Isaq Main Jo Hona Chahiye Wo Parhej Na Rahya
377 Hatan Ke Baad Chhoriya Ka Craze Na Rahya
Laali Lipstick Ke Rang Fike Hon Lagre S
Bane Bnaaye Palang P Ib Malang Son Lagre S
Sukar S Len Den Ka Janjhat Dahej Na Rahya
377 Hatan Ke Baad Chhoriya Ka Craze Na Rahya
Muchha Aale Marda Ke B Khumaari Si Hori S
Karwa Choth P Saadi Bandan Ki Tyari Si Hori S
Bhut Kuch Likhna Tha Par Pez Na Rahya
377 Hatan Ke Baad Chhoriya Ka Craze Na Rahya
Categories:
hori, life,
Form: ABC
“Dan molom ini dia membawa payungnya" [in Bahasa Indonesia]
Dia beranjak keslangan hori ini
Dan molom ini dia membawa payungnya
Gugusan kabut terpapar di balik kilauan sarung keboyanya
Saat dia berjalan melintasi duniaku
Jauh dan semaken jauh dia melongkah sendiri
Dimana tanganku tok bisa menggapoi untuk memeluknya
"Tonight the moon carries her umbrella” [English translation]
She rises late in the afternoon
And tonight she carries her umbrella.
Smoky tendrils trail behind her glittering sarung keboyanya*
As she strolls across my universe.
Far, far away she walks, alone,
Where my arms cannot reach to embrace her.
*A dress worn by women in Indonesia.
This poem was re-crafted with the help of Silvana Sandi who translated a phrase in Bahasa Indonesia.
Categories:
hori, beauty, longing, moon, universe,
Form: Free verse
Numbers on
White board…names written hori-
zontally
Students ask
To go pee…right when class starts –
THAT’S just wrong…
Bathroom line
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!
People are
Not using lunchtime to do
Their business
No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
IOUSLY?
Categories:
hori, anger, childhood, class, confusion,
Form: Free verse
When I was a young boy,
I struggled to fit in,
never knowing where I belonged,
really puzzled me back then.
Not white enough for the Europeans,
not brown enough for the Maori's,
I was always getting left out,
I thought it was because I was a half breed.
I use to get teased a lot,
for the clothes and shoes I wore,
always some one else's hand me downs,
we were pretty poor.
Didn't help my Mum was shameless,
you could always hear her before she come,
all the kids pointing and laughing,
"Is that lady really his mum".
A lot of people knew who I was,
none wanted to befriend me,
I was just a Hori in there eye's
someone they just kept teasing.
So i'd watch all the other kids,
run off into there little groups, playing happily,
Just sitting there watching and wondering,
if one day they would pick me.
I was pretty lonely as a child,
so I decided I would write,
and in the world I surly found,
a way to escape my life
In this world I was happy.
In this lworld I was free,
In the world I had many friends,
everyone wanted to know me.
M.Mahauariki © 2012
Categories:
hori, life, world, me, mum,
Form: Rhyme
I hear the familiar sounds of Korea,
Of the crowing of roosters in the morning,
Of the fields, streams and marketplaces.
The tunes of shamanistic music band
The swirling of fire-lit cans of Jwibul nori,
The soup boiling sounds in a huge pot,
A crisp “tak, tak” sound of soybean burning
And the crackling sounds of dry branches.
Chanting at planting & threshing paddies
The singing of Hori and Gyeori songs
The striking of the bronze bell of Sangwonsa
Chanting-Beompae to Daeung Amitabh.
In the far-flung village of Sangyu
The flames of the daljips in the rice fields
Soars high in the sky on Jeongwol Daeboreum
Higher the flames, the greater is the harvest
Promising bounteous year and good health.
People dance Pansori at the tunes of Nongak
A feast is being prepared there,
The full moon catches people’s prayers
And spreads it to the high heaven.
Jwibul nori’-Mice burning game is on
Somewhere yet in another village.
The traditional burning of the rice paddies
To chase away the mice from the fields.
With crackling sounds of fireworks,
Warming and fertilizing the frozen fields.
=================================
Third Placement
Contest: Sounds Familiar
Categories:
hori, life, people, social,
Form: Pastoral