Best Islanders Poems


On the subject of BORROWED DESCRIPTIONS ----My quest to appreciate my island roots

I live on an island in the Pacific region
The largest body of water is the OCEAN
Like, can we be more Pacific?

I think Christopher Columbus got lost
Because the directions were not pacific 

Oh, excuse me, the Pacific Ocean
Where you will find the small islands (micronesia)  
Where you will find the black islands (melanesia), 
Where you will find the many islands (polynesia) 

Generally, the islanders are like coconuts
So hard on the outside
But succulent on the inside
Yet they always end up wanting Samoa

Get this,
An assault by an Islander
is called a Hawaiian Punch

At times, these islands need a therapist when they are in a tropical depression 
Some islands have sunk
Oh no do not laugh
That is not funny atoll
Sea yourself out

Therefore, I live on an island
A small island
I am a MICRO
I mean, how can I get more pacific than that?
Categories: islanders, appreciation, culture, history, imagery,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Mermaid Melody

I was submerged in 
an ocean 
          of rants,
hiding the sparkles 
of my  
poetic 
       planktons.
My meaningless 
phrases 
that meant 
everything,
but 
   nothing and anything
at the same time.

Yet I found
   mermaid melodies
   from idyllic waves,
placed 
    with love 
in my heart,
by a 
   mystical angel
worlds apart,
that felt like home 
    in so many forms,
when bitter reality 
was
crashing
 and  
    thrashing,
my bones with no 
mercy or empathy.

Although twin flames 
     reignited 
          lost romance,
against every tide of 
redolent rhymes 
and measured meters,
as couplets destined
     to be sweethearts.

In a world
of untold 
     words 
and expressions,
we scribbled 
sensual senryu, 
and silver sonnets,
along lilac lines 
of lavender shadows
   where ebony fingers 
intertwined to devise,
cryptic potions of 
   pearlescent personifications,
and 
harlequin haiku
as well as 
ethereal etherees,
where hourglass nonets 
bleed 
amethyst alliterations,
forever composing
floral choruses 
whilst healing through 
free verse
with strawberry musings, 
on a sandbank 
where islanders 
rendered 
        ravishing runes,
dripping on 
chocolate reveries,
     about soulmates
that sheltered their 
love in 
       an 
           oyster 
                  shell.
Categories: islanders, emotions,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Lost Flight of Hope

A spaceship called Hope... made from future's grand mist, 
is perched upon a launch pad of manic chemicals, and loss.
With stun gun emotion, mother earth regurgitates.  
5-4-3-2-1
Her metal finger meets the button...
she releases her ballast...
Blast off! 
My brain engulfing G forces.
Soon to become a mustard seed
in the speed of light garden.
Filled with gravid redheaded planets,
giving birth to fat-headed moons.
The stars are cheering, like starving mad islanders.

Light years have passed. 
Ground control has lost contact.
(by choice or by accident).
The rations are depleting,
but I'm serene in a starry tranquility...

I've blown by a million past lives.
Apologized half-heartedly to an alien God.
Who wished me well, pointed toward a giant black hole.
Then disappeared into the vapor trail
of lost potential and cachexic hope.

Its eerily over.
There's no more virgin oxygen.
Only the stale argon of saints and tyrants,
casting shadows of black hallucinations
chanting:
"Little seed...little seed...Didn't you know this was a one-way flight?"

I gaze out a stained-glass window for the last time.
Church bells are ringing from the parched throat of time.
Four golden letters peel from the side of the star dusted ship.
Satiating the madness of stars...
"Little seed...little seed."
Categories: islanders, allegory, space,
Form: Free verse

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Premium Member Aloha India

ALOHA to my friends in INDIA, I hope this message is received with the understanding that recent interactions have vastly expounded because many have participated with my sponsored contest and as such, there is a cause that the synergies, on the most part, is protonic. Those I've been communicating, for various reasons, all pertaining to poetrysoup.com, have represented the people of INDIA, in the greatest measure to overflowing. The women are pretty due to the extension of their beautiful souls, the men ingratiate their resolve with such a passionate outcome that they give rise of what makes "INDIA is great...", and due to witnessed efforts, they have added the words, "INDIA is great...and is greater!" And for your charming children, delight your shoulders, enchantingly. I wish only to meet as many Indians as possible, but alas, I have but one life. I had the privilege to shake one Indian hand, and that was with Madame Indira Gandhi, for she had brought an elephant from India to grace our zoo here in the islands, some many years ago--of course. Yes, Hawaii is beautiful I suppose, but in a way, the islanders do not exist, for it has mountain ranges for hearts to climb, flowery valleys for romance to blossom, sparkling rivers to mirror your charms, beaches with surging waters that tantalize souls it embraces, yet, you will never see me or my fellow islanders, for we have faded and became part of its scene, with the sole purpose to sustain our gracious place in a way that it was designed, just to attract beautiful people to feel our spirit's that are now part of its landscape, welcoming them with Aloha, to our souls within our shores.

Aloha INDIA
                                                                                      

2019 September 15
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: islanders, beautiful, people, perspective,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Swahili Praise

English verse>
gimme sum mutual praise
gimme sum mutual praise
gimme sum mutual praise
All them there people's of the world;
Coastal dwellers praising; All day long, all the day long;
Rejoicing, and repenting of their wrongs.
Everybody on the islands;
Everywhere on the coastal Regions on the seas, lakes, oceans, everywhere;
Sahil  praise;
Sawahil praise;
Boundary dwellers
capture to the heavens bound;
Islanders playing  bongo-drums and tambores
Imani-faith
Kusudi sabatu purpose, purpose
Rejoicing, and repenting of their wrongs.
Everybody on the islands;
Everywhere on the coastal Regions on the seas, lakes, oceans, everywhere;
Sahil  praise;
Sawahil praise;
Boundary dwellers
capture to the heavens bound;
People dancing, praising and praying all day this is their Swahili praise;

Swahili verse>
jumla Gimme kuheshimiana sifa
jumla Gimme kuheshimiana sifa
jumla Gimme kuheshimiana sifa
Kwao kuna watu wote wa dunia;
Wakazi wa pwani kumsifu; Mchana kutwa, mchana kutwa;
Kufurahi, na kutubu makosa yao.
Kila mtu katika visiwa;
Kila mahali katika mikoa ya pwani ya bahari, maziwa, bahari, kila mahali;
Sahil sifa;
Sawahil sifa;
Wakazi wa mpaka
kukamata mbingu amefungwa;
Wakaazi wa visiwani kucheza bongo-ngoma na tambores
Imani-imani
Amejenga sabatu lengo, lengo
Kufurahi, na kutubu makosa yao.
Kila mtu katika visiwa;
Kila mahali katika mikoa ya pwani ya bahari, maziwa, bahari, kila mahali;
Sahil sifa;
Sawahil sifa;
Wakazi wa mpaka
kukamata mbingu amefungwa;
Watu kucheza, kumsifu na kuomba siku zote hii ni sifa yao ya Kiswahili;

09/22/17
written by James Edward Lee Sr. 
from anthology  "Swahili Praise"
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
Categories: islanders, appreciation, community, endurance, engagement,
Form: Lyric

The Great Blasket Islands

Visits long ago 
to the Blaskets Islands,
to untouched areas 
on the Dingle peninsula
came to mind 
on this sleet winter’s eve.

The peninsula,
nestled in heather mountains.
The coastline,
tongues of lonely white sand.
waved rocks,
drenched in blue mussels
tide pools, 
alive with shrimps and periwinkles
A sea-salted life
unspoiled and free.

Only marine life remains,
but I still hear the music
our native language,
the voices of Seanchaí
the ballads, sean?s, 
Peig Sayers
who shaped our school years,
her renditions of island life
her mad pise?gs,
handed down 
from generation to generation.

Stories of
Islanders huddled together
under thatch,
open turf fires
cooking pot on a hook,
the sweet air wafting
of clay pipe tobacco
a pinch of snuff
sniffed from a silver box,
nursing a glass 
of neat Poitín, uisce beatha,
the strong smell of tweeds
and geansaí báinín.

I think of times lost,
changed forever.
Cottage ruins,
where goats roam free,
An Blascaod Mór
my history, my heritage.

Gaelic words in this poem


* Seanchaí – storytellers
Sean?s – singing without music
Peig Sayers and her mad pise?gs – A Gaelic writer who we studied in school and her mad superstitions.
Poitín, uisce beatha – very strong alcohol made from potatoes, called the water of life.
geansaí báinín – strong sheep wool sweaters usually in a cream colour with complex patterns.
© Eiken Laan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: islanders, childhood, family, history, life,
Form: Free verse


The Islanders

The Islanders


We live in an Island
Surrounded by water
Both murky and crystalline
In water we put our trust
To protect us 
From the outsiders
Our lives are internalised
We become the outsiders.
We are the Islanders!
Our imagination is pixied
Our dreams not fluid
or solid but shattered.
Our faces closed. 
This paradox is not what we desired.
We live in Diaspora in Dystopia!

Therefore the water lets us down
Again and again!
A bridge over it, we build
to reach out to the others
Embrace otherness
To embrace compassion
Afterall the word is the very epitome of the womb
From which we are born!
The healing begins in our core!

 No longer are we Islanders.
But we are the tamers of the water
The builders of the bridges!
The healers and the healed.
Categories: islanders, adventure, appreciation, courage, inspirational,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Small Towns Revisited

Small Towns Revisited


by Edmund Siejka


We Long Islanders
Live near a large City
Of
Tall buildings 
High end stores
Apartments with gated windows
A place where people live like strangers.

Here, where we live 
The land slopes downward
Towards Merrick Road
Inviting us for a walk
Along the way
It’s just like a neighbor
To call our name
We say hello
And exchange pleasantries
There is no need to say anymore.

Our families have roots here
Passing our local school 
We recall that July
When fathers,
Tradesman
And office workers alike,
Volunteered 
To help build a playground.

Wives worked nearby
To be home
When children
Stepped off school buses
Homes managed under their careful eye.

Near a park
Our sons and daughters played soccer 
Families came to watch
Their children run like the wind
Memory tells me
It was a good season.

On nearby streets
We helped neighbors 
With routine chores 
Lifting and pushing the unmovable
Shiny things for a kitchen
Or something for the upstairs room 
Odds and ends
We call possessions.

In return we are known here
And we take every opportunity
To walk through a quiet town
As early evening
Peacefully descends
On everyone and everything.
Categories: islanders, family,
Form: Narrative

A Perfect Couple

They have amazing smiles
Two islanders from neighboring isles
Found love and got married
Enjoyed the blessing it carried
Leading life with no demise
Happiness enveloping them, a disguise
Look through the photo albums
Memories too valuable for sums
Yet under all the joy and perfection
Comes the ultimate interjection
You realize there is so much pain
The amount, quite insane
Smiles were all fake
Everything was about to break
The unity and love was a fluke
It was all hit by a nuke
Tracing all the signs of sorrow
That killed the future of tomorrow
Realizing that there were broken hearts
That were shot by poisonous darts
And all you can do is stare
Because reality you can't bear
There is nothing you can do
When it has nothing to do with you
Watch as everything crumbles
To pieces, as the noise mumbles
Seeing that image topple
Is it still that of a perfect couple?
© Ali Akl  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: islanders, lost love, love, people,
Form: Lyric

Island of Fantasy

There's an Island I know which is surrounded
by a deep, blue ocean,
filled with mermaids, Lochness monsters,
giant octopuses, and dolphins
that can talk!

Within the Island, we have folks of all kind,
who have met somehow through time....

Genghis Khan is an architect;
he's doing something different and peaceful,
rather than attacking his fellow Islanders.

Cleopatra is a great chef,
making all kinds of sea delicacies
the Nile will never know about.

Darwin is still an archaeologist;
he has dry bones hidden in his research lab;
he's convinced some Islanders may have
vampire genes in them!

Fishermen love Elvis. He sings so well
the fish jump into the nets in their hundreds.
"No Elvis, No Fishing!" is their motto.

A great number of electric eels are missing,
and no Islander knows why.... 
Tesla is secretly making electricity from marine
life without a Wildlife Warrant.

Yes, the Island is full of strange people and things
which seem normal and usual to them.

I always carry the Island with me,
like the mythical Giant Turtle.

The Island is in my thoughts....
Categories: islanders, creation, fantasy, funny, humor,
Form: Narrative

Small Country Is Enough

More than enough for me, a small country
There is no bloodshed, the winning is free
So the government rules are not our foes
Life even at bet, at least on our own bit

Than a country of big, but a war it will take
Ours not the country, not even our territory
Let the owners govern they and have their say
They won’t accept us to lead their heads

They don’t like the islanders, to captain the ship
They have their own chief in the land wide field
Like them is us will never accept their lead
Never had we recognize, their captain in the trip

They will do theirs among their kind
For the cause’s sake, there must be a divide
And then we are to unite, to hold our rights
The winning is completed to get back to basic!



Sunday, 10 November 2013
7:17am, Kota Kinabalu
© Neldy Jolo  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: islanders, age, angst, caregiving, change,
Form: Epic

Premium Member Islanders - Collaboration With Paul Callus

On the balcony of our room
We stood alone, just you and me
Watching the rising crescent moon
The twinkling undulating sea

Inhaled the salty fragrant air
You had your arm around my waist
Warm breath that flirted on my nape
The teasing lips ready to taste

Let out a sigh, there was no haste,
It was yet early in the night
Temptation waited by the side
It lingered, silent, out of sight
 
I’d longed for moments just like this
You smelt so good, tasted divine      
Our lips were locked in urgent kiss
Full bodied gift like rich red wine

Your gentle hands removed my dress
Dilating eyes filled with delight
For I wore not my thermal vest
The heated passion filled the night

A cloud went by, obscured the moon
Now things were not how they should seem
I was alone, he was not there
This must have been a Maltese dream!

Collaboration: Paul Callus & Jan Allison
30th October 2014
Categories: islanders, romance,
Form: Rhyme

It Is Now Autumn

It is Now Autumn

It is now autumn
The leaves are changing slowly
The air is cooling

It is now autumn
Time for life to be calmer
Summer all over

It is now autumn
Time to go to school again
Time to learn in class

It is now autumn
The Northumberland Strait chills
Boats return for winter

It is now autumn
Only islanders live here now
The Island is home
Categories: islanders, environment, sea, seasons,
Form: Haiku

A Defining Moment

It was so nice to be part of this big celebration 
held at the Hilton Garden Inn, Staten Island;
roughly, I think, more than three hundred people
were in attendance to celebrate and congratulate
those deserving honorees of Project Hospitality.

  This year, too, marks its 25th years of service
  since its foundation to many Staten Islanders;
  those speeches and presentations made so far,
  made me think the work of quintessentially
  humanitarian aids to people who are poor.

It’s like a magnet of interest for people like me,
being a disciple, a man of God in my ministry
caring for both: bodies and souls of the people
crying for peace, justice, and sharing of wealth
especially those who hunger for food and shelter.

  I met some friends, fellow priests, and parishioners
  who came to witness and be part of this event;
  there’s emotional tugging that went along with it,
  tracing back the past clothed with memorable insights
  a wealth of faith and accomplishments to be kept.

Msgr Vincent Bartley, a friend and confrere in the ministry,
was indeed an inspiring example and a true priest to everyone;
his never-ending commitment to the poor and abandoned
reflected God’s love to peoples of different colors.

  He’s part of history, a living icon of service to humanity,
  with his years of experience in Africa as a missionary –
  was a triumph of blessings that continues to abound
  an evidence in his life, a gift that could be triumphant.

He received a long standing ovation after he’d done his role,
with that thunderous applause from people in attendance 
a moving experience, a sign of God’s love for him
with his dedication to serve the church across cultures.
Categories: islanders, friendship, people, love, people,
Form: Narrative

Calm Before the Storm

The sea of troubles
Spewing frolic wrathings
Islanders compose
Categories: islanders, adventure, caregiving, fantasy, happiness,
Form: Haiku
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