Best Bamboos Poems
Kiss me, I want to lift you skirt flying
Inside my heart like the wind
To dance on clouds of joy my kite
Embracing time, to hold you in my arms and spin
Festively playing in the clouds
Long lines of passion I can feel
Yearning against my string
Intermittingly fawning as you bow
Naked to the throb of wind
Garrulous like a lover moaninng
The scintillated light.
Etched upon the sweat shining
Silver shafts of ribs
Tensed in every fibre and nerve of being
...
I want to press my lips
Upon your cheeks, prettier than confetti paper
And let the golden sunlight drips
Chocolate of satisfaction on my tongue
Because I made a kite like this
Then to breathe your fragrance
Falling free
From every jasmine of your limb
Where the lissome bamboos hold firm
The quivering of my string
And when the wind exhausted
Make you loop and dip
Before suppliant eyes
To cash that boyhood zeal again
And run until you rise
Or shortening your leash
Bring you in
To closer dazzle my eyes
And let your string between my fingers fall
A ravished and splendid bride
I want to make you feel secure again
Your flying strained against my faith
Buoyed by the comfort of my love
For you the only joy that fills my eye
In the huff and blow of time
I want to lift you like the wind
And with you all my affections fly
To shout in glee from my little hill
Below unlettered clouds in pride
My kite alone to fly.
Long bushy tail, eats
bamboos and bugs, a loner,
slept days, up at night
Date: 06/22/2019
POOP - TALE : for contest
No embarrassment , everyone poops
So relaxed is the feel after all 's out
No gold and riches can ever buy such feel
I am sure all will agree silently though!
We get that feel for free as nature calls
In body, poop factory is so well- fitted
Based on our lifestyle it is regulated
Frequency n' timing our habits decide
As far as we breathe , we have to poop
No matter where you are, who you are...
How many times daily varies with species and diet...
Bamboos and honey diet makes Panda bears poop,
more than a forty times in a single day !
In other species range follows bell shaped curve
A balanced input-output cycle continues..
Doctors diagnose ailments examining poop,
Sausage shape is ideal poop the doc opines..
Mothers of kids worry if they cry while they poop
Too much delay makes happy a trader in laxatives!
Night soil in fields have made a fertile land
Poop of cattle folk is a manure too good
Everyone poops and is so useful too...
Deadlines and work pressure,meetings with boss
Petty tussles with friends or your own spouse.
Ask for a break saying you need to poop
Instantly you are permitted and you may slide out
Enjoy this break behind washroom doors !!
No more shy business, everyone poops!
Engrossed in reading a suspense thriller,
Or watching the climax of a movie horror
As soon as poop siren raises alarm, you got to go!
Ultimate rule is please don't control
Happily you poop poop poop and flush out !
FOR CONTEST- EVERYONE POOPS
Sponsored by:Roy Jerden
Submitted by: Anulaxmi Nayak
Date: 9th August 2015
glossary:
Bell shaped curve: the normal distribution curve
which has values of all ranges and takes a bell-shape.
Something changed my life.
At 17 they said I had a milliard of mental disorders,
I got committed to a mental clinic.
That was’t it.
I didn’t go in willingly,
Wasn’t allowed to talk or see anyone from outside for a month.
That wasn’t it.
I’d always had a therapist,
Ever since I can remember,
This one was the one who saved me from myself.
She wasn’t it.
I had many moments of despair,
Many moments where I couldn’t take it anymore.
None of them were it.
Days, weeks, months,
An eternity passed,
I was still there.
The silliest thing happened one morning.
Doing yoga on the corner of the terrace,
The sun was peering through the greenery of the tiny yard.
Then it happened.
As I was looking at the way the sun reflected on the bamboos,
The way even though months had passed and I was still there,
A feeling of peace overcame me.
A peace I’d never felt before,
A peace that only comes from within yourself.
From accepting that where you are,
What you’re doing,
What surrounds you,
It all is exactly how it should be.
I had found my happy place,
And I’d go there anytime I wanted,
By just closing my eyes.
Yesterday I learnt,
A beautiful something,
I learnt the peace,
That does not cease,
The breeze,
Clothed in nature's green,
The comfort,
Draped in nature's brown,
Through the woods,
Into the caves,
Over the bridges,
The sweet waters flowing,
Whispering gently,
Music,
That soothes the soul,
Impregnates the face,
With a broad twin lipped smile,
Crackling fires,
Rising smoke,
Embracing tightly,
The sun's rays,
Filtering through,
The swinging boughs,
Bathing rocks,
Swimming twigs,
Camera clicks,
Capturing the joys,
Of the moment,
Please fly me back,
I want to learn on,
Learn the love,
That binds the giraffe,
And the warthog,
The canopies,
And the blue skies,
The streams,
And the bamboos,
The monkeys,
And the trees,
The marshes,
And the rocks,
And above all,
The strength of nature,
The impact it imparts,
The bond it creates,
Between the creator,
And His creation,
Fly me back,
And let me learn on..
Word Craft
2013
Once I had a bicycle,
A loving present from my grandfather;
Since I was his favorite granddaughter,
He granted my wish at a snap of my finger .
Since he was so old,
A new bicycle he could hardly afford;
He took his bike when he was young,
Which I found it once at the back of our barn.
As far as I remember,
It was really so old and rugged;
But my grandpa was like Mr. Mac-Gyber,
Amazingly fixing all things all-over.
My granda was a well-known painter,
I thought he will repaint and use sandpapers;
When I surreptitiously sneaked into his hut,
He was there recycling all my milk cans.
When everything was done,
He gladly gave it to me with a big hug;
I hurriedly drove it at once,
Down the street and field with so much fun.
“My bike was real a unique one!” I thought.
So different from others in our neighborhood,
Its wailing siren was made up of a cow’s horn,
Tubes were made of dried bamboos and corn.
Other parts were still the same,
Like forks, hubs and chainwheel set,
The rest were made up of my milk cans,
They were pedal, brake and seatgear stem.
Handle bars were what I liked most,
Converted from the handle of his old plow;
So sturdy and so strong all I knew,
And I can drive it so long in full control.
However, when I travelled quite afar,
Parts were falling one at a time;
Until everything suddenly split apart,
Eventually it dropped and rolled me down.
©2012Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Date: Aug. 3, 2012
4th Place Winner (My Very First Winning Poem)
Contest: Any Poem of the Week Contest
Contest Judged: 8/4/12
Poet Sponsor: Secret
To live a day safely in a city
where citizens must be echoes
and human rights are a fairy tale
but you want your mouth not pinched
your ears not pulled by anyone
or coconut not to hit your head;
a lemur you should be,
the big eyes not to miss coming danger
Live as a donkey-
the long ears to detect dangerous footsteps
Live as a giraffe -
the long neck to enable you see horizon
live as a tortoise
the hard shell to safeguard you
from falling debris
Live as starfish, colored, without brain-
brainless to avoid reasoning,
as this is a taboo
Live as turkey- dumb, foolish-
drinking water only when it rains
with no heavy demands for rights
Live as a gazelle-
take off fast when things are unbearable
But do not exist as mosquito-
you will annoy brain-workers there and,
you’ll be hunted down with clubs
Do not live as a dog-
always foolishly present in waiting,
loyally carrying out dirty errands
your back will be broken with kicks
Like mother Pandas, brain-workers in the city
care about feeding only on bamboos,
can kill offspring by rolling
on them without care!
A bamboo be not, a child panda be not,
a mosquito be not at any moment
Galvanize wisdom and courage with
alloys of foolishness and weakness
if longevity is to build shelter,
in your courtyard.
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
Our ashes have settled on the cliff of pride
while the seed of today sprouts your frailty beginning.
We have at last seen the face of our god
which you have not even learned to utter
or never will at all.
Your intelligence gave you power that
failed the comprehension of our yesterfathers.
You built humans in just a sprinkle of semen
on to the skin of alligators and ants
on to the stem of a bee and the sting of a plant.
And you called them your sons
And you called them your kind.
The burrowed earths have no more riches
and they are left unpalatable to worms,
no more worms even
for even these decomposers
learn to tire feeding on your greed
no more shades of blue in the putrid waters
to which this bottle was thrown,
to which this letter longed to swim with your same species
that can never be in our family tree
for it has grown dead atop the impotent soil.
How we wished that your sons wished they
were with us in the time when
sparrows roared in the Kamagong tree when
wild boars chirped in the dancing bamboos when
the snow-like smokes breathed in the cone of Mayon when
the bangus and tilapia worshipped the nets of the singing fishermen.
How we wished they wished they knew.
How we wished they wished they saw.
© 04-11-13
From the Elephant's diary
You find me giantly like Gulliver, huge and obese
but I met my doc, he said take it with ease....
for you big is more beautiful so eat more cheese
I am on my diet of sugarcane juice,
lush green grass n' tons of bamboos
Mammoth was my forefather not anymore seen
Now I know being gigantic is in my genes
Instructor at the gym shooed me away
for I broke his treadmill with my single step I say
We love to have our bath in nature's pool
We dabble water with our trunk till we are all cool
A relaxing shower for all friends after hectic schedule!
In our forest club, trophy for best music band,
we won last week for our trumpet troupe!
Large is our family my Jumbo uncle says,
Old and wise he is in our tuskers' herd
He says our eyes are small, to see
only little good left in this big bad world
And our ears are large to fan away
the gossips and bad we hear
Thick skin we do have so called pachyderms
to shrug off the hurling vices of the woods
but we have a large heart to spread
loads of love to all species widespread
In history, we have a place reserved
for in wars and royal processions,
we were used as pride symbols he says
Revered animals we are since eons.....
In country called India, heritage animal we are
and even worshipped in religious places he says!
Huge boulders or logs ,mankind used us for transport
We even entertain them in zoos and circus
But he regrets that we are poached, killed by men
to pull out pair of our incisors called tusks
who polish to make precious ivory to earn bucks
So useful and harmless friends to humans we are
I asked my uncle why so cruel the men are?
He said men show their power
of being Nature's superior creature
we elephant folk are helpless giants
We can do nothing but to pray that
we be valued for our selfless services and
be saved from going extinct from this world!
©Copyright Anulaxmi Nayak,2015
For contest: Giant animals
Sponsored by: D.Nathan
Date: 2nd September 2015
Some things unsaid by
bamboos quiet in a pose of repose;
there are shivers in the
chords of leaves
unseen by glances from
eyes unread.
And still,
they close and bow,
things must have been
said from the depth of
a heart bursting not with words
but of silence understood
and affirmed.
She is in her 59th summers, while he is in his 60th winters
The way they size up themselves
They are what “on” toward redeeming
And regaining each their respective separate lives before
To one lofty and solid momentum in their lives
If they are today an aged wine, they are the savor
They delve and sip on it to quench their dried lips
Their dried throats to their hearts’ contents
For they are still endowed in spirit, mind and heart!
Once more their paths crossed
Forty two years ago of gnawing, searching
And to a halt, they met again
Destiny, they believe in the making then
Finally they found themselves fulfilling
Lost paradise in a kubo (hut) at the back of a hill
Near a sand dune mountain near the China sea in the North.
A love never and never in their far fetched imagination
They cohabited and concocted this love story
Together they trek a new life with hope
A love never in their lives as separated and divorcees
Ignited a new love and a new, good and compatible relationship
That they alone knew.
Witnessing the romance are love birds in one nest
And bamboos swaying with joy acquiesced their longings
Together they drown themselves
And into high potion of endearment
They have not indulged into drugs like addicts
They were likened but this time
They are really HIGH..into LOVE.
Till the reawakening break of a new dawn
And beyond every pages of calendar
Their love will stay forever.
Dalila Agtani 1/5/2012
Entered in a contest
Sponsored by:
Debbie Guzzi
Contest Name
Tell Me a Story
Slave Girl
by Victor Ehikioya
I have left the gong,
The drum...
And those sticks that strike
The dead log,
To my mates, who yet, tarry
At the square with amulets
Flung around their necks.
My soles ache from trekking,
And my waist, too weak to
Jerk,
To the erroneous sounds of
Tumid timber.
Mama sees not these things
For I too foretell the seer's
Prank.
The letters on the gate,
Scare my thought.
It seeks refuge from
Swollen speeches
Bamboos and knives--
Belligerent folks.
I am the lad with a
Tattooed tooth,
Woven on the left breast.
The child with a soneri
Made to nimble on bare feet
As the tambor swells with
Rage;
To somersault and swirl,
Like the Eagle, with
Unintended misfortunes.
But now, I see their faces,
Gaunt!
Blurred with hate,
A smug with no smile.
They sit and scorn
Mimicking my rhythm,
And the runes from my
Charcoal-gray Mother.
The tin gods bear my step
Witness,
And my sniveling, the fools
That clamp my feet to Metals.
I am the gray child,
The voice beneath the sea
The monster in the man.
These things they fear,
For now the mountain,
Has fallen in the lake.
It burns in me,
your broken thoughts.
Reminder of a wound,
healed, yet, not forgotten.
Ain't it too late?
For I can hear the bamboos,
that'll ferry me across,
the meridian being felled.
"Girl!" I say, "Weed off,
your unhealthy doubts."
Ah! The planned waterfall,
is a free fall of thrills.
There ain't a life jacket,
But 'am set to take the plunge,
Holding onto my ABCs*.
You stick to the blueprint, please.
*ABC = Accelerator, Brake, Clutch (meaning controls/basics)
XMAS TRADITION
How I longed for the Xmas tradition we celebrated when I was growing up. The Xmas tradition that still lives on; but we left behind. It is celebrated here in some parishes. However, it is not the same as we celebrated it in the Philippines.
As Xmas advent approached, my father busied himself making Xmas lanterns to be hanged in every window of our house. They were made of bamboos and colorful papers with bulbs inside to light at night. My brothers and I were so excited watching him make them and when they were all hanged.
Then the devotional nine-day celebration started on December sixteen, wherein we walked to the church to attend a mass each day starting at dawn or four o’clock in the morning. After the mass, at five o’clock we ate rice cakes with tea or hot chocolate outside the church. There were so many delicacies to choose from, as they were so many who made these rice cakes to celebrate the Xmas season and to show and share gratitude.
On the ninth day, the end of this devotional tradition, the mass was held at midnight or Xmas Eve welcoming our Savior with gratitude. Instead of eating the rice cakes after the mass, we all went home to celebrate Xmas Eve. We all gathered at the kitchen table, young and old, enjoying Xmas dishes and rice cakes and togetherness.
“Christmas”, the season
to reflect and be grateful
for our gifts, blessings
11/27/21 "X" Contest, New Or Old Poetry
Constance La France