Remembering William Yau Zhen Zhong

One moment I was left in the car

Next, they found I was truly gone

To a new world that’s so very far

Sadly making my parents mourn

One moment in my short six years

Took me William forever far away

Bringing to my parents bitter tears

Oh God why why why, they’d say

One moment of so wicked cruelty

Has torn my dearest family apart

Evil struck hard at six-year old me

Like a sharp dagger into my heart

One moment, one honest mistake

Has darkened a once-happy world

Sorrow my parents would partake

With deep anguish in endless twirl

One moment of sorrow, then I'd be

In happier place than where I was

You may keep me in your memory

And help my parents with their loss

Reference: Free Malaysia Today - Mother: Dead boy is my William

The murder of Teoh Beng Hock

I posted Remembering Teoh Beng Hock more than 2 years ago on 06/06/2010 and reproduced below as Part I.

I believe we should not forget his unnecessary and cruel death and the lack of justice for him and his family.

Part II of The Murder of Teoh Beng Hock is immediately after the first part and is presented in more cryptic form.

********

Part I (the Murder)

The next day I was to wed my love

She would have taken up my name

But some said the Immortals above

Like Fate, would play a cruel game

I was called in as a so-called witness

To come up with required evidence

'They' gave me dozen hours of stress

To support their pre-determinations

Oh, didn't I mention my wedding

When friends'd celebrate with me?

Alas, that did not come to being

Why so? Ask that Am-ay cee cee

'They' said I was one who’d loiter

And nap to soothe my sleepy eye

So as to feel fresh to reconnoitre

For a nice spot to takeoff and fly

In 7 months I was to have a baby

How proud I’d be as a new father

Waiting, thanks to Am-ay cee cee,

On the other side of the Styx river

‘They’ now add insults to injury

Claiming I had Triad association

A red herring to deflect query

Of my death and their connection

Just their leitmotif, it's not new

Unbridled power, their slogan

Unaccountability is their cue

Don’t believe me? Ask Kugan

Did you see the tears of my father

And also those of my bride to be

They both seek a simple answer

From a very silent Am-ay cee cee

Part II (The Murderer)

He was the one who hung me just by my belt

In death-defying position outside the window.

Shit happened, belt broke, thus I was dealt

Horrifying death in a plunge towards below.

Act of unforgivable criminality he was guilty,

Murdering me ‘coz of his callous arrogance

Using fabricated pretext of interviewing me.

Denied me basic rights to smash my resistance

Deceitfully absent during police check of DNA

Instructing his prints on window be wiped clean

Nothing in the office of Am-ay-cee-cee to say

He was present there at floor number fourteen

All subterfuge will not my red blood wiped off

Staining his two evil hands that had slain me

His Maker will not permit him excuses to doff

Injustice he committed, & acquitted it shall be

Moved away he has, but we know who he is

Related: I work for the rights of the dead

I work for the rights of the dead

My letter to Malaysiakini titled I work for the rights for the dead published yesterday is dedicated to a brave compassionate professional Dr Pornthip Rojanasunand

********

You see only a very dead man
Just a clammy lifeless corpse
Perhaps decomposing badly
To return home to Mother Nature

But I see in him a devoted son,
A dear brother, loving husband
We’re definitely different, ‘coz
I work for the rights of the dead

You claim he had given all up
Absconding from his life duties
Now lying on a cold marble slab
Body broken up in your eyes

But his scars confides to me
He went not of his own volition
His sad face tells me a story, ‘coz
I work for the rights of the dead
You avoid touching his cold hands
And cringe at the sight of him
A gruesome inconvenience for you
Just another statistic to file away

However I sense a glow still in him
The love of a man, the joyful pride
Of a father to be, I know these ‘coz
I work for the rights of the dead

His opaque glassy eyes terrify you
You look over your shoulders
At midnight you cower in groups
Fearing the ghost from your guilt

I feel his body and he whispers
To me pleas to tell the whole truth
Of his life stolen away, I will ‘coz
I work for the rights of the dead

********

Teoh Beng Hock - killed at MACC Head Office

Remembering Teoh Beng Hock

The next day I was to wed my love
She would have taken up my name
But some said the Immortals above
Like Fate, would play a cruel game

I was called in as a so-called witness
To come up with required evidence
'They' gave me dozen hours of stress
To support their pre-determinations

Oh, didn't I mention my wedding
When friends'd celebrate with me?
Alas, that did not come to being
Why so? Ask that Am-ay cee cee

'They' said I was one who’d loiter
And nap to soothe my sleepy eye
So as to feel fresh to reconnoiter
For a nice spot to takeoff and fly

In 7 months I was to have a baby
How proud I’d be as a new father
Waiting, thanks to Am-ay cee cee,
On the other side of the Styx river

‘They’ now add insults to injury
Claiming I had Triad association
A red herring to deflect query
Of my death and their connection

Just their leitmotif, it's not new
Unbridled power, their slogan
Unaccountability is their cue
Don’t believe me? Ask Kugan

Did you see the tears of my father
And also those of my bride to be
They both seek a simple answer
From a very silent Am-ay cee cee


On 18 July 2009 I posted this in my other blog KTemoc Konsiders as Mysterious death of Teoh Beng Hock - a voice from beyond.

False prophets of Kampung Buah Pala

The court has passed the death sentence
On High Chaparral, the village of Buah Pala
Signalling the final chapter of a resistance
That was further weakened by bull charisma

The villagers mortally wounded long ago
Were ill served by the new false prophets
Misleading the residents from woe to woe
Treating innocent hopefuls as mere puppets

Once where real cow poo fertilize the land
Sheer utter bull now corrupts the pristine air
Confusing the villagers with sleight of hand
By their exploitative braggadocio and dare

Resist, hold fast, give way not a millimeter
From way behind they shouted ferociously
We’re sure to win, but comes September
Those ‘brave’ voices will just be a memory


See Malaysiakini - Federal Court strikes out Buah Pala residents' application

Jeanne d’Arc & Jailani d’Azalina

Jeanne d’Arc, then just 19
Fought for God and country
They burnt her at the stake
T’was a Christian thing to do

Initially disowned, a heretic?
Then heroine, a sweet saint
Ha, a useful name for pollies
To brandish for patriotic votes

She fought for her liege King
but who abandoned the Maid
To those English from beyond
Oh, shameful disloyal royalty

Jailani d’Azalina, at sweet 26
Saw God in a wrong country
Wanna burn her at the stake?
Just the fate for an apostate

Initially embraced, a heroine
A sweet 'saint' of Christianity
Crusaders fought for the Maid
To the last drop of her blood

But she was soon abandoned
Along the path of expediency
Her usefulness now hudud-ised
No more memory of Lina Joy

Related:
(1) Kuala Terengganu - politics & strange bedfellows
(2) Lina Joy - Victim of religion or Votive offering to religion?

Shearing my ruffled hair

She ran her fingers through my hair
Then ruffled them affectionately
But it was my heart that was tousled
My yang and yin in dynamic turmoil
But only for a second or two, sigh,
Caught by such delightful surprise
Awakening in me something strange
That I hadn’t felt for a long long time

But now, such sweetness has gone
No more will I thrill to her soft touch
To be enthralled by the endearment
My hair rendered utterly irrelevant
Should be shorn off like Samson’s
And like the biblical judge, my hope
Enervated, just my karmic outcome
I am all alone as I have once been