Malaysiana - At the Kapit Jungle Produce Market
the chopped up boa
chunk and chunk
of floral leather
geometric design
of a forest digested
smooth and thinly oiled
each log is a thick
pinkish cold proof of life
the forest was a haven
for the boa that had slithered
its length and breath,
to come out a tough
and marvellous piece
of its habitat
the samba deer stares down
at its own cut out body parts
bleary eyed, otherwise as good as alive
its flesh is a bastion of robust health
tissues that like the boa's
had digested the forest
to reveal its magic forces
its oily shiny brown hair
with traces of yellow
is also a thick jungle of vigour
the animal though
is now chunk after chunk
of heartchilling flesh
soon to greet pots and pans of buyers
i coldly marvel at the ability
of the forest to give rise to
such an admirable velvety ecology
which sadly will be lost at the hands
of its reckless neighbours
people who despite warnings
from the heavens, continue to
snarl earth of its green
leaving patches and patches
of concrete jungles, polluted air and
a near ecological disaster
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
After The Killing
after the killing of his parents
shall the killer say
that he is an orphan
to be pitied?
after the cruelty
shall cruelty be understood
and be forgiven?
ask those who mourn
those who scream in pain
those who know not what humanity is all about
ask those who bury their dead
without names without faces without hands
without brains without intestines
ask those whose genitals were riddled with bullets
stained with the sperm of the monsters
ask those who cannot be silent anymore
perhaps there is reason for that tooth for a tooth
an eye for an eye
a chunk of flesh for another chunk of flesh
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Concrete Forest
Gang banging
Street banging
Concrete Forest—
People dying
Children crying
Bullets flying
No remorse for the fallen—
Crack smoking
Prostitute selling
Cops stinging
Benefactors of trouble times—
Blood
Guts—inside body parts
Cultivate the Concrete Forest—
I see a mother kneeling
A priest praying
A child victimize—a father convicted
All within the Concrete Forest—
Sirens blowing
Lights flashing
Someone else dying
In the Concrete Forest—
Mercy on us
Compassion for us
Deliver us
From the Concrete Forest—
Restore our hope
Destroy the trepidation
Breathe life back into Concrete Forest—
It is time to go
My time is gone
My nightmares—relinquished
Within the Concrete Forest—
No more worrisome days
No more stressful nights
Freedom has come to me
In the Concrete Forest—
My freedom is now
Your comes later
But, not in this Concrete Forest—
Written by
Gregory E Upshaw
poem by Gregory Upshaw
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Patches Of
patches of sunlight,
patches of clouds.
patches of Jesus,
patches of doubt.
patches of joy,
patches of pain.
patches of hope,
patches of strain.
patches of tomorrow,
patches of today.
patches of forever,
patches of 'cant stay'!
patches of loving,
patches of cold.
patches of youth,
patches of old.
patches of bravery.
patches of fear.
patches of happiness,
patches of tears.
patches of life,
patches of death.
patches of trying
with your last breath!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The magic forest
At the Bois de Boulogne lies magic
Magic that cannot be evitable
Magic that lures people into the evergreen forest
In the forest, soft earth is like a comfy bed
Meadows of grass are green sheets for the bed
If you happen to lie down on the bed
The sunlight hugs your body gently like a mother
Your eyes are heavy weights, unable to keep your eyes open
You fall into the sweetest dream as time goes by…
Night walked into the forest as day walked out of the forest
The pale moon is like a glass eye of a witch staring at you
The dark magic falls into the forest
Lusty monsters fill the magic forest
And the magic forest falls asleep…
Forgotten River
The forgotten river,
Lonely in the thick forest waitinf for your love;
The forgotten river,
Lovely and nicely prepared for your muse in the thick forest;
But, the big ship has now collided on the high seas! !
Maturiy of character,
Along the coast of Italy! !
But, it is an extraordinary thing that someone recommended for you;
For, i am the forgotten river in the thick forest.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Green Roads
The green roads that end in the forest
Are strewn with white goose feathers this June,
Life marks left behind by someone gone to the forest
To show his track. But he has never come back.
Down each green road a cottage looks at the forest.
Round one the nettle towers; two are bathed in flowers.
An old man along the green road to the forest
Strays from one, from another a child alone.
In the thicket bordering the forest,
All day long a thrush twiddles his song.
It is old, but the trees are young in the forest,
All but one like a castle keep, in the middle deep.
That oak saw the ages pass in the forest:
They were a host, but their memories are lost,
For the tree is dead: all things forget the forest
Excepting perhaps me, when now I see
The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest,
And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Those bare forests
When I was young, I had gone to this forest,
It was dark, deep and wild,
Like my youth it was full of resources,
I had spent few days there and had learned how the forest life is?
Forest life means survival of the fittest,
I could not find difference between city and forest,
In city too only the fittest can survive else the human who have wore the leather of lethal animal will not let the herbivore animal like us to live.
After twenty years struggling in the city and being tortured by children,
I returned back to the same forest to see its growth,
I could see it was bare, cut by poacher, deforesters,
It had not followed its own rule and the trees which it holds were all ageing like me,
We both were thrown out of the society it was thrown by cutting and I by my own sons.
I and it had the same fate bare with few more ageing hair and trees to be removed.
poem by Sambidhan Acharya
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Be With Those Who Help Your Being
Be with those who help your being.
Don't sit with indifferent people, whose breath
comes cold out of their mouths.
Not these visible forms, your work is deeper.
A chunk of dirt thrown in the air breaks to pieces.
If you don't try to fly,
and so break yourself apart,
you will be broken open by death,
when it's too late for all you could become.
Leaves get yellow. The tree puts out fresh roots
and makes them green.
Why are you so content with a love that turns you yellow?
Sarah's Deer Raindancer
Raindancer is a deer with fur as white as snow
she lives in the woods and doesn't mind the cold.
For Raindancer has gorgeous thick wavy hair
she is very fast and glides through the air.
Raindancer nibbles on berries her favorite color
she eats them up during the warmth of the summer.
Sarah Star knows Raindancer is very smart
Sarah's words comes directly from her heart.
Sarah loves to walk with Raindancer when it's warm,
Raindancer roams in Ferronian forest towards the north.
Raindancer will meet a lot of forest friends around here
all the animals of the Ferronian forest are in good cheer.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on January 8,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Into The Pool Of Death....
what is prohibited
i take an offensive stance
i go there alone
savor it
like a giant pizza
and barrels of coca cola
i drink the whole river
eat chunk by chunk a mountain
siphon the clouds inside my mouth
you are all shocked
this matter is unexpected of my
an honorable man
diving into a pool of death
an ocean of lapses
swimming with the whale
you do not understand
why i am doing all these
i satisfy myself
bore myself until i am full
and numb
and no longer anticipating
seeking
i triumph over sin
seeing it and no longer
amazed by it
there is no saliva coming
from my mouth
my tongue dislikes it
finally
my body dead to desire
my spirit now rules
transcends
climbs and flies into
the well sought
and illusive
heavens....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sarah's Deer Raindancer
Raindancer is a deer with fur as white as snow
she lives in the woods and doesn't mind the cold.
For Raindancer has gorgeous thick wavy hair
she is very fast and glides through the air.
Raindancer nibbles on berries her favorite color
she eats them up during the warmth of the summer.
Sarah Star knows Raindancer is very smart
Sarah's words comes directly from her heart.
Sarah loves to walk with Raindancer when it's warm,
Raindancer roams in Ferronian forest towards the north.
Raindancer will meet a lot of forest friends around here
all the animals of the Ferronian forest are in good cheer.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on January 8,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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On Your Wedding Day
it was time for the cake and the wine
the usual ceremony
like all weddings in our place
where everyone gets invited on a grand party
and there you are on your white suit
polished hair, shiny locks, the wedding ring now in your finger
the silver knife was handed
and you slice the chocolaty wedding cake with white icing laces
and some roses and tiny leaves
you sliced a big chunk and with a plate and fork
you handed it to her mouth
she was confused how to swallow such a big chunk
but she managed just the same
to take it
she did not ask you to divide it into smaller pieces
but how she wished
you were kind enough to do it for her
then the wine
the cork was too tight and then it was opened
your again poured much
more than half the glass and your arms entwined
you hand her
and she was obliged to drink that much
she whispered
it was too sweet and she did not like it
she wanted the usual wine
sour and sweet and a little bit bitter
and then yes the doves
you were not gentle in taking them out from the cage
held them too tight
and without taking any cue from her
you released your dove ahead adn she was again confused
and even slighted
a big chunk, a very sweet wine, doves that did not fly together
it was not just me who noticed it, some people who saw
what happened did not talk about it
now, the town is making a guess
whether you marriage will last
whether the pattern in your broken family shall not be repeated
your brother, your dad, your sister
they now live separately from his wife, from your mother, from her husband
but who knows, you will be the last to stand up
the last of the mohicans, the movie that you have not watched yet
but soon you will
because from there you must take your important cue
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Romance
MY Love dwelt in a Northern land.
A gray tower in a forest green
Was hers, and far on either hand
The long wash of the waves was seen,
And leagues on leagues of yellow sand,
The woven forest boughs between!
And through the silver Northern night
The sunset slowly died away,
And herds of strange deer, lily-white,
Stole forth among the branches gray;
About the coming of the light,
They fled like ghosts before the day!
I know not if the forest green
Still girdles round that castle gray;
I know not if the boughs between
The white deer vanish ere the day;
Above my Love the grass is green,
My heart is colder than the clay!
poem by Andrew Lang
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Like A Prostitute
Why are you dressed up like a prostitute towards me tonight?
For your feet were never at home when i visited;
And what i heard was that,
All the men around played with your breasts.
You seduced them with your smooth words and,
You are almost naked in your clothes tonight;
But i will walk away alone through the thick forest and,
Through the dark forest to save my name tonight!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Nowhere To Be Seen
The flying bird is up high in the sky to take a view,
But my lover is nowhere to be seen;
So take a message to my lover if you find her,
For in the thick forest i rest my head.
The green vegetation is around me and the blue sky above me!
Oh, how i hope that you would find her;
For this thick forest is my lonely place,
But maybe this flying bird could find her one day.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Tree's Winter Cloak of White
Tree's winter cloak of white dressing done
Surviving rays of a cold hazy sun,
Like soldiers in line, strong tall held fast
Roots grip mother earth's soil to last,
Icicles glint on perches empty state,
Leaving squirrels in trunks cosy and warm, as
Deer tarry in the forest glade, no rest since dawn.
With body clocks this spring in time will keep
Dormant leaf buds stay moist with dew to seep,
By magic the beautiful tree purifies the air to breathe
By those with luck that the dead axe men did leave.
Stretched branches silent wisdom tending mother earth's cool
With Centuries passed man's brain wakes to the logging fool,
Is the animal cry in the forest of the night
A call to all living things spelling their plight.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Embroidery
Embroidery of the forest
On to the fields of time
The wings of gray achiest
All in their grayness prime
Of dreams that once were
In the moments like drift
When summertime was near
In ways of its open whiffed
Foliage of winter falling
Thru steps of time’s thread
When gloom shades are calling
In tints of their brownish red
And day is shorter becoming
In each their light of rise
On earth open blossoming
That to the winter cold dies
Draperies of their burgeon lay
That fetches old rustic bled
When the forest murky play
Its wilderness meadows bed
Oh forest my old trail forest
In all the traditions you hold
Once proud habits of the florist
Now‘s in ashen winter’s cold
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Cycles Of Light
For just a little longer
reside I in a familiar
foreign land of human
resource grabbing aspirations,
as I write
out last
dreamscapes,
praising
pristine forest
beauty in call
of conservation,
as land rape
earth rape
swift plunder
reap
human
potentialities
destinies.
The Totara spirit
stands in native forest,
forgotten
in termite cities,
unadored unfelt
unknown unthought
of unseen unappreciated
from birth
earth
forest floor,
spirit guardian
last
to kiss sunset
yellow golden
dusk
eclipse rays,
first
to welcome
embrace
creeping
golden
fingers
of dawn light,
where will
your flesh skin
bark reside
tomorrow,
for if mighty
Totara falls
who will sentential
greet honour
glory life
cycles of light?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Napoleon had been fighting this army of slaves and free people in Haiti and it depleted his forces. And after the Revolution, when the French were driven out, they stopped and sold this big chunk of North America to the Americans for very little money.
quote by Edwidge Danticat
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I LOST A GEM.(part 1)
I lost a gem
too young to be deceived i was
that after the last days he shall rise
Hm! truly i lost a gem
i lost a gem
repeating the word mama
but none to call pa
now i know i lost a gem
i lost a gem
time now for him to see
me taking my pallet to walk
now his no more, i lost a gem
i lost a gem
whose place took a chunk in my heart
night needs night for me to collapse my theprapy
that truly, he cant be so important, i lost a gem
i lost a gem
but nevertheless am strong
taking the bull by the horn
if that is the cure of his therapy
at the underground world he use to plough
when he was man alive
definately i will sugar-colt his heart
to see that his left over ten
has made him alive.
poem by Mimiko moruf oluwakayode
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