The scalloped plantain
Shapes like a scallop
Leaves open up like a fan
Flat and wide
A remarkable landmark
Eye-catching and attractive
Frankly displaying
With no secrets hiding
Sincerely welcoming you
With open arms
Strikingly loyal
With supporting and compromising
Raised hands
But sad to say
It's disappearing from the garden
People are too busy and unartistic
To admire the surrounding
To appreciate the nature beauty
To be grateful to God's creation
Knowing the knowledge of man is like testing the wielder man,
growing and gripping from grass that causes a liquor of liquid.
••••
To those who love plant,
will tell the benefit of the incubant everywhere in the farm,
having a rotating mind to wind up a standing fan.
••••
The sick will pick the dreak,
living the falling leaves to in astray in a mouldy train.
Having a believe in the shabby shrine.
••••
Creating the hole for the whole,
commanding the seal to steal,
jumping from horse to host.
Making a sign like a hobby human.
The fruit is tasty
So different in taste
looks like a banana
Yet its not the same
A banana just eat
Plantain must be cooked
Once its golden brown
It is ready to eat
Any time of day
It does not matter
A delightful treat
I often enjoy
Eat me as cheeps
Boil me as food
Either green or yellow
I grow every where
Green when unripe
Yellow when ripe
I give you suckers for the
Future
Give me nine months
I give you
Fruits yes fruits
Plenty of it
Some to sell
Some to eat.
The pink petal is holding the buds safe like a mother hen,
I see another overlapping,
As I keep removing the laps one by one,
I realize, isn't our life's destinies going the same,
We achieve one goal, to start one anew,
As we peel the clusters one by one,
Here the stamen and the baby pink plastic like looking layer-
The rest of the flower, latex white,
Picked for cooking along coconut- a tasty delight.
But as I go ahead the layers, size of the clusters small and small,
And plucking getting tough and tough,
Hands blackened, sticky and tight,
As if struck with -Araldite.
I manage to go to a certain extent,
I keep waiting; probably I shall see the top portion now,
Which my mother claimed to be sweet and soft,
Like the heart of the lord
But on and on as I kept peeling,
But after a certain spot
Whence I had no patience left,
I took a knife and slit the cone,
Only to see the layers on and on,.
At this point I had this thought,
Final goal being God,
Final destiny happiness,
We all climb from one step of stairs,
And go along many a stair case.
We reach God the ultimate truth
Or leave the road in between,
This is a dreary journey we make,
To receive the joy of everlasting happiness.
Caseworker: Yams and Plantain
Cabrini-Green Housing Project
Chicago
Bienvenido’s comin’ over,
says his wife,
to ‘splain me
why the kids
have got no rice,
no beans,
how the landlord’s
shovin’ notes beneath
the door again.
In Puerto Rico Bienvenido
dug up yams,
was paid in plantain,
came over here,
brought his wife,
then his kids.
First New York,
then Chicago,
gave up yams,
gave up plantain,
just to drum
and make a living.
Donal Mahoney