Best Terraces Poems
"Ang hindi lumingon sa pinanggalingan,
hindi makakarating sa paroroonan".
(A person who does not remember where he came from
will never reach his destination).
Filipino proverb.
Gift me wings so I can fly to a blessed land
of emerald isles with an eclectic ecosystem,
admiring an affluence of biodiversity
of tropical exotic fauna and flora,
where turquoise waves wander onto
golden shores of alluring Binitinan,
exploring the coral reefs of Boracay.
A place where childhood dreams fill the air,
where innocence once built sandcastles,
but now all that is left is forgotten footprints -
from ghosts of ancestors.
Let me soar with the Pithecophaga Jefferyi eagle,
through rainforests and Kawasan falls,
where souls are free to roam the motherland's
seven thousand spine-tingling islands,
from Maya bay to Palawan's underground rivers
of enigmatic Puerta Princesa,
until we greet the palm trees of Camiguin -
the valley of volcanoes and the sunken cemetery.
Viewing the Colours of StoBoSa to the
pretty patterns of Ifugao rice terraces,
until we reach the marvels of Luzon,
silently perching upon the zenith of
Mount Pulag's peaks, transcending spiritual
echoes towards Mindanao's Mount Apo,
whispering secretive Tagalog tongues,
in one hundred diasporic dialects,
as iris and marmalade skies welcome sunset,
we'll bathe in the sapphire ripples of Bohol sea.
Then we'll follow radiant night lights,
reaching the bustling streets of Manila,
losing ourselves in the succulent scents
of balut, kwek kwek, taho, halo halo,
as we devour juicy lanzones,
refreshed by a cool breeze,
The pearl of the Orient,
home of Balagtas' Florante at Laura,
dulcet tones of Santiago's Anak Dalita,
where heartfelt hospitality
with rich cultural heritage,
soothe tired eyes gazing at
natural wonders of ancient views,
where vibrant hues leave you breathless.
Idle porcelain boats
are seagulls
floating
on a teal harbor
blond moorings
cast like kelp
Sails stiff
as egrets
glide slowly
toward
a cerulean channel
Atop turtle islands
pastel cottages
are pearls gleaming
on oyster beaches
umbrellas splayed
like starfish
on sandstone terraces
schools
of rainbow blossoms
wafting
in the salty air
3rd Place
Late June Premier Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
6/25/17
*****Anyone who knows my poetry knows how I often use Greek mythology in my works. This poem revolves around the idea of the moon longing to become 'into being' so as to be with Venus, whom is represented in Greek mythology as beauty itself. I found the whole idea appealing and very fitting to romance******
In her sweet palace Venus dreamed a million loves....
....and blew many a kiss from rainbow terraces above,
oft in the jealous gaze of Silver Joy, the 'Elven Moon'
that shines for her employ, and fantasize he ----
How moonlit his face was upon her wanton court;
if only his beams could become as flesh
and feel her love in the high places of the world.....
Thus he would erect her likeness in earth's every corner,
where the roses must grow 'neath her lovely,
and what blooms would bless!
and smite all things unhallowed;
She gazed upon him most fondly in his fullness,
and felt his night-kiss on her lips,
in the soft of summer.....
gentle o'er the mountains,
his lunar eye did confess, a midnight matrimony;
..... the mid-month, as much man as moon
and could but touch her in his witching-hour power;
Through her silken curtains as a moonbeam god,
the gaze of a thousand Lords.....
when Venus strolled her many walks
aerie-dressed in her balmy breezed gowns,
naked with stardust wine;
When none would love her,
not even Aries! ----
but the moonlit night....
his breath upon her brow, (and her feminine lush)
And danced she her little waltz with him
(fair maiden of the moon)
Surrounded by tranquil turquoise waters,
Guarded on sides by oceans three,
In the east by the Pacific,
On the south by the Celebes Sea,
And on the west by the south China Sea,
There is an archipelago on the blue water crescent,
A group of islands, called Philippines,
Encircled by a girdle of gleaming silver,
With its shores of stretching sandy swell
That lulls the restless waves to sleep;
A land of green vegetation and terraced terrain!
It houses picturesque and breath-taking views.
Vast beaches of ivory sand sprawl before our eyes
Dolphins leap over seafoam, palm fronds wink
Soft breezes waft and cotton clouds float above.
Anyone will fall in love with these tiny strips of land,
Of rugged hills and meandering rivers
Of placid backwaters and blue skies
Of gibbering monkeys and celestial monarch birds,
Of strutting peacocks, pigeons, pheasants, and parrots.
The powdery white sand of Boracay
The Chocolate Hills of Bohol
The Caraballo Mountain ranges,
And the Cordillera Mountain chain of Luzon,
The Rice Terraces of Philippine Cordilleras
All these give the country a solemn investiture.
Volcanic peaks, standing mighty and tall,
Proudly line the landscape, dotted with dense forests
Where birds sing melodies and Tarsiers with bug eyes
The tiny primates, endemic to the Philippines roam and jump
Amid the slumbering hills, there is fecund soil,
Turned into orchards and plantations,
Its population with perseverance and patience
Work in the soil relentlessly and in unison.
Well known for their hospitality, they receive tourists,
And outsiders with warmth and camaraderie.
In this paradise of mixed fortunes, tragedy comes unforeseen,
In the form of natural calamities like typhoons and cyclones,
But nothing can tear the people apart and they prosper,
With resilience, bent on sustaining their tradition,
Adding value to it each day and proud of an identity of their own
This beautiful land of velvet waves and crystal sands
Lying as a pendant in a crescent of emerald cluster
Rightly deserves the title- the 'Pearl of the Orient'
Mist feathery drifts
last night’s breath loosening
above basalt slopes of Huatung
Pacific swallows trace morning brushwork
over Fuli’s rice paddies
new green scented with rain.
Xiuguluan River flows jade mountain-born
among ancestral stones
white willows in Ruisui weep
dew-kissed
cycad fronds catching first sunlight
Leaf pearls gather on my thatched sandals
Walami earth holds stories in its coolness.
Bihe Pond rests hidden in Wanrong’s stillness
waters reflecting the tribe’s quiet prayers
Bamboo leaves in green and gold
crested mynas gather in quiet repose
wind moves with the chime of a temple bell.
Ancestral path wanders into the Central Range
oolong tea clouds drift
above Qilai’s blue ridges
A white egret lifts over Guangfu’s terraces
air clear as poured Longjing.
A bulbul calls
blue magpie glides
the slow unlayering of day
Huatung Calligrapher’s span warm to newborn light
time unspools—
bright
unmeasured.
Light widens
dawn follows Yu Shan’s shadowed valleys
the world in quiet promise
soft light
drifting into morning.
Landscapes exposing nature’s grandeur
mountain ranges inspire great trip.
Cordilleras of welcoming marvels
propel refreshing ascent
amidst pure verdant sights.
Those delight me, the Earth’s firmament
while surveying the pine trees steadfastly queueing along hills
offering shade to blossoming lilies
with cabbage roses wondrously radiant…
oh, inviting faith-strengthening treks
driven by faithful stewardship with reaching-out pursuits
toward triumphant spiritual peaks----
Today’s awesome focus points me toward the third heavens*
as I hover above this certain magnificent vista**
designed by the sovereign Creator ---
giant mounds sprawling
cloudy crests and pinnacles ~
engraved terraces
*Hebrews 8:1 …We have such an high priest, who is set on the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens.
**Kibungan, Benguet Philippines is my Dad's birthplace.
September 17, 2020
2nd place, "Writing Challenge - Nature, Four in One" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 9/20/2020.
-- January 30, Martyr's Day --
noble and martyred
wrapped in the colours they served
nation in their legacy
***
August 14, 1947
Jawaharlal Nehru stood before The Parliament - Words were spoken, recounted this century as clear as then.
“Long years ago, we made a tryst with destiny; and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially.
At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom.
A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new -- when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance. It is fitting that at this solemn moment we take the pledge of dedication to the service of India, her people, and to the still larger cause of humanity.
The turning-point is past, and history begins anew for us, the history which we shall live and act and others will write about.”
August 15, 2017
Policemen are positioned at the borders of states.
Stars are thanked at the break of dawn - the night passed without their lives.
Embassies light up with stories of the past - They play out on facades for the holidayer in traffic.
Tiny hands wave paper flags at the rural side of the city. In the August heat, parades are viewed from terraces barefoot.
Students wear pins in a march. The sole aim ~ Giving back more than we get.
A day cannot sleep without celebration of culture:
saffron, white and green
twenty nine states on stage -
nation in their eyes
.. continuation posted
SCENERY TO PAINT
Every day we reviewed them in parade attitude
Along the Snake River in the Tetons’ solitude,
Or at attention on the banks of the Volga
In the infinite taiga -
In neat ranks along river terraces
Warm dark firs mixed with yellow acer,
All with the wind slowly leaning,
Their branches across the river-ice signalling
To great endless squadrons of their fellows :
In spring with their full flowers - yellows :
An army in a gold and topaz uniform
Ready and waiting for orders to fall in and conform ;
And in fall with their rich golden foliage
Always polished and ready for duty with courage.
In poor soil, in tough climate, these were heroes
Prepared for all their tomorrows.
Each morning we watched “Reveille” parade
In the dawn’s early light; and the evening shade
Gave “taps” for that heroic multitude -
The taiga’s topaz army, in golden solitude.
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Written by Sydney Peck
Entered in Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver's Contest ...Paint the world...
Heavily laden boats, rectangular sails billowing
Under seas of low cloud, braving the fierce Yangtze;
Held between snowcapped mountains, earth and sky
Indistinguishable from steaming mist and rolling fog;
A long drawn straggle of Grey Geese plummeting down
From breathless, rarefied air to stumble awkwardly onto
Plum coloured mudbanks; an unrestrained, excitable
Cacophony of frenzied honking! Then wild monkeys
Provoked into howling each side of the river.
There, at the juncture with Longjin Brook, stilted homes,
Half-hidden by bamboo groves, crouch at the waters
Edge; maidens will come to wash clothes
Whirling wooden batons, twittering like golden swallows;
Fragrant wildflowers enhance their sweetness.
At drab, pale, first-morning light, fishermen cast
Nets over the cooling, placid blue waters;
The fish that swim here are said to be the finest
In the province.
We will exchange Black Carp and Blunt-Snout Bream,
Wrapped in moist bamboo leaf, for glutinous rice
With the clans that tend the terraces inside the fertile
River valley...
Does not the Emperor insist upon good commerce?
If you are dissatisfied as a peasant
You can take the ancient "old tea horse road"
And burden your back with heavy bales stacked high
On a rail;
The road will take you all the way from Zigui
To Tibet...or even further perhaps,
And sombre ravens will soar overhead and taunt your
Every footstep.
But I will remain where I am, in the
Village On The Water
Nestled deep within the Three Gorges;
My life, the endless horizon stretched beyond,
Held in balance as if it were Shaseng
The Shadow Play Stone;
And each new morning awakening to slow,
Chiming bells.
Sautéed scallops on the skirts of Italy
Debutantes of a chardonnay shimmy
Mediterranean terraces of broached stars
Gucci wallets moonlighting baroque hearts
Manolo Blahnik legs lavishly luring
High heel sculptures of effusive Etruscan art
Olive ties stirring perfumed Sicilian thighs
Inhaling fragrant glasses of jasmine jet eyes
Rosy secrets saturating burning blotted lips
Fiery fertile plumes of Pompeii's fresco kiss
Vesuvian silence preening suave sable hair
Folded napkins of toasted Venetian affairs
Treasured land splendor and glory
Pearl of the Orient Seas
Soldiers of known most emotional people
Loving and hospitable in patriot's blood line
The secret of velvet Three Stars and a Sun.
Fortified highest kind of water
Hallowed island of more than
Seven thousand and one hundred seven
Proudly her alone no other can hold.
Through her God given treasures
The Rice Terraces of Banaue
Created more than 3000 years ago
Formed and sculpted with bare hands
My Ifugao ancestors
Giver of my calm sound of survival
Food for my body and soul
The best and will proudly shout my own.
The Tubbataha Reef
One of the largest virgin reef you'd dive
Over diversity of colorful sea creature
You'd see the heaven underwater.
The majestic Underground River,
As a seabirds sanctuary you'd be speechless
A UNESCO world heritage site.
Palawan's gift to its people.
The chocolate hills of glorious Bohol
Conical hills of limestone
Fragments of earth's unexplained laws
Home to the smallest monkey, the Tarsier,
The subtle Mayon volcano of Albay
Most perfect conic one in the world
Proudly my motherlands finest
Her glory on the face of beloved earth
Bathe your soul with the heaven by the sea
My best beach, one of the worlds brightest
The Boracay of Panay, best you won't regret
A soul's portrait of the skyline and sea.
Intellect, wisdom, skills and faith
Sun, earth, stars and sky of blue.
Falls, lakes, seas, and trenches
Bestowed by my loving motherland.
Visit and you'll see more the best
Treasured land of splendour and glory
Of my Three Stars and a Sun.
Proudly my Pearl of the Orient Seas.
Thunderous silence in fresh mountain air
Dragonflies land on a mirrored flat lake.
A trout breaks the surface with but a swirl
Hushed morning stopping to rolling vast cheer.
Eight boats of rowers united in curl
Sixty-four faces combined in their ache
Coxswains urging each stroke with due care.
Rugged peaks fix firm gaze from up high
Each ridge a crease on a wrinkled old face.
Colours camouflaged by tussock and screes
Against this grave setting boats do defy.
Medleys on shore of blushing marquees
Supporting calls surge the rowers fast pace
Crews each pushing for all others to deny.
Canada geese carve the sky in their vee
Graceful wings scooped as they slowly descend.
Almost merging in the landscape behind
Splashes blend as birds land and oars break free.
Rowers increase their methodical grind
While a grand race is nearing its end
Sounds swell as crowds heighten their pleas.
Symbols of an intolerant harsh soil
Grey terraces flank the edge of the lake.
Head down merino ewes quest for their feed
Rowers and sheep joint in differing toil.
Leading boats lunge forward as though freed
Far behind peace returns in their wake
And the triumphant finally uncoil.
20th January 2016
The sunniest island,
with its Sea Stacks standing out
of the Tyrrhenian Sea,
shimmers as sailboats glide
in timeless serenity...
Paradise's duplication in man's heart.
Winter brings no drifts of snow,
only mild breezes from Sicily,
and the tourist is always on the go,
exploring, discovering and wondering
how this small island came to be...
when God stopped and began creating.
The sunniest island
with pastel houses perched on cliffs edges,
and ruins of castles and villas on rocky hills;
the loveliest island
in the Mediterranean garden...terraces
decked with common brooms and oleanders.
And as the mists vanish towards evening,
the quails are seen flying above, while the lemons'
perfume is hard to resist...the beautiful landscapes are revealed;
sail away in the bluest sea ever seen by the human's eye...
spend the starriest night gazing over its glistening waves:
a traveler's dream realized in the sunny island of Capri!
In the City of Pines, vendors are everywhere. High and low prices are everywhere. The once cool region of overflowing love somehow narrowed its space for the younger generation because of commercialization.
Commercialization, on one hand, helps. On the other hand, synchronization is tantamount to compression, which can be a sign of evaporation.
Nevertheless, many people visit the City of Pines, a wonderful site in the East. Foreigners from everywhere troop to the place to witness and feel the beauty of the living pine trees around the city of Baguio -- "bag-iw" in Ibaloi, indigenous language of the region.
I had my chance of visiting the City of Pines, the home of the famous Rice Terraces. I trekked the rough roads and cliffs of the mountains. So cozy and so relieving. The scent of innocence above the mountains and serenity in waters below the mountains. An ethereal scenery with the breeze of resonating heritage.
The City of Pines is rich in culture and tradition. No one would ever wonder that an indigenous tribe can still exist up to the present time.
The musical instruments being played by the people, the indigenous materials sewn and worn by the people are the pride of the said city.
Many beautiful things and memories can be said about the City of Pines. Like the pines of my birth, very close to my heart.
( Coming home from the mill. )
Air full of smog from dirty factory chimney
people walking around square quite nimbly,
grey clouds above small terraces workers abodes
typical northern town with narrow cobbled roads,
Local shop owners struggle to make both ends meet
children with no socks or shoes on their feet,
family men hope for a day's work to pay rent
to feed all his children that to him were god sent,
wives with baskets looking for bargain goods
so poor though happy with their neighborhoods,
men hope to earn extra money for a small bet
women on hands and knees cleaning door step,
clean clothes pegged out uniformly on washing line
smell of fresh linen, carbolic or fragrant pine,
sparse food deliveries are made by horse and carts
factory workers full of hope and bleeding hearts,
communities of northern England full of respect
where life was so hard and would never be perfect.
Composed 25th April 2017.
Contest:-celebration of art.