[Submitted by simplelyfe on July 12, 2007, 6:54 pm]
The second hand of the old wooden clock
Trudged to the next digit; its next stop
By now, the stench of revenge hanged high in the air
And the pungent smell of blood now, everywhere
Chin-na! Chin-na!
They hollered as they raided flats,
They were armed with swords and bayonets,
All Chinese, the young, the sick
Even the “Amah” across the street
Herded like cattle along Hill Street.
Oblivious and befuddled they were,
And their faces, white with fear,
As the battle for their life drew near.
A “purification” they say
That wasn’t pure in any way
Extermination of all anti-japanese: a MUST
But the verdict: UNJUST
It would be a bliss to be missed
And be given the chop of life
Without it, you might have to die
Those assumed to be anti-Japanese
Were taken away in trucks,
To Changi Beach and Pulau Blakang Mati
Where the bell for the massacre struck
They stood in a line by the shore
Praying for mercy, nothing more
Bang! The machine guns were shot
And face down in to the waters they fell
Where their blood never clots
But flows deep into the sea bed
Turning the blue sea to red
With the patriotic hurricanes in my heart still stirring.
I joined the British as an undercover agent
Involved in espionage, sabotage and subversion
I smuggled secret documents to Malaya
Through checkpoints set up by Japanese troops
I had to be someone I’m not
Hiding my emotions to protect myself
Just like pretending to feel cold when your’re hot.
I had to be responsive and alert
God help me if I am slow in doing so.
Save me so I can help save Syonanto.
March 26, 1944
I was captured by the Japs
And so vividly I recall,
The dreading two-hour-long torment
The pain, I knew I had to withstand
To protect my comrades, my friends
With their hands, legs and wooden sticks
I was slapped, whipped, punched and kicked
“I know nothing!” I maintained my stand
I was determined to fight till the end
Beat me and bash me till I die
I’ll still cling on to this lie.
As I know the truth told or untold
Being captured meant only death.
I ate rotten sweet potato
Given three or four a day
Slept in a cell so small
Where I lived through every day
A lonely barred window sat
Among filthy, blood stained walls
A plank bed to rest my back
And a bucket, my toilet bowl
When the Japanese surrendered
I returned home victoriously
Only to be greeted with a calamity;
The lost of my only family
My mum and my brother were killed in their hands
The notorious Japanese clan
What they did ruined our life
Many of our loved ones died
I’m glad I dun have to read the syonan-shimbun again
or walk in streets where dicapidated heads stand
or see people bow to the japs
or thrown on the streets like dolls made of rags.
For now we’ve plant our very own flag
This poem is about a POW of Singapore during WW2..... Cheers to HISTORY!
Chin-na! Chin-na!
A “purification” they say
Those assumed to be anti-Japanese
With the patriotic hurricanes in my heart still stirring.
March 26, 1944
I ate rotten sweet potato
When the Japanese surrendered
This poem is about a POW of Singapore during WW2..... Cheers to HISTORY!