Apple blossoms are beautiful, but rice dumplings are better.
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Prayer To Pipal Pillaiyar
Gorgeously pregnant with varieties of dumplings
Vadas, appams, puffed and flaked rice
Cooked, baked chickpeas and raw rice idlis
Payasam with ghee-fried cashews and raisins
Added to the core of sweets
Fruits of jack, jumblem, mango, banana, wood-apple
Guava and of modernity simla apple, pineapple
And tangerines; Also on availability whole sugarcanes
Main offering of potful of cooked rice
With little dal purified on with ghee
Whole and halved coconuts, betel and areca
Little water from panchapaathra....Pillaiar
Signalling to nap, Your paunch belched uptrunked
This peepal tree on this tank-resort
You chose to sit under for rest..
Gentle breeze peepal tree strokes so sweet
Mind-sweeping and You're in a pleasant mood
Delicacies bulge though in real bulges your omniscience
In full prostration seeking Your blessings oh Lord!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Apple Blossoms
Apple blossoms, the smell is in the air,
I cast aside my doubts,
The grass is green, the sky is clear,
Spring burst forth in a profusion of colors,
Replacing in its stride the gloom of winter,
The ice around my heart is melting,
The warmth of spring fills me with a rush,
Apple blossoms a spectacle of red,
Falling amid the grass,
Making a colorful array of green and red,
Along with the sunshine,
What more could one ask,
Apple blossoms, spring is here at last!
poem by Marva Seaton
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Red Apple, Red Apple
Red apple
Red apple
sitting on the ledge
savouring its nutrients
for a few moments longer
Red apple
Red apple
Savouring its time
That is has left
As a whole
Red apple
Red apple
Traveled such a
Long way, from the store?
Farm? another country?
Red apple
Red apple
Haunting me by
The curiosity of
How juicy you taste
Red apple
Red apple
Shine on,
Red apple
poem by John McAdam
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one day at school, Korea (1801)
I don’t like school, Sir
most venerable teacher;
and though you are kind, Sir
and all my classmates too
and you all help me study and learn
like you make me know
the first five characters in the alphabet
but the moment I am out of school
all I can remember
are the rice-cakes and sweets and the dumplings my mother makes
and true, Sir
most venerable teacher
you teach me the numbers
and I can count from 1 to 5
when I am in class
but when I’m out
I love the toys my father brings
and I play with the wooden toy soldiers
and I love the ducks and the clay horses;
and I really can’t remember the first five letters
or the first five characters
when I lie in bed
and when I am back in class Sir
dragged in by Old Madam Toothless Bong
who always knows where I am wherever I try to run
I can’t remember anything anyone taught me, Sir
most venerable teacher...
I know Sir
all of you have spoken to me
and my dad and my mom
and Old Madam Toothless Bong
and all my friends in class
I must study so I can go to the city and find work
but alI I want to do, Sir
most venerable teacher
is to play and eat and sleep when it is time
and one day, Sir
most venerable teacher
(I know you worry about me)
when I’m grown and big
I’ll make toys and I’ll sell them
and make money for me and my family;
and I’ll make all those sweets and dumplings
and feed my family...
so please, Sir
most venerable teacher
because I don’t like school
and I can’t remember anything
do not worry about me and let me go to the fields now
and I shall grow to be tall as the trees
and as rich as the rice fields...
________________ _________________________
poem based on painting: “Seodang”
(private elementary school in town)
by Kim Hong-do, Danwon (1745-1806)
poem by Raj Arumugam
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The Day I Hate Rice
The day I hate rice
Is several rare day in a year
When I don't eat rice
I don't want to eat rice
I don't want to see it
Because I hate its taste
And I hate to think about it
If I have the day I hate rice
Then you'll know that I don't feel well
I'm bored of this procession
I want to run from this life
Because I begin to hate myself
...just a little while
And everything will be back to normal again
That's the meaning of
The day I hate rice
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Adam and Eve Apple Fantasy
I am bored Adam
I am bored Eve
Let's walk together in the garden
It is afternoon Adam
It is afternoon Eve
Our tummies are empty
Let's have something to eat
It is beautiful garden of Eden
How wonderful the fruit trees!
Adam look honey
This beautiful Apple tree
No Eve this is the knowledge tree
Look Eve there is sign in the sky
Can't you see?
Lord command 'Don't eat from the apple tree'
Ha Ha Ha
Who is that?
I am serpent of the garden
Listen Adam
Listen Eve
Go pick the big apple
from the tree
Adam my honey
Do you hear me?
My stomach is aching
go get me this delicious apple
Eve I would not disobey the Lord
Oh Adam
Oh Honey
You seduce me Eve
Ooh Adam
Ooh Eve
Something happened after
we ate the apple
Go Adam get some Fig leaves
Adam Let's rest
under the shaded tree
Adam let's have babies
Eve let's have off-springs
poem by Sherif Monem
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Always for My Wife
The moonglow on the apple tree
silvers the blossoms I can see
and turns it into fragile lace.
A simile I can trace
back to the day you married me.
Resplendent in your modest,
the dainty veil which hid your face
could not conceal your innate grace.
Nor yet the mischief in your smile,
demurely walking down the aisle
up to the altar where I stood
waiting as a bridegroom should.
Such is the spell the moon can cast
reviving memories from the past.
To me you’re like the apple tree
mature; still beautiful to see.
I loved you then I love you still
the vows we made we still fulfil.
Now we are old we understand.
The symbol of the golden band.
we each placed on the others hand.
No power on earth can countermand.
Our promises made honestly
we’d love each other faithfully.
We did we do and we always will.
(7-May-07)
poem by Ivor .e Hogg
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Life Blossoms into vitality
Petals blossoms into flowers,
Clouds blossom into rain,
Seeds blossoms into trees,
Minutes blossom into hours,
Bricks blossom into dwellings,
Anger blossoms into destruction,
Exuberance blossoms into newness,
Nervousness blossoms into exhaustion,
Teamwork blossoms into unity,
Perseverance blossoms into success,
Beauty blossoms into enchantment,
Intrigue blossoms into enigma,
Trends blossom into innovations,
Eggs blossom into fledglings,
Rose blossoms into scent,
Sun blossoms into optimism,
Stars blossom into radiation,
Soil blossoms into vegetation,
Art blossoms into exoticism,
Ice blossoms into waterfalls,
Fire blossoms into compassion,
Imagination blossoms into concepts,
Wine blossoms into sedation,
War blossoms into hatred,
Pearls blossom into resplendence,
Dreams blossom into floatation,
Fashion blossoms into style,
Roots blossom into stem,
Salt blossoms into tanginess,
Strength blossoms into fortitude,
Resilience blossoms into conviction,
Surrender blossoms into despair,
Truth blossoms into harmony,
Relationships blossom into empathy,
Violence blossoms into prejudice,
Discrimination blossoms into bloodshed,
Scalp blossoms into hair,
Love blossoms into passion,
Peace blossoms into solidarity,
Rainbow blossoms into vivacity,
Endeavor blossoms into sweetness,
Tunes blossom into songs,
Mind blossoms into ingenuity,
Wilderness blossoms into mysticism,
Flames blossom into ardor,
Corpses blossom into ghosts,
Retreat blossoms into sadness,
Bondage blossoms into rebel,
Faith blossoms into worship,
Infidelity blossoms into nemesis,
Idiosyncrasy blossoms into nothingness,
Spiders blossom into webs,
Benevolence blossoms into humanity,
Independence blossoms into character,
Renunciation blossoms into divine,
Introspection blossoms into discovering,
Emotions blossom into yearning,
Death blossoms into extinction,
And life blossoms into vitality…..
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Sweeter Than Wine
The Almond flowers,
With buds and blossoms from my lover;
How sweet is the entrance of your tent?
Braided chains of pure gold,
The apple of your sweetest love;
With pure incense of sweet spices.
On one branch,
On one's love,
With buds and blossoms from her taste;
An Olive Oil from her light to share with you like,
That of her skills and abilities.
Your sweet love crowns the night,
In the midst of her mountains with love;
This is my deisre towards her.
Her love is sweeter than wine,
See how her breasts feed among the Lilies;
Of the Almond flowers,
Refresh me with your sweet apples my love;
You are so beautiful among women my love,
Your sweet aroma of the Almond flowers fills my soul.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Inspired by Issa - your rice field, my rice field
your rice field, my rice field
the road between that leads
to our dreams in tokyo
your rice field, my rice field
the road between that leads
to our sons in tokyo
inspired
your rice field
my rice field
the same green
-Issa,1815
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Blossoms and My Love
The unusual winter warmth,
Has brought the spring fever in the nature and in my heart,
The pink, purple and white blossoms are blooming all around,
just reminding me of your warm and sensuous loving heart.
How can I compare your beauty with the spring blossoms?
In red blossoms, I see your luscious red lips,
In white blossoms, I see your beautiful body,
The purple blossoms, reminds me of the depth of your eyes,
Closer I get to the blossoms,
closer I get to the God's intricate creation,
Closer I get to your loving affection,
closer I watch the heavenly smiles on your lips.
Under the blossoming tree I walk,
the fragrance fills my love yearning heart,
When I hug you with my sincere love,
your sweet 'I love you' words, fills me with eternal love.
poem by Jay P Narain
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Lovers Or Friends?
Love is like a wild red rose
Friendship, like an apple tree
The apple tree is dark when the red rose blooms
But which will bloom predominantly?
The wild red rose is sweet in Spring
Its Summer blossoms scent the air
Yet wait 'til Winter's finally here,
Will the red rose still be there?
poem by Gloraly Gomez
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Like An Apple
I have seen a beautiful woman like an apple,
So get her for me as a wife;
For she is the right one in my eyes!
She who is the one for me has beautiful breasts,
She who is the one for me has beautiful hips,
She who is the one for me has beautiful lips,
She who is the one for me has a beautiful shape,
So get her for me as a wife.
Please, lead me into this vineyard of love;
Please, lead me into this sweet love of her;
For she is all that is in my mind.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Y... Close to my children
I was dreaming
I was a magnificent tree
With my children as saplings
standing around me
sharing my roots
I was dreaming
I was a beautiful rose
With my children as buds
standing near me
on the same stalk
I was dreaming
I was a reddish apple
with my children as blossoms
standing near me
on the same branch
I woke up
and my children were near me
So many thanks, my God.
poem by Aufie Zophy
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I Remember
I remember tasting raindrops
On my tongue.
Dancing under apple blossoms
In that white dress you loved so much
I remember
Us.
The 'us' is no longer there
But that's ok..
The longing has left me
Now there is just a dull aching pain.
When you walked away
Without ever turning to say good bye
You left a hole in my soul
I never thought would fill.
Your hand print was
Forever engraved in my flesh
I hated you
For having branded me
With such a gentle touch.
After your leaving
Your for ever going away..
I've learned to laugh again.
I've learned to play.
I still dance under blossoms
I'm tasting raindrops again.
I'm mending myself.
I've found balm for my pain.
It's funny
How
In loosing you
I found a better me.
A stronger me has emerged
From the ashes you left me in.
A new me is rising
Like the sun on the horizon.
I'm loving to dance again
Under apple blossom trees.
Raindrops have begun to taste
Like sweet nectar to me.
poem by Rabia Minhas
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To a Blossoming Pear Tree
Beautiful natural blossoms,
Pure delicate body,
You stand without trembling.
Little mist of fallen starlight,
Perfect, beyond my reach,
How I envy you.
For if you could only listen,
I would tell you something,
Something human.
An old man
Appeared to me once
In the unendurable snow.
He had a singe of white
Beard on his face.
He paused on a street in Minneapolis
And stroked my face.
Give it to me, he begged.
I'll pay you anything.
I flinched. Both terrified,
We slunk away,
Each in his own way dodging
The cruel darts of the cold.
Beautiful natural blossoms,
How could you possibly
Worry or bother or care
About the ashamed, hopeless
Old man? He was so near death
He was willing to take
Any love he could get,
Even at the risk
Of some mocking policeman
Or some cute young wiseacre
Smashing his dentures,
Perhaps leading him on
To a dark place and there
Kicking him in his dead groin
Just for the fun of it.
Young tree, unburdened
By anything but your beautiful natural blossoms
And dew, the dark
Blood in my body drags me
Down with my brother.
poem by James Arlington Wright
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Varied Menu
Chicken and rice.
Fish and rice.
Rice and chicken.
Rice and fish.
Varied menu - 'ish!
Nice jungle place.
There's plenty of space.
Fresh clean air
But that dietary pair,
Fish or chicken
.....Not again!
So more trekking with a frown
Back to Georgetown.....
poem by George BernardBloodyShaw
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It's April I know
Apple blossoms dazzle in
Pink laced fancy dress
haiku by Dorothy Holmes (08 April 2008)
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Yvonne of Brittany
In your mother's apple-orchard,
Just a year ago, last spring:
Do you remember, Yvonne!
The dear trees lavishing
Rain of their starry blossoms
To make you a coronet?
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
As I remember yet?
In your mother's apple-orchard,
When the world was left behind:
You were shy, so shy, Yvonne!
But your eyes were calm and kind.
We spoke of the apple harvest,
When the cider press is set,
And such-like trifles, Yvonne,
That doubtless you forget.
In the still, soft Breton twilight,
We were silent; words were few,
Till your mother came out chiding,
For the grass was bright with dew:
But I know your heart was beating,
Like a fluttered, frightened dove.
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
That first faint flush of love?
In the fulness of midsummer,
When the apple-bloom was shed,
Oh, brave was your surrender,
Though shy the words you said.
I was glad, so glad, Yvonne!
To have led you home at last;
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
How swiftly the days passed?
In your mother's apple-orchard
It is grown too dark to stray,
There is none to chide you, Yvonne!
You are over far away.
There is dew on your grave grass, Yvonne!
But your feet it shall not wet:
No, you never remember, Yvonne!
And I shall soon forget.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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