, the echo of the Buddhist bell, these things filled the air with solemn yet romantic feelings.

At the threshold between the old and new year, when the clock stroked at midnight and the firecrackers exploded noisily in trains, I stood with him among the mass of people. Looking up into the sky of the thick dark night, we prayed to Buddha for a new prosperous, healthy and happy new year. But wait there’s more!

His sordid truth poem

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(Epistle-style poem)

<<Story related to the poem>>

Dear Temple,

I had loved you with my virgin heart.
Love at first sight, when I was seven.
I dreamt that we’d never be apart,
‘Cause we were a match made in heaven.

I loved your pensive and moral sides,
I vowed that I’d be a good Buddhist,
Your teachings gave me the strong life guides,
To love and become an altruist.

In Australia, you make me ashamed
You break the rules, you break your vow,
You turn money-skilful to be famed,
You want to be bigger than you’re now!

I don’t want to see you anymore!
‘Cause I have disowned you forever.
I don’t love you like I did before,
And I don’t see you in my future!

Respectfully yours,

hiMe.

Image credit
by tommy Japan.

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From bad to worse

I had made a bad decision and jumped from the frying pan into the fire!

I had made a bad decision and jumped from the frying pan into the fire!

Comments about this point on ABC Open 500 words – On the job.

I could have been jailed if I didn’t do my work right! The thought of going to jail swung me into action to seek another job, but I’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire!

My old workplace introduced an imported ‘Let-jail-us’ procedure to help maintaining and upgrading the computer systems we had built over the years. With the ‘technique’, computer programmers were paired up to check on the quality of each other’s work, transfer knowledge and make plan together for the next round of maintenance. The pairings were supposed to change frequently to avoid expertise lying stagnant in particular areas. The approach was what developers deemed ideal even if the work would take longer. In reality, developers hardly had time to transfer knowledge or plan their work with others. One horrified setback of the ‘modus operandi’ was that any problem we caused the company due to our faulty work could potentially result in the prosecution and jailing of the pair! But wait there’s more!

Dark Red shadows

I came to Australia to escape the communist hell, but many knew that some of those demons made the journey too.

I came to Australia to escape the communist hell, but many knew that some of those demons made the journey too.

Comments about this post on ABC Open 500 words – How I came here.

After the Fall of Saigon, my father was ill-treated in communist hard-labour camps, where many of his colleagues died, because he was a Signal Corps Lieutenant Colonel. Many former military officers’ houses were forfeited, and their families were forced to relocate to the new economic zones.

The local government told Mum they wanted to take two storeys of our four-storey house and turn it into an administration office. Mum realised that their next step would be stripping us of our house completely and forcing us to move. At the time Mum had approximately 7kg of gold – earned from years working as children’s wear producer/wholesaler – stockpiled and hidden, so she took some and bribed the local officials to leave our house alone. Then, together with her sister, Mum opened a ‘co-operative clothing factory’ at our house. Regardless, the fear of losing the house never left our minds. But wait there’s more!

After the ordination poem

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(Quatern-style poem)

<<Story related to the poem>>

When sin visits the man of God,
Layman disguise would get a nod,
Whether it’s during day or night,
Whether it’s in or out of sight,

In places that ain’t thought as odd,
When sin visits the man of God,
He blithely leads a double life,
In it, criminal acts are rife. But wait there’s more!