From my sure grasp

From my sure grasp you slip
To a mansion of many a plot
Go ye to find your sleep
Therein I too have a private fort
We would’ve strolled there together
Like a bird, in your warmth I’d be singing
Across lavender fields cuddling in weather
Then to our tunes we’d be dancing
But flutter on my own in a whirlwind?
Oh long it’d be before you caught up
Even after we grew feathers in the wind?
And when is the distant day my wait shall erupt
We’d sing again long forgotten song in new dawn
I know my wait would’ve been finally done

Too late! Too early!

Dream

Somewhere in the distance
An evidence of existence
Like a sound in the mind
Surely, one of a kind
Weary and pleading
Perhaps bleeding
I hear a faint voice
And I made a choice
Since I could follow it
I would follow it
But I can’t forget the lady over there
So I shan’t leave my memories here
‘Twas sweet! Sweet it was! This dream
So I retreat under the cover of this stream
But somewhere in the distance
There’s an insistence
Like a sound in the mind
An evidence of existence
I hear a call for assistance
Too late! Too early!
Too early! Too late!

Like it’ll last forever

Wahoo-1

This valley
Seemingly endless
So full of life
Its own strife
Surrounds me
Beautiful as ever
Like it’ll last forever
When I look at you
I know twas a lie
Now I can’t fly
I don’t want to
But like the valley
And its alley
It’ll remain beautiful
As long as I perceive it

Listen

Crying child

Crying child

Listen to my brain
Can you hear the pain?
It’s in my eyes falling
Like a brown leaf in the storm
All over my face

Falling in the rain
Softened by a complain
It’s in my groans
A faint and distant voice
Constantly drowning

Listen to my heart
Can you hear two worlds apart?
They’re in my eyes decaying
Like logs in the storm
All over my face

Sweeping in the wind
Congested with hushes of my kind
It’s in their tones
Faint and distant voices
Constantly drowning

He who has ears, hearken!
She who has eyes, observe!
Is it not a burden?
Do we not deserve?
Listen!

Lady in white

Poetry piece dedicated to all the men and women who must work in remote places to earn a living. Even in atrocious conditions.

FOG-GIRL

Lady in white

In a white robe, at my door she stands
Don’t want to mess up, still she demands a glance
It’s hot in here, cold out there
To turn or to burn, I have to decide
She awaits, offers a chilling embrace
Silence of her chill hovers ever closer
A vast blanket! Ghastly white!
It’s hot in here, cold out there
Her chill is pure for sure
Tonight she offers a chance, must make a stance
Surely heavenward she rises in the morn,
And I can’t to heaven rise at dawn,
To turn or not to burn, I have to decide
Blinded by firmness of her whiteness
Oh Moran, you moron!
In a white robe, at my door she stands
While the aircon unit slumbers into a coma

Protecting my essence

Image

This is a protest to the ONE who copied my style and used KEY WORDS from my piece in his poetry piece.

——————————————-

 

So you modeled your jewel
Carefully like I did mine
Perhaps heartily like me?
Thinking I’d let you be
Oh you paved a walk to a dual
In my palm it ain’t a glass of wine
You heard of a pint of blood?
I bled many a great flood
So my jewel can grace this page
With its meager presence
So please be a gem and tell me now
Need I ask you to tell me how?
Know ye this isn’t me in a rage
Rather it is me protecting my essence
Please tell me
That I may be

Tang Juice: Our favourite juice, it’s a way of life

Tang_juice_Powder_strawberry

Tang juice

Tang juice

Tang_juice_orange
____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Packed in small packets as powdered juice, they come in different flavours: orange, strawberry, mango, pineapple, and etcetera. They make good refreshing drinks. Orange, and pineapple flavours are popular with consumers.

They are served at barbecues, picnics, feasts or mumus, and at meal times.

Kids love it. It’s a student’s favourite lunch time drink, and buai (bettle nut) sellers and chewers preferred mouth rinse.

On good days playful children through gaps in their front teeth would spit projectiles of this juice and are scolded by their mothers, who would threaten to pour the remainder on their heads.

Occasionally when a mother or father or both, whilst hustling their way to a game of cards, would scream at their children to stop nagging them and buy something to have with the money they’ve given them. More often than not the juice is implied.

A mother who has been loosing money would persist on playing cards and opt to feed her child this juice as she barks orders to her elder daughter(s) to cook something quickly. But it becomes a heavenly seep when she has lost all and ends up with a throat that feels like a desert that misses the rain for a thousand years.

Steam Bodies – slang for people who consume Steam (alcohol produced from illegal backyard brewing) – use it to dilute their brew. This group’s noise making skills, albeit without the aid of musical instruments, is unrivalled.

Often a drunk would use the juice as a matter of convenience, to sprinkle over the heads. This act of baptism, in an attempt to ease the tight embrace of the brew with its chill, often works well. A sweet and sticky residue however, which attracts honey bees to their faces, remains after all had dried up.

Picture a Steam Body in his/her drunken stupor, fights off honey bees. It is funny as it is serious. And if beaten, disregards the pain and continues to drink this precious fluid with a swollen face.

Owners of roadside markets make money from thirsty pedestrians, many of whom would have been loitering in and around shopping centers or government offices and are on their way home in the afternoons with their last kina in pockets.

Often up to four or five days a week, poor families in Port Moresby’s squatter settlements have it with a piece or slice of baked barn before laying their heads to rest. How tomorrow feeds them is another saga in their wretchedness.

Imported from Asia, a packet is going for fifty toea – it is cheap, and makes juicy and refreshing drinks for the whole family. It is called Tang juice.

This product has become the beverage of choice for the masses living around the fringes of Port Moresby city. It is and will be a favourite as long as it can be obtained cheaply.

It is part of us now – it is a way of life.

Come to think of it; what if a factory in the country starts producing Tang juice or its equivalent? Isn’t there a business opportunity when the demand is huge?

Well, this is for the money men and the government to think about. However, until these bastards start behaving selflessly, importation of this fine product will continue.

For now I shall pour myself a glass – orange flavour – and slowly seep my thoughts to slumber.

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