A Day In Summer
perhaps only some of you
knew what really happened
things that we did
at the prime of our youth
the one at the river was not true
neither was the one at the cogon grasses
the rumors were too advanced
and bent like a misshapen twig
perhaps this time you must have known
what joys we shared
picking ripe mangoes on that huge tree
at the foot of the hill
we drove no monkeys away
and no monkeys did give us any bother
the mangoes were too juicy
too ripe for our hands
too fragile for our wantonness
we never brought you any.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On this silly hill
On this silly hill I remember the silly things
That we did
We were so young and we decided to pick
Some ripe mangoes on this silly
Isolated hill away from
Our teasing
Silly friends
And I really liked her a lot
My heart was trembling
Her heart too quivering
We felt we like each other
Feelings like hot chili
Heating our ears
We said we love each other
We promised to love each other
Till the end of days
And so I climbed the mango tree
And picked the most luscious
Delicious mangoes as may be gleaned
From their color and shape
Thinking all the best for her
That I could give
To her
I put all the mangoes in my shirt
And I was silly looking silly like a tray to her
And she picked them one by one
Near my chest lower to my tummy
Nearer to my bulge
I was breathless
As she took more
Ripe mangoes from me
Slowly
Gracefully
Peeling with her mouth and tongue
Licking the yellowish pulp
And she said the mangoes were all
So sweet smelling and delicious
Like me
She was craving
She was raving
I was simply receptive
Giving in
All
To what she wanted
She touched my heart and we were silly
On our teens we did
What married people did on this silly hill
Isolated from silly friends
We did something adventurous
We had something marvelous
We did all those silly things
Like wild horses
In nature’s ways
Galloping
Breath taking
The years passed and now I am reaching fifty
Looking back I remember the silly things that we
Young silly people on our early teens did on this silly hill
We went and parted and she married the right man for her
I too went my own separate direction, taking a wife on my own
Looking back,
I feel sad,
I feel happy
What we silly teeny people did which we think was silly
Was all done in the name of pure love so endless
We were all virgins in love & we all thought of nothing else
Love and love and love
The mango was a symbol also of love
The silly hill was the seat of love
The mango tree was a climb of love
The isolation was all in the name of love
The whole was but love’s marvel
Love’s adventure
Love and love and love was all that we had
All love and love
Pure love
Unmixed untainted unblemished unadulterated
And they think it was silly
And I once thought it was silly
On that silly hill remembering the silly things we did
The silly things we said and promised
We did not talk about money, politics and family strategy
We did not bother about inheritance, a family name, a community reputation
We were not told whom to marry and when and always why.
Love can be developed and marriage can always be arranged
That to me are the silly things that we people do to ourselves.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Sound Of Children
it is their sound that makes
this world lovable still
under the mango tree
when the wind starts to blow
when the ripe mangoes fall
to the ground and the children
starts to scramble for their
share of the ripe ones.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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More Fun Than A Barrel Of Monkeys
there are multiple questions pertaining to the concept,
'more fun than a barrel of monkeys.'
how big is the barrel?
how many monkeys are we talking about?
how big are the monkeys? Are we talking spider monkeys, chimps, baboons or what?
Are the monkeys old or young and where's the barrel, inside or outside?
If you leave the monkeys in the barrel, you got a problem:
they'll die in their own excrement,
if you lift the lid and let them out,
they might kill you.
a monkey can rip out your eyes, is that fun?
monkeys, leaping and running around the house, can do a lot of damage, is that fun?
monkeys are dirty, so... what exactly do you consider fun?
what's it going to be like trying to get the monkeys back in the barrel?
would that be fun?
what would the neighbors think of you, if you released the monkeys into their yards?
what happens if the police gets involved?
it could mean everything imaginable is more fun than a barrel of these animals.
maybe even more fun than a barrel of human beings.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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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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The Smartest Monkeys
Well man created the cardboard box to sleep in it
And man converted the newspaper to a blanket
Well you have to admit that hes come a long way
Since swinging about in the trees
Were the smartest monkeys
The smartest monkeys
The evidence is all around
Our brains are bigger
This weve found
The smartest monkeys
Well man discovered the park bench can make a transition
And the rubbish tip makes a valid form of nutrition
With discoveries like these
Civilisation agrees
To give itself a pat on the back
Were the smartest monkeys
The evolutions plain to see
Were the dominant of the species
The smartest monkeys
We brought the caveman from the stoneage
To the subways of the modern world
How they pack so many in
Quick call the guinness book of records
Well you have to admit...
Were the smartest monkeys...
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ripe Mangoes
My mouth is just watering
For the ripe mangoes,
The salesman is bargaining!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Gloom And Doom
it was when your excitement was only the strong wind from the forest
the ripe mangoes fall for
you to pick them up
you run for excitement, the thrill of ripe fruits falling to your hands
it was when your sadness was only about a failing grade
on a math quiz
it was when your happiness was the carabao ride
from your nipa hut to the public school
it was when your sweet face was kissed by your mama
your hair caressed by a friend
simple memories
it was when your escape was the plunge in the river
with your naked friends
it was when your conversations are about fairies and princesses
and frogs and lost shoes
it was when the coolness was the thick grasses spreading
on the plains
it was when joy was the playing and bathing under the rain
on the month of November
now these changes have made things more complicated
people are hard to deal with and
a self that is deeper, darker
and difficult to really understand
now there are more severances, dreams that do not come true
failures keep coming, alienation of the self, the soul from the body
reverses, and uncertainties, longer nights,
without the stars,
a moon covered by thick clouds,
the heavy rain promising another big flood
gloomy crystal balls, smokes of fire, and
misfortunes of the mind
that earthquake is not the last.
when will this bad karma ever end?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Monkeys Must Know What's Good For Them
Monkeys do mind,
How a banana peels.
And how that's done,
To quicken the taste.
Why bananas do appeal,
And not coconuts?
I had not seen this spoken.
Or discussed in a fuss.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
Monkeys do mind,
How a banana peels.
And how that's done,
To quicken the taste.
Why bananas do appeal,
And not coconuts?
I had not seen this spoken.
Or discussed in a fuss.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
Stripping exotic trees,
Of fruit they leave.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we,
Unfortunately...
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And,
We...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we,
Unfortunately...
Are not monkeys.
Monkeys must know what's good for them.
But we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What You Will Miss Here
sinugbang tuloy in sicayab beach.
tuba laloy in the local market.
smooth ripe mangoes.
raw mangoes dipped in ginamos.
the spanish sardines of the montano's
the bibingka
puto cheese. dinuguan.
san mig beer and pulutan of pork pata.
smooth to the throat is the tanduay rhum
asia's best.
a stroll at the boulevard.
seeing the sun set there.
early morning walks at the plaza.
hearing the church bell ring.
a call to prayer.
the sound of the motorcabs on market day.
a hideaway in the farther hill.
early morning chill.
visiting the grave of your mother and father.
getting to know new nephews and nieces.
meeting old classmates and reminiscing
those high school days.
you were so thin and dark and naughty.
you're great now, with your white hair as crown.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My little playful monkeys
My little monkeys in the forest are all funny
As usual they jump from vine to vine
And fall and rise, and fall from river to river,
My little monkeys with little tails with little
Mouths and tiny baby-like hands, they wink
And play and chase and run and almost like bats
Flying from top to top of treetops from branch
To branch to twigs to twigs, all these cute
Little monkeys so playfully playful in the forest,
In my mind, I play with all of them throughout
The day, till noon, till afternoon, till nights even,
But no, when darkness comes, these cute little
Monkeys all return to bigger higher trees where
Their big monkey-mothers and big-monkey-fathers
Wait and care for them and all hide them in their arms.
And I am all left alone, like little Tarzan boy in an empty cave
feeling so deserted and betrayed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Green Bananas
Does anyone eat green bananas?
then why have them in the stores?
By the time you think of eating one ripe!
they're full of fruit flies, in the hundreds or maybe more!
My husband loves green bananas
he says, cause they're solid and much more flavorful.
I think they taste kind of green and bitter
with every green and bitter mouthful!
I wonder if monkeys eat them green?
Or do they also wait until they're ripe?
Just peeling them when they're green
leaves those long stringy things of white!
I've taken to freezing mine now
in plastic bags, for my daily protien shakes!
Now I don't have to worry about the ones that turn black!
From the green ones that I wouldn't take!
poem by Linda Winchell
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Eating On Top Of The Mango Tree
it makes a difference if i eat
the fruits from the very tree where they
are hanging
i sit on top between the twigs
with the bunches of ripe mangoes touching my cheeks
you pick just one and take
a little bite
suddenly you are full
you think you are done
the blue clouds within your
reach has helped your hungry hands
==============================
Sa ponoan sa mangga
Lahi baya ang mokaon ka og
Lanzones sa taas sa iyang ponoan.
Tapad sa imong aping ang
Mga pungpong.
Mokuha ka ug usa ka buok
hinog nga mangga
Busog na ka kaayo
Sa kaanindot nga pagburot sa mga panganod.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Monkeys
and after he cut the grasses
plowed the farm and planted
it all with corn
the monkeys simply watch
and keep on playing
on the branches of the trees,
and when
the corn grew and showed
their big ears and
golden hair,
there and then the monkeys
came and made their claim.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Swing of Memories
Hurrying through the crowded city lanes
On one fine sunny day
Lost in my worries
About various this & that
I saw a swing in a nearby park
Surrounded by playful kids
Basking in the sunshine
For one second I was back in time
Swinging with my friends
Lost in careless chatter which
Rhymed with the tinkling of our glass bangles
We were racing against the wind
In our long wooden swing
Hanging beneath the branches of
Benevolent old mango tree
Munching ripe golden mangoes
Shared by squirrels & birds
Relishing each moment of our childhood
Now I am back to present
Childhood long gone
I won't regret
About not being among the kids
It’s their time to enjoy
I have my swing
My swing of memories
To swing always
poem by Ammus Sreeraj
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The 3 Monkeys
Three little monkeys, they played about,
Doing all sorts of things, till their mother did shout;
If you don't stop this misbehaving, you'll go to bed,
All this playing up, is giving me a pain in my head.
Three little monkeys, would play hide and seek,
When they heard a secret, they'd be a sticky beak;
Sometimes they'd run away, till their mother called them back,
,
If you three keep playing up, you'll go to bed with a smack.
It reminds me of us children, when I was young growing up,
And mum told us to behave, we'd act like a naughty pup;
But! Most times I remember the great times we did play,
And when it was a holiday, we'd go somewhere to stay.
Yes! It wasn't all bad for those monkeys, those three,
And growing up, there were great times as well for me;
I thank my Mother, as I'm sure the monkeys do too,
Cause a mother can only take so much, oh yes! This is true.
poem by Margaret Haig
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In the Fruit and Veg
Knocking you listen
to the sound
that a watermelon makes
to test if it is ripe
and I wipe the smile form my face,
trying to look sincere
and the whole of Fruit and Veg is filled
with shoppers, adoring ripe fruit and vegetables
crowding around some places with special offers
like a great vast congregation
gathered in the temple of a god
and tonight you will again
make your great fruit salad
with chopped and sliced mangoes,
papaw, sweet melon, some squeezed orange juice
and grapes
and maybe this afternoon
we will eat the watermelon
in the shade next to the swimming pool.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Happy Poem
a little boy free from mama's hold
to the backyard with his marbles
shooting them in the holes then
he calls his friends and hides
in the bushes where he cannot be found
to the hills he catches his dragonflies
he climbs and gathers ripe mangoes
he goes to the river with his peers
catches fish and jumps to swim
you hear him laugh and sing
till it is dark he thinks of home
his hot soup and dinner
then his mother kisses him
tells him stories and then he soundly sleeps
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Some say that AIDS came from the monkeys, and I doubt that because we have been living with monkeys from time immemorial, others say it was a curse from God, but I say it cannot be that.
quote by Wangari Maathai
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Magnetic Pulls
Women are beehives hanging from tree top.
Men are lame monkeys, expecting dripping.
Beehives not yielding, monkeys not climbing,
A width is maintained for magnetic pull.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sharp Knife
come to me as if you are a basket
full of luscious, juicy, sweet mangoes
and i will come to you as though
i am one sharp knife with all slices of
dreams in my hollow head
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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