The natives have
(since the seventh month peeped
through the lean crescent eye of the moon)
worn cloaks of festivities.
They dance the rites,
squelching proudly in mud and green pools
of water.
On their heads are smouldering fires of corns
And pears, and ingredients of a lush season.
Behold their mothers’ breasts!
Flopping tonelessly with life and ceremonial milk.
The engaging flesh of birth.
And their fathers’ ribs —bare and fractured—
Like splinters from bamboos of white; strong bows of
A fragmented hunting group.
Their daughters dance with frenzied gaits,
Insisting on frantic melodies.
Drums throb on with the vim of restlessness.
Flutes hasten with the speed of departing tunes.
Ogele* sounds with the rhythm of fraternal bliss . . . .
The village sons bend their torsos in tremulous dance steps,
reluming low-burning
ancestral fires.
Breathe in now the image of a raging ceremony,
Symbols of a rite,
which hang on the rafters of a community,
this seventh month of the yam calendar.
*Metal gong
The natives have
(since the seventh month peeped
through the lean crescent eye of the moon)
worn cloaks of festivities.
They dance the rites,
squelching proudly in mud and green pools
of water.
On their heads are smouldering fires of corns
And pears, and ingredients of a lush season.
Behold their mothers’ breasts!
Flopping tonelessly with life and ceremonial milk.
The engaging flesh of birth.
And their fathers’ ribs —bare and fractured—
Like splinters from bamboos of white; strong bows of
A fragmented hunting group.
Their daughters dance with frenzied gaits,
Insisting on frantic melodies.
Drums throb on with the vim of restlessness.
Flutes hasten with the speed of departing tunes.
Ogele* sounds with the rhythm of fraternal bliss . . . .
The village sons bend their torsos in tremulous dance steps,
reluming low-burning
ancestral fires.
Breathe in now the image of a raging ceremony,
Symbols of a rite,
which hang on the rafters of a community,
this seventh month of the yam calendar.
*Metal gong
( )
/ | \
* / * | \
|| ^ * // ^ //^ /* dews on dainty stalks
* ||^* //^ *// / ^ soft strips of morning sunlight~
\ ||°^ //^// * * green fingers strum chimes
\ ||° //^//^// /*
^ ^\ // // // /^
WwWwWwW
Help plant bamboos
It's needful for handicrafts
Human beings would not
Have progress without this grass
Handcraft is cost as old art it's lost
Basket making is a way of life
As weaving is an old way of living
Help propagate the art of handcraft
Help artisans restore the beauty
Of handcraft creativity which handed
Down from our ancient to modern craftsmen.
What a ravishing garden!
Tiny insects, flying birds,
There are reptiles too.
Life's best time going on.
Eucalyptus, teaks, neems,
Bamboos, cactus, roses.
Eyes gets coolness after—
Seeing all the greeneries.
Life is going like snail here,
Slowly slowly and calmly.
Life is going like monkeys,
Run, fun, jump, and eat.
Away from dust and dirt,
I'm enjoying the time of dusk.
No worries, only friends,
Life's best time going on!
Bamboos are awesome
It bend when the wind smites
Such clever wisdom.
Where are they? I asked him at the door.
My voice cracked, was a bit of a whisper.
I had never seen pandas in bamboos before.
Look up, said the farmer, a tiny mister.
There were three of them, and they were sweet.
What do they eat? I asked. What do they eat?
Why do you think they are up in the bamboo? He asked me.
I had no idea, but I sure wanted to see….
Anji County of China is the town of bamboo
Visitors arrive in cars, more than a few.
Cooks could add some stems to their tasty stew
But giant panda consumes most shoots and stems of bamboo
Bamboo borers are a delicacy, tasty and sweet
Caterpillar to you, but don’t try to count his feet
We found six in the canebrakes yesterday said the cook.
It is best to consume this dish without a real close look.
Japanese giant timber bamboos grow faster than these
One grew forty-seven inches in twenty-four hours. Oh, please!
Bamboo paintings and woodworking is a pleasure to see.
Please look away from the table for a second; stop looking at me.
breeze with green leaves compose new melodies
wild bamboos play fluent flute ---
ballet dance of flowers
Bluebells painted sky canopy curls furls
lily white clouds form world maps ---
sun feels shy of shining
birds and beasts play around in merriment
bees and flies fresh nectar hunt ---
snakes end hibernation
golden glitters spread around land and seas
smiles of heaven seen on earth ---
dead seeds resuscitate
05 April 2022
Love
that grows
as fast as bamboos
will most probably
have no flowers or fruits
as it has weak roots
Flowers were snoring with sweet dreams,
When the Sun's fingers woke them up;
A symphony of birds-chorus,
Like a concert, seemed to thrill up...
Amidst summer's severe staring,
Rain opened his tap so softly;
A Ray-gleam joyously wetting…
The breeze seemed to wipe her gently...
Storm's wretched hand at such juncture,
Snatched the small sachets of roses;
Leaving the sunshine and shower,
Lay cuddling into bird's nestles...
Thunder smashed the sky; lightings laughed;
Bamboos kissed and the flutes giggled;
Weddings of clouds and vapors blessed;
Heat flew fear-filled, dreams unfulfilled.
========
O Nature! Play this 'hide-and-seek',
With my soul when she's sorrowful;
That she might reach joy's highest peak,
And dwell there, forever, blissful...
“Let the floods clap their hands; let the hills sing together for joy”
(Psalms 98:8)
23 May 2021
Personification Poem 150 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
In a dreamscape, the bamboos sigh
Stretching taut up in the canvas sky.
My horizons expanding higher and higher
Yet, as they grow bigger and taller.
They never forget to sway a little and bend
So the irresistible force of the wind
Will bring forth timeless lullabies
Not destruction, nor catastrophic cries.
Tended with diligent care and toiling
Prayed for against pest attack so severe
Being nurtured by God’s bountiful grace
Our church gardens* are flourishing indeed.
Abundant green and leafy vegetables
Sway healthily exuding their nutrients:
Camote, alugbati, and sili
Likewise, ampalaya, talong, okra.
Herbarium corner shouts vim and vigor
Since herbs serve with supplements’ readiness
There’s aloe vera; here’s serpentina
Sambong on the right; herbabuena, too.
Hedged with bamboos are ornamental plants
Vines and ivies find solace in their nook
Robust bushes, “fortune” and “welcome” reign
As shrubs of pink petiole and red gold peep.
Blest to be refreshed from these garden sites
I then linger near the acasia tree
Savoring oxygen breathed out freely
Thanking the Creator for flora-wealth.
Such is our Botanical Ministry
Offering sweet replenishment from stress
With greeneries’ beauty of wellness strength
Toward invigorating service-bliss.
*Jeremiah 29:5 …Plant gardens, and eat the fruit of them.
June 11, 2020
4th place, "Garden" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart; judged on 6/13/2020.
The windchime ,
Which is hanging under the roof,
I wonder why I couldn't hear their precious voice .
In a deep voice of silence,
They have drown.
That sorrowful silence tells me
They are waiting for a long known friend
Who brings them happiness, a gift.
Whenever that friend stop by here.
That friend must be here.
Now I could hear it,
The voice of windchime.
A voice full of healing omens
As the bamboos into each other
As many seasons have passed by.
All along,
They have waited for the wind .
I have waited too and
I am still waiting for the wind,
But I couldn't feel the wind ,
In my path,
To blow away my sadness,
Who will be my wind ?
Long bushy tail, eats
bamboos and bugs, a loner,
slept days, up at night
Date: 06/22/2019
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