Islanders Poems

Bikini

1946 United States authorities
chose to exercise freedom of choice
and forcibly relocated 167 Marshall islanders
King Juda he agreed as their voice
from Bikini Atoll east to Rongerik
a small island which adequate resources lacked
with the promise they would return
so much for the U.S. Right of Freedom Act
and with little regard to radiation or fallout
the beautiful coral lagoon's sad fate
was a nuclear weapon testing site
twenty-three tests in all 'til 1958
but scientists miscalculated
a dry-fuel thermonuclear bomb they blew

Symphony of the Sunrise

"Just breathe, you're having your breath taken, 'Aweigh anchors away,' the blessed follows," ... by The Poet

The unnoticeable lulls a fancy
as obscurity stares at a lost
such are promotions
of a trance
stages all ages
a momentous chance
for lifetime promise of romance
shattering glimmering
convinces glimpses
alarm bells--"Hush little baby don't--OH NO!"
"Release the Kraken ... or mices ... an ant if you have any?"
She comes, A ROWER?
It's The Specifics of the Ocean
Those islanders will come out - rigging
and surfing, Aurora, in a pipeline ... she's a dreamer ...
OH NO! WIPEout, its ecliptic ... but there at the ocean's edge
o'er the horizon, Aurora, RISE
the shacks are empty, the fields aplenty
The Drums of the Islands, Aloha Alive.

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?

Tsunami

Tsunami

Clinging to a tree my might is numb
Teeth chattering, soaked in seaweed I succumb
to the shores of doom, the tides violent surge
Adrift and marooned all owed to a sudden urge
After the party I woke up on a tropical island 
Wild rainforest and coconut groves, tailor made in Thailand
The Turtle Island, underwaters heaven
We were seven, gone snorkeling the night before
None of which were ones who washed ashore
I heard scrambling voices from below
less those who didn’t survive the deathblow
Lungs spewing up ocean water, not the timeless turquoise,
but the stormy muddled wash, murky, writhing wildly 
sirening a crushing noise
Twigs, glass, and storms debris rips through skin
Blood seeps down red rivers running thin
soaked thoroughly, bringing shivers    
As tidal waves and ruthless rain cease their wells,
instinctively the islanders help each other through 
the fallen landscapes
As the beached turtles struggle in their shells, 
who once glided effortlessly in the sea 
I know what I must do
Keep with the spirit of aloha
and stay until the sky becomes blue 
Then set the turtles free

Condition Three, Wartime Cruising

I was a good Buddhist jack tar,
Confident to sail this ocean of time alone,
All desire renounced and stowed away
Like smuggled cargo I pretend is legal trade.
I was well-practiced in the art of navigating perils,
Steering clear of revenue cutters, hostile native islanders,
And other such threatening complications.
Now has a typhoon struck that threatens contentment,
The swells have made me dizzy
And my sea legs seem uncertain
As I ride Poseidon’s roller coaster sick as a lubber,
An unlucky smuggler caught in the act
Of feeling long dormant desires stage mutiny
And relieve me of command of my senses,
Lusting after that other salty wonder.

coconut vendors

Beneath the cobalt sky, where legends are spun,
Island life unfolds, as traced by the sun.
Amidst the palms, a verdant ballet,
A choreography of chores, in the island's sway.

Fishing boats gently bob, tales in their wake,
Nets entangled with the morning's ocean handshake.
Fishermen, weathered, their hands tell the story,
In salt-stained shirts, a testament to the island's glory.

Coconut vendors wield machetes with pride,
Husks cast away, like secrets to hide.
Sweat beads on brows under the tropical sun,
As the islanders toil, their day just begun.

Children laugh, chasing the tide's embrace,
Building dreams in the sand, a jubilant race.
Their laughter, a melody with seagull cries,
As the day unfolds 'neath endless skies.

In the market square, colors burst and bloom,
Fruits and spices scent the island's room.
Vendors banter, a lively exchange,
Commerce dancing in the island's range.

As dusk descends, shadows embrace the land,
Twilight whispers with a soft command.
Stars emerge, a cosmic display,
Over the island, where dreams hold sway.

Conversation With the Park Shaman

A woodhacker rattles like wolf-jaws, 
A dog's appetite has just died 
There's blood in those graphite-green curtains 
Duck Islanders howl of a homicide. 
There's a murder of crows in The Three Trees, 
Where the Sky's Ties are tethered away 
The water's been kissed for the first time 
And the sun's lips have no more to say.

But the Stormwood has hissed back to sleeping 
Gunpowder Grove murmurs, 'match'
The Twig-Ink is scrawling black symbols
Like Maggie Pie scratched on our latch.
Grandad William keeled like a lever,
Dug his heels sprung the Wheels in Giant's Back
And the Red Cave began to make music 
And the timber talked in Tumble-Down Shack. 

It means that the summer is humming
Its footpeople wait on my hands
The Silkwitch is building a ladder 
Rippling gold rungs through the grass. 
When the light's right, like now, you can climb it
Through Horruary's cheek to the sun
Til the Fat-Ranch and chewing of winter
Are just gold stuff below 
In the land of the How Far We've Come.

Abcedarian For Fun

Alleged anthrax-laden alligator arrives in afternoon
Beyond bright baboon baby bestows brilliance 
Chaste chimpanzees charge chagrined cheetahs 
Doped donkeys deliberate director’s dictate
Elongated eel exasperate enormous elephants
Fruit flies flit and flutter among fruity flowers
Gravely gross gibbons gripe greedily 
Hyenas and hippos are hungrily huffing 
Igneous information informs iconic islanders
Jubilant jellyfish jealous juxtapositions
Kipling’ s kangaroos kill kindler’s keepsakes
Lively llamas leaping and loving
Many mammals merrily marauding 
Nefarious Neverland needing new numbers
Often outsiders oversee overgrown owls 
Persnickety porcupines parading in pairs
Quintessential quails quickly quell Quakers
Respite reveals rushing rip-roaring rhinos
Stolen stags slide south showing secrecy
Tiptoe through trails, tricking tigers 
Understanding unicorns utilize umbrellas
Very vexing victims verify variety of vixens
Well-meaning walrus whips whippersnapper’s will
‘Xacting ‘Xrays ‘Xplore ‘Xpansive ‘Xports
Yoga yielding yaks yelp at yellow yarn
Zealous zebra zips in zingy zoo.

The Abc Store

Both tourists and islanders shop at this store.
It sells souvenirs, cold drinks, and much more.
Find them on many streets in Honolulu.
Leave the city, and they're all over Oahu.
Explore these stores on the Big Island too.
Go to their shops on Maui and Kauai.
They even have places on Molokai.
Their selections and bargains are worth a look-see.
These Hawaiian convenience stores are called ABC.

Bougainvillea

The bride’s inflorescent bouquet, cascading —
a tropical tease of Chamorro charm
in the Marianas Islands.

A circular celebration arch
of bougainvillea and golden wedding bands,
preened and prepared, to love and cherish.

The handsome groom clasps the bride’s hand
as they step into the infinity ring.
Their breathing entwined with sunshine and seashells.

Her dark, Guamanian skin
and sleek ebony hair, surrounded by Red Hot,
California Gold and Sundown Orange blossoms.

The honeysuckle-scent of paper flowers,
intoxicating —
ruminating with romance.

The Pacific Islanders,
bare feet in tan sand,
release the coconut essence of their vows.

The grand reception at the hotel, in moonlight hours,
near the ancient wall, kissing blossoms and bracts.

4/8/2019
Bougainvillea Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish

Evil Mystic Water Well

What wells up inside
Down the dark hole coins are tossed for luck
Barriers, born on fear are near at hand

Islanders surface from the past for gambling
Dice people from Taiwan markets dig deep
Mystic water lay five hundred feet below
From here that would make it closer to New York
Under pools dark path
Below, most deep and damp

Moisture lays behind well walls  
There are no floors about the water barrier
So players must throw twice 
No where near here or where they need to be
13 is the only number rolled 13 times
Which makes them times themselves 

Solids form an interior circle of wet cement
From magic forces causing concrete blocks
Without the help of people gathering to stop
Who could stop a concrete block

To the evil power that remains in love with pain
Imposing on the child to fall down the open well
Water understands nothing, has no name, feels cold
Drinks in the love of God, remains inside the quiet 
Flourishes with raw power deep in the nether world
When not being poisoned 
Evil imposes on the child to draw near the shiny coin
That name is mystic water one and the same still on

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.

Where I Live - Malta

Sun filters through the turquoise sea reflecting warmth upon this tiny land and its islanders.





Not for the contest but  thanks for"the  inspiration (silent one's  contest)

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....

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

• Short Islanders Poems
• Famous Islanders Poems
• Best Islanders Poems
• Read Islanders Poems
• Long Islanders Poems
• Islanders Quotes