Short Mangrove Poems

to the fighting cats
monkeys on mangrove tops say ~
don't make us judges


10 November 2021...

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There is a forest named Shundarban, 
It's not similar to the forest of Bandarban. 
It's famous for Royal Bengal Tiger, 
It's also famous for deer. 
It's time to save our Shundarban....

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Mangrove Jack
He might attack
Always lurking 
Never twerking 
Twigs in his hair
His smell everywhere 
Dirt under his nails
His creepiness prevails 
Mangrove Jack
He will be back…...

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HAIKU

~~~~~~

three-toed sloth... 
always hanging out... alone
mangrove wonder... 
~~~~~~~
mangrove wonder... 
always hanging out alone
three-toed sloth...

~~~~~~~~~...

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Different colored blown glass
Placed in a simple row boat
Beauty represents varied life 
Humanity lives
Companions of many hues
In search of a new homeland
A place of mangrove roots 
Kin came to Georgia...

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Dew ballet stirs animate on fragrant morning air
Acidic steam ere ancient winds admit first sight of dawn
Marsh rafts bearing saddened reeds through mangrove-sheltered heat
Perspiring forest greens' forced breaths as night so wetly fades....

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Tiny black crabs climb
Up and down my arms and waist
As I drink the humid air

And taste of the salt
That the heron also knows
When she snatches at the clams

That lay at my feet,
Reflect color of my face
In shades of black, red and white...

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My mind is a tree,
With millions of leaves
Connected to millions of twigs
Connected to 58 branches.
There are squirrels too.
(Lots of them)
The roots -like a mangrove- burrow and conquer.
It grows when it shines,
Sleeps when it's dark,
And shrinks beneath the cold.

You should see it when it blooms;
It's full and quite lovely....

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watching parrots eat
mangoes hanging from trees  ~ 
cool breeze caresses
_____________________________________
Based on a  visit to mangrove forest in kerala. In summer season mango trees bear fruits. Parrots love mangoes and usually live in mango trees.

29.06.2021

Submitted to	Summer Haiku, Tania Kitchin

Syllables checked with PS syllables counter...

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You are not
on my page.
No more in my abstract sleep.

Cease-fire
will not be declared-
in the realm of dark dreams.

There was
one tear at a time.
No battle cry.

Trampling on
the old reminiscences, 
a tiger jumps on the author-

of mangrove.
The aerial roots have
stopped breathing.

Your lungs become
a flute. A war song frightens
the death.


Satish Verma...

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Broken pieces of glasses
moves around the high-way
while water flows away,
Lights were drizzling
over the road - nearby
woods were mangrove
and someone,
someone was crying
between the hearts

I saw,
her shadow
Standing still scared

Over the walking sands

Somehow, Somewhere She is ....

The Wind
The Blood
The Glass

Bounces and flies

A floating glass runs way ! Returns the long trail...

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A tangled mess of mangrove trees
In the waning moon of a low tide
The roots exposed from ground below
They make a place for life to hide.

They keep the delicate balance in check
And patiently wait for the tide to turn
While they obey the cycle of the moon
Rooted to the ground with no concern.

Sometimes life is a tangled mess
As we wait for the tide to change
But if we stand rooted in our faith
Life will suddenly rearrange....

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Machiavellian schemes besmirch a murky mangrove calm
A propeller breaks the tranquil glass over an underwater farm
Neath the broken still, a peaceful giant stirs with alarm
and no consolation is found as noise churns it's quiet charm

The serene spots need to be augmented for they are our balm
Ecosystems need protection from greedy developers’ harm
Empyrean Earth for all, is in our active palms, giving alms…


(5/12/21: Custom ketch; KKMI Richmond)...

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By George P. Lumayag
https://georgelumayag.weebly.com/


Sweet sunrise dances over the horizon and the gentle wind blows
Of summer breeze; weekend  ripples stay at mangrove tree.

We hear and feel swelling waves during high tide
Beneath the nipa hut that seems boating at night.

Our arms feel the warmness, the softness and deepness
And my voice whispers love and happiness.

Our dreams of a lifetime caress, of endless care
And of love may perish at twilight....

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By George P. Lumayag
https://georgelumayag.weebly.com/


Love is the thing with fruits
That nourishes in the hearts
And beats the drum with timing 
And never stops beating.

And the fruits are tasted
And the seeds must be planted
That could show love is right
And that would have a bountiful harvest.

I've seen it in the widest farmland
But I've heard it at the mangrove shore
That the fruits were covered with surd
By the drum-beating harvest of a sincere hand....

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I look everywhere around me,
See spark of fireflies in front of me.

The world is filled with darkness,
Hear no sorrow but happiness.

A time to reflect to my sins,
Count the blessings and my wins.

Screams of mangrove are like music,
Stars are staring like a frolic.

The world is in state of silence…
Bad things turn to resilience.

I stare in an endless darkness,
Erase the uncountable madness.

How I wish the world is black.
Set myself and back things on track....

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like walking in a tulip garden
i undo the aquablue,
how many steps you were away,

entwined like mangrove:
our roots were standing upright
to breath in moist silhouette

of equatorial sun, blooming
in anguish of separation: come
one day to leave me forever,

a train in desert going nowhere
on ancient wheels of time;
and i will aim for a perforated flight

one day to be reborn and the shadowed
ride under the truth will open
the husky lips of pain


SATISH VERMA...

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