bamboo grove
row and row of
uprightness
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Related quotes
He was burned, so he ran into the bamboo grove, but the grove caught fire.
Bamboo Tunes and Cat Eyed Girl
In the murmuring evenings,
Cat eyed girl, worn ear-rings,
Stands by bamboo cluster,
Putting down pots of water.
Gilded bamboos sing and sway,
And the tired path becomes gay.
Bamboo hearts throb ever;
Unnamed tunes cease never.
Her bamboo throes resounded
In the gloomy wind unbounded.
Melodies of earth does shower
On her soul that does hover.
Finger tip of the wind brings
Sweet tunes from bamboo strings.
Music enters her inner grove,
Where the forlorn dreams rove.
Cuddled bamboos swing and say
What the lovers failed to say.
Never dying natural music
So keeps her hopes rhythmic.
poem by Fabiyas M V

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The winter storm
The winter storm
Hid in the bamboo grove
And quieted away.
poem by Matsuo Basho

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Moonlight slanting
Moonlight slanting
through the bamboo grove;
a cuckoo crying.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho

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Bamboo Adobe
I sit along in the dark bamboo grove,
Playing the zither and whistling long.
In this deep wood no one would know -
Only the bright moon comes to shine.
poem by Wang Wei, translated by Liu Wu-chi

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Bamboo Bimbo
Well he caught his first whiff in the jungles
Ofnam
That slant-eyed catfish tasted better than mom
Now every single night she drops her big bomb
Cause hes a bamb00 bimbo
Those hook marks really show
Cause hes a bamboo bimb0
He went for it now everyone knows
Hes a bamboo bimb0
He caught his first glance in field and stream
That salt water taffy was a fishermans
Wet dream
Now every single night hes still gettin
That big ream
Cause hes a bamboo bimb0
He fell it and everyone knows
Hes a bamboo bimbo
Just a monkey with a ring in his nose
Hes a bambo0 bimbo
Cant say I never told ya so
Hes a bamboo bimb0
It go on and on and on
song performed by by Devo

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Retreat.....
AFTER You say the
truth, when the other merely
gives you nothing
but that
silly laughter
you shrink back into
a nook
becoming a creek
winding your way
back
under the
bamboo grove
Before you finally
recede into a thin surface of
sand
you take a glimpse of the
sky
to take the much needed
look of
the moon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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On the Lake (1)
Mountain monks facing chess sit
Board on bamboo dark quiet
Shine bamboo no person see
Sometimes hear down chess piece sound
Two monks sit facing, playing chess on the mountain,
The bamboo shadow on the board is dark and clear.
Not a person sees the bamboo's shadow,
One sometimes hears the pieces being moved.
The bird sleeps in the bamboo grove
It is night.
The moon glows above the grove. There is another moon too in the pond.
The stars too glow, scattered all over the expansive sky.
It is a cool night.
The bird is asleep.
The bird rests on a bamboo branch with thick leaves.
And the night whispers to the bird:
'sleep gentle soul
that sings for delight;
sleep kind heart
that nature fashioned;
sleep while sister moon watches over you
sleep while the stars bless you
with starlight, starlight;
O sleep gentle soul
that sings for delight
sleep all night
in bamboo embrace'
poem by Raj Arumugam

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And I Always Keep The Distance?
I remember one day you're standing
with an umbrella in a drizzle at the long dreamy bridge?
And the secret river of love flowed quietly.
It's a Moonlit night and I was not quite sure
Either you, Moon or someone else
danced with ripples?
Let me say again please
That I was the poor river bank
Under the lonely Bamboo grove
And I always keep the distance?
to John Nebaza who's from Uganda!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Sestina: A bird in the bamboo
The potter carried home a broken plate
and passing through a grove of tall bamboo,
some thing within disturbed the verdant sheen.
Intrigued, he stopped awhile to rest and wait.
A bird shot skyward, straight as arrow true,
turned somersaults and plunged back into green.
The bird had left the safety of the green,
to see from high the land as coloured plate.
An overview, to give perspective true.
Imprint in mind a map of home's bamboo
and then to hide and rest in patient wait,
before an insect hunt by thin moon's sheen.
The potter's wife delighted in the sheen,
of jagged shards of crackle-glazed jade green.
With supper not quite ready, while he wait,
he set about to mend the shattered plate.
When laid beside their wares of plain bamboo,
it's beauty shone and both declared this true.
The potter was perfectionist, it's true,
who long had strived to replicate the sheen,
of leafy shades of celadon bamboo.
One day, the kiln revealed translucent green.
The pottery's proud owner chose a plate,
as gift to Empress, hopeful then to wait.
Official staff with retinue in wait,
by Emperor's decree paid tribute true.
A portered chair arrived of fine gold-plate,
to honour maker of such lovely sheen.
Asway, the potter turned a sickly green
and gripped the shouldered poles of stout bamboo.
In city, thoughts returned to tall bamboo
and how it seemed the bird could hardly wait,
to fly back home within the dappled green.
The potter's mind was strong, his heart was true.
He learned of commerce, trade and coin's sheen,
but dreamt of home and wife and mended plate.
Back home, at last, amongst the green bamboo,
rich plate collectors, clothed in silken sheen,
confirmed that true rewards are worth the wait.
poem by Diane Hine

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Us
The river in you moves
Taking the least resistance
You shall be the water
That seeks your own level
In calm and still moments
Let me fish
In your moments of rage
I shall be the rock
In the moments of your dryness
I shall be the river bed nearby
We shall be always here
I shall be the bamboo grove
And you shall be the waters of the creek
Slowly passing, gently flowing by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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342
The river in you moves
Taking the least resistance
You shall be the water
That seeks your own level
In calm and still moments
Let me fish
In your moments of rage
I shall be the rock
In the moments of your dryness
I shall be the river bed nearby
We shall be always here
I shall be the bamboo grove
And you shall be the waters of the creek
Slowly passing, gently flowing by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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In Any Form Of Endearment
The river in you moves
Taking the least resistance
You shall be the murky one
That seeks your own level of murkiness
In calm and still moments
Let me fish for once
In your moments of rage
I shall be the rocky gauge
In the moment of your dryness
I shall be the river bank nearby
We shall be always here in any form
I shall be the bamboo grove one day
And you shall be the cool river again
gently flowing by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Separations
Tonight my wife shall watch the full moon
Alone over the hills in Katipunan
I think sadly though of her
Too young to understand this sudden separation
Remembering once again our love in Cagayan
In fragrant mist, her black hair is damp
In the clear moonlight, her hands are cold
In the distant mountain of Tabon
I lean over this bamboo grove
While the moonlight tries to dry some tears
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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241
Tonight his wife shall watch the full moon
Alone over the hills in Marupay
He will think sadly though of her
Too young to understand this sudden separation
Remembering once again their love in Cagayan
In fragrant mist, her black hair was perfumed
In the clear moonlight, her hands were cold
In the distant mountain of Tabon
She leans over this bamboo grove
While the moonlight tries to dry some tears
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Bamboo is not a weed, it's a flowering plant. Bamboo is a magnificent plant.
quote by Steve Lacy

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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China Groove
When the sun comes up on a sleepy little town
Down around San Antone
And the folks are risin' for another day
'Round about their homes
The people of the town are strange
And they're proud of where they came
Well, you're talkin' 'bout China Grove
Oh, China Grove
Well, the preacher and the teacher
Lord, they're a caution
They are the talk of the town
When the gossip gets to flyin'
And they ain't lyin'
When the sun goes fallin' down
They say that the father's insane
And dear Missus Perkin's a game
We're talkin' 'bout the China Grove
Oh, China Grove
But every day there's a new thing comin'
The ways of an oriental view
The sheriff and his buddies
With their samurai swords
You can even hear the music at night
And though it's a part of the Lone Star State
People don't seem to care
They just keep on lookin' to the East
Talkin' 'bout the China Grove
Oh, China Grove
song performed by by Doobie Brothers

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovely, Lovely, Lovely Memories
By an old river beside a bamboo grove
She bathes herself
Only the bamboo leaves hinder
Your view of her long black hair
As she splashes naked in the
Clear River.
Lovely 2
There is a nipa hut on the side of a hill
You meet her when it is dark
She lights your cigar
As you get near her
You decided to smoke later
Lovely 3
You are rocking yourself on a rattan hammock
On a late afternoon when the rest go home
It is Saturday
She stays
You watch her come near you giving you something
She says it is the key to her room and she is all alone tonight.
Lovely 4
The cogon grasses have grown tall & thick on the hillside
Both of you hide in there
Nobody sees you
The tall cogon grasses dance wildly to the slow wind
Lovely 5
Four years in the university studying chemistry
You return home finally
You embrace your old mother meeting you by the door
Outside you see the guava tree filled with its ripe yellow fruit odor
So heavily laden like a big Christmas tree
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Huckleberry Grove
Shirley was a lady whose teeth were made of gold
She danced before the music and everything it told
Huckleberry Grove
Where the music plays into tomorrow night
Huckleberry Grove
Only fools would need to argue or to fight
Shirley had eight children and each of them were told
You got joy for singing burning in your soul
Huckleberry Grove
Where the idiots can't ease you of your mind
Huckleberry Grove
Take a free train
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene from B-Sides: Seasides & Freerides

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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