Banana tree root
Can be made into noodles
Flour made from extract.
Right out of the gate
the world grows eyes on the inside of time.
A banana tree as tall as an eyelash
bears bunches of fat yellow legs,
clusters of pendular legs are called hands.
Contradictions serve to jog you out of your mind.
Try not to think of babies kicking their own toes,
or ponder too much
on tarantulas and small venomous snakes.
Lifting the rusting machinery of a primal brain
can be hard work if you’re not used to it.
nevertheless,
raise a blink that takes a snapshot of a life.
After much rehabilitation and recover
feel free to postulate
that life seems much longer than it really is.
Most mature bananas are about the same length,
this simple observation alone
will make you unrecyclable forever.
~
I just picked a grapefruit
off an old banana tree
It sliced it up like an orange
and I couldn’t wait to see
A watermelon pattern
seemed to be its outer skin
My mouth it started watering,
I needed to dig in
It tasted like a nectarine,
a lemon and a lime
Perhaps a little tinge of plum
to occupy my time
A sour cherry texture
with a granny apple core
Was hoping to find cantaloupe,
so I just ate some more
I noticed just a hint of pear,
some grapes without a seed,
I guess it was the perfect fruit
and all I’ll ever need
But one thing that was missing
and it made it all unreal
I looked for a banana
but there wasn’t one to peel
~
Banana trees
Most of the jungles of Sumatra are uprooted
to plant banana trees the orangutans have been made homeless.
They try to sit in the banana trees, but it is too brittle for the animals
besides, they don´t care for this type of fruit, which gives them the runs.
It reminds me of Lisbon the Portuguese are proud of.
Moneyed people are coming from abroad to settle in the city,
a wonderful place to live.
The poor cannot afford the high rent when flats are modernized
to suit newcomers.
The unfortunates are pushed out to find a shack, if they are lucky
or failing that, live in tents;
many tents, in parks and sideroads while waiting to be housed.
There are many pretty banana trees in Lisbon, but they are expensive.
It has always been like this, the poor and the uncommunicative
must take the brunt when a town goes upmarket.
From the tree we both grow,
Pointed in different directions.
Banana tree, supple in the wind.
Perfect brown spots, silk yellow skin.
From the tree we both grow,
Inching closer, my lips intwined
In yours.
Green until ripe.
Although there are plenty,
It’s you I adore.
Poised in different directions.
How you’ve grown, thick in width.
The sun a smiling face that spreads
Warmth, the same warmth
I long to give.
Banana tree supple in the wind.
The bend of my body pointed towards
Yours.
Green until ripe.
Ripe with affection, ripe with purpose.
I can’t live without you, there is no
Substitute,
Involuntary to the dangers of being
Eaten.
Pointed in different directions,
Our taste thick, ripe in survival.
If someone plucks & eats one of us,
I hope that it’s me.
I can’t live without you.
Pointed in different directions.
I won’t see it, you won’t see it.
I can’t live without you,
It’s you that I adore
GHOSTLY
On evening walk reached haunted house
Entered just being curious.
Mini Cat chasing macro mouse.
Vampire fluttering wings furious.
On my way back to home at night,
descent crescent Moon descended,
glowing ten feet above my head
and as a torch showed me bright light.
It was a fact, me conscious.
Neither dream nor an illusion.
Perplexed in bizarre condition
Though always acted valorous.
Banana tree stood at my gate
suddenly slapped spreading long leaf.
Entering house just got relief,
Door opened on own: Surprise, great!
12/16/20
SOL’S A SHINING
Sol’s a shining,
And dog is laying around,
For on this day
Winter has made her home in residence,
And bought another dimension to feeling
Adding to a wonderful time of year,
And I sit in contentment be
And bask in Sol’s feathered warmth;
And let the world around
Pass with noisy traffic abound,
And siren in background,
Clear sky rain surrendered
A notch in the gauge indicates the occurrence,
Garden dressed in freshness splendid,
A zephyr stirs the leave’s,
On boughs of trees parked within the garden here
And beyond the garden fence,
Jackass from beyond laughs, laughs, and laughs again
To me he is friend in background far,
Butterfly dressed in yellow hues
Flitters and flutters on upward drift,
As winter shadows dance and prance adorn the land,
Papaya tree burdened down with fruity treasure plenty,
Banana tree heavily pregnant hangs prodigiously to ground,
It’s this time of the year for reflection in the knowledge
That I have plenty of blessings that abound
And wrap their arms around,
That I have much not to take for granted:
And Sol’s a shining,
And dog is laying around.
Francis Cooper – Mac © 29-Jun-20
CRISIS
BY DR RANJIT DUTTA
A blanket of darkness everywhere!
Civilization, society, love ,
Faith and religion
All are on the threshold of crisis.
My heart revolts
And says something different
The mysterious journey of time spreads
An enigmatic essence of evolution.
The lizard on the wall,
Hoots of the owl on the banana tree,
The colourful giant sky
Aren’t they the witness of eternal time?
The soul, incarnation and re-birth
All are in crisis of thought.
Weeping civilization asks again and again
But never an answer anywhere
All are spellbound,
Tough responsibility on the
Shoulder innocent generation
Unknown countless time,
A new social panorama
Reddish songs of life,
Joyous poetical notes,
A colourful dreams of love.
With Indomitable spirit of revolution
It’s indeed a journey!
A mysterious journey of eternal time.
If I were a horticulturalist like Sam Van Aken
I would splice a banana tree with a strawberry tree.
Strawberries are not tree-grown?
Okay.
Then I would splice a banana tree with a peanut tree.
If I could find a butter cow from the Iowa State Fair
I would set it under this new bana-peanut-a tree
For there is nothing better than a peanut butter and banana
sandwich
And I eat butter on everything
I did not know that about peanuts.
I would splice a banana tree with a pistachio tree
over my butter cow.
All poems were for you
I was waiting for true life
Pen recalled the last dew
Love was rainbow type
Lips composed the truths
You hugged all boo strife
Sparrow left all loathes
November rain was ready
For our sacred blue oath
Come, make rains and lee
Under banana tree we sip
The love filter forever free
Leave strife and past all grief
Love, unite soul, make deep
-October 23, 2018 Chattogram
How come Stephen,
When do you forget defence?
Why don't you hack death with your golden boot?
Do not disappoint me,
Do not let me down Keshi,
Your crown is medal-made;
Roam not with lilliputians
Whose blazer is calico
Whose utensil is mud
Whose bread is shaft and husk
Whose shelter is raffia...
But dwell among the giants
Who parade st. Joseph street in damask
And pop wine in holy Michael Crescent.
There you truly belong,
Flaunt your crown among Moses and Elijahs,
Flirt among Marys and Maras.
Be not a pebble in any ghost's catapult,
You are the Kilimanjaro, who can headbutt?
Be not a pebble in any ghost's catapult;
When the woodpecker pecks all,
Does it also peck banana tree?
Be not a pebble in any ghost's catapult,
You are the anvil, which termite can consume?
No, I will not meet you in dream,
I will not meet you in trance and vision;
Because you gave all you had,
Our tryst shall be Paradise.
Till then and for now big boss:
Head to head, chest to chest, hand to hand;
Knuckle, knuckle, knuckle.
Auf Wiedersehen !
IN POETRY SOUP SHE LIVES
Death brings down a banana tree
And goes about with joy in his heart ;
Rejoice not feller of tree
The one you cut has sprouted again :
She sits by the river side
There she quenches our thirst
With purity that flows from her soul
Her eternal spring sweet to behold.
A sparrow atop the roof
Singing sonorously with golden voice;
Guess not too much who she is
It is Marie that has come to play.
A chameleon in the garden
Painting roses , painting lavender ;
No , not just a chameleon
But Marie doing her art in style.
If you saw a spinner by the wall
Weaving words like never before;
Remember her vow and know who she is :
I live on in my words like a spider in its web.
So smile Marie’s friends
Smile in her victory upon wicked death;
When you wish to see your own
In poetrysoup she lives.
User’s name : Kayod5
Contest : Remembering Linda – Marie
Sponsor : Andrea Dietrich
From you, I don’t want to hear another word.
You say you wish to be like that yellow bird?
There it perches up in the banana tree.
Whenever it wants to, it can fly away freely.
Perhaps its latest mate just absconded from the nest.
Do you think he cares? He can choose among the rest.
You don’t know how good you’ve got it on this tropic isle.
You can be without a woman for just a short while.
Like the flowers in the jungle, women can be picked easily.
There are plenty of them out there for you and me.
Do not wish to be a bird; be thankful you’re a man.
You can attract women as well as any man can.
Find me out by the banana tree
where I loved you, and you loved me
stringing purple, braided beads
underneath the wind
Find me lapping up the dew
where you met me, and I met you
at just the moment time fell through
the gaping of our souls
Find me underneath the lake
a trail of bubbles in my wake
from diving down to give and take
the liquid words of daylight
Find me in your pocket too
a gift of soul from me to you
stamped, delivered, found in lieu
of love in it's conception.