⊆ 1:30 AM by Pete
|
Picks
,
Poems
.
| ˜
the birds, the waves, the little people in the distance,the smells of the ocean, the sun, the ice-cream on your cheeksthe tingling on my fingers, as I dribble them awaythe sensual curves of your lips, and the promises they carryof brave adventures beyond the seathe smells of which, ride upon the promisesof more vanilla, chocolate or strawberrywhatever fits the day.
⊆ 9:11 PM by Pete
|
Cool Poems by Others
.
| ˜
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the sweet uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
- By Anonymous
⊆ 10:57 PM by Pete
|
Poems
.
| ˜
Listen to the song of the dirge, on his last string, the last rhythm Listen to the echoes of the valley of death, and the rhythmic chorus of your footfalls.Lament not the spring flowers, nor whispered winds of bright colors With a flick of a hand, you feel no more nor dream again A candle once burned, shall never be unburned. Will suffering mark your path,or will hope show the way?Will you journey in despair, or illuminate in enlightenment? But may you always be remembered, and may you always lovedMay the veil be lifted, and may you always be safe.
⊆ 1:41 AM by Pete
|
Poems
.
| ˜
Embedded, lies a broken formbeneath a sea of despondencyGone are his hopes for a better day,nor a meagre crumb of sympathyNo hands to show the wayNo light to set him freeEarned him what sin, to be seenin this flatland of misery?A daily scrape, an endless toil,beneath the barrel of societyDesperate pleas on both his knees,for trinkets we'll give for freeBut upon whose shoulders,
are to blame?For one so lost at sea?For is it not, as the saying goes,that Man shall earn his keep?And shall we not, but let it be,the pleas of one consignedBeneath this sea of despondencywhere no light shall set him free?
⊆ 8:23 PM by Pete
|
Poems
.
| ˜
Diligently
she stitches,and chips off
the bodiesof her childrenone bone
at a timeone skeletal frameat a timeLovingly
she paints,with broken fingersthat could barely twitchevery stroke
of the brushdipped
into the wounds
of her framemilkedby the catherters
of ConsumerismMade in China.
⊆ 1:58 AM by Pete
|
Poems
.
| ˜
O hear! The birds of divinityWord-bringers of the War GodO hear, the voice of a seekerof the tale of RentapScourge and savior of SarawakO hear the wails of the dying!Beneath plumes of smoke,and steel of menTo one side,fine warriors of the IbanTo the other,grand army of the Rajah,O hear the cries of the wounded!within the bowels of the jungle.O hear the shouts of fighting men,
and thundering hooves of infantry!
Clashing and cursing,
a morass of bodies in the mud
And among this cacophany,of gunpowder and steelStands a giant among menwhose name invokes the Battlerwhose sword feasts upon his enemiesRentap, the Battler,Warchief of the headhunters!The rage of his voice,shakes the foundations of the earth 'Agi idup agi ngelaban!For Death may breathe upon us, we fight!We fight to the last breath!'His mighty swings shatter his foes,beneath a hail of fallen headsThe headhunter king strikes,And strikes again!'Arise, you men!Against this army of traitors,Mercenaries of the Rajah!False king of Sarawak!Fight to the last breath,the War God is with us,We, children of Sarawak!''They seek our land for her richesThey seek to kill our people!They ally with our enemiesand turn brother against brother!They make light of the God of Warand laugh at our ancestors!They call me a scourge! A pirate!A brigand!They who judge me in their courts,cohorts of the White Rajah!''Arise, men! Fight to the last breath!Today you feel the fury of war!O glorious day for a battle!For when the day closes,you feast In Panggau LibauVictors!In the The Hall of Heroes!'
O hear the roars of the Chieftain,
You men!
Heed his call to arms!
Rally the defenses,
Defend the walls of your hill-fort
and bring out the monster,
Bujang Sadok, the Great Cannon!
Deliver your enemies
unto Sebayan,
The Underworld!
O glorious, this day for a battle!as foes clash and ebb awayThe sounds of steel awash the airThe ground bathed in bloodO, glorious the sound of the Great Cannon!That cracks across the sky,splitting apart the ranks of Ibanspilling forth their hill-fortO, glorious day for a battle!The scattering of Rentap's men crushedbeneath the Iron Boots of the RajahGlorious, the drenched bodies of defenders!Glorious, the roars of their Chieftain!
O, glorious day for a battle
for when the day was over,Rentap, the Battler,the scourge and savior of Sarawakshall have made his standand live on in the memoryof the children of Sarawak.
my poor attempt at 'epic' poetry, but i couldn't resist. agi idup agi ngelaban!
⊆ 9:43 PM by Pete
|
Picks
,
Poems
.
| ˜
Elegia eternia spins the World Axis,Burdened the back of Atlas' lot broken,Scarred the fissures of flippant war asunder,Deathly nuances of lies truth-flavored..Bleakness the hearts of sins men wicked,Driven the souls of minds wee humble,Severed the hopes of laments lost eternium,Forsaken the lives of ladies scarred loveless.
⊆ 11:18 AM by Pete
|
Picks
,
Poems
.
| ˜
Beyond the edges of misted memoryI began a journey laid before meAnd climbed the branches of life's great tree.
Entangled in this mass of humanity
I stumbled, bled, and slipped once too many To reach the top, many a man's destiny
Slowly and quickly,
I reached gently,
Or much to the contrary
For there were times when I was more than naughty
And broke a few branches, I don't disagree
With naught an acknowledgment or an apology
Twas for me such things be frivalty.
So I kept my focus, wasted not my energy
Until finally I could see, a sliver of hope that pierces free
Through darkness that seemed an eternity
And I reached, and I saw a massive sea
The horizons of which was not seen clearly
In the middle of which a ship sits lonely.
And the ship's captain saw me and shouted with glee
'Long have I waited', was his distant reply
to my distant and questioning eye
'Please be, come down from that tree, for you I must carry'
'To the planter of the tree that shall judge thee',
I knew naught he be a friend or an enemy
But this, I do know, another journey lay before me.
a brief one about the journey of life. i actually planned to write more, but sometimes you have to stop when your brain tells you to stop
⊆ 5:52 PM by Pete
|
Poems
.
| ˜
Sit closely, whisper softly,
For the tale I tell
The winds may carry
Into the ears
Of my subject matter.
Langsuir
Who is she?
By what graceless hand was she borne?
Borne of the terrible wrath of nature
Or the mischief of men?
Is she a creature
A beast or monster?
A human
Whose unfortunate guise
Makes her less than?
What is this thing
Whose countenace strikes dead the hearts of men
Whose bloodlust draws breath from her chosen ones
The one who feeds on body and soul
And leaves behind
Empty husks in the pale moonlight?
Sit closer
The campfire still burns
Good, good
Fear not the night's satin black
That blankets your faces
And blackens your features.
Do you hear
The rustling of leaves?
Careless, sharp,
Ravenous rubbings of leaven edges?
They say she roams
The trees
Swings
Looking down on her chosens
With ruby eyes of a hawk
Feasting on scarlet shadows
And when she strikes
Swoosh
Her gliding form
Descends as smoke
Into the belly of her chosens
And holds their faces
In her claws
For all the life of me
So terrible, so terrible
This thing
known as langsuir
The matianak, the pontianak
The vampire
Of local legends foretell
Under wooden huts
And campfires
Make no mistake
You who are here
Among closed ranks
Who hear my tale
And see my black features
Make no mistake,
Sit closer
Close ranks around me
For you'll never know
What lies atop
The treetops
Amongst you
You, who are here
You the ones with blackened faces
You scarlet shadows
You,
My chosens.
⊆ 8:22 PM by Pete
|
Picks
,
Poems
.
| ˜
We live in a world of SMSs,
Handphones, computers, television,
Information at our fingertips
All we wish at the push of a button...
We live in a world of instant recognition,
Fast-tracks to success a diploma away
Churns of certificates a booming production,
Produced as toys in a toy factory...
Yet are we enlightened, are we resolute?
What of struggle, the key to survival?
What of thinking, the cornerstone of civilization?
What of real conversations, of writing a letter?
What of empathy and compassion?
What of real grass, mud in our faces?
And if our gadgets, Insta-Recognition,
Shall make us less than human,
Then is Insta-Extinction..
At the push of a button?
⊆ 10:40 PM by Pete
|
Picks
,
Poems
.
| ˜
Upon this field of triumphs
A bell tolls its requiem
A homily for bravest souls
For whom Freedom
Was worth not coming home.
Upon these tombstone rows
Be names etched in Timeless Meadows
An eternal solitude enstoned
Within fond memories
Of proud families.
Upon the rising of each day
Blooms the flower of their legacy
A priceless gift adorned
Of courage and heart
And precious blood.
a tribute to fallen heroes. may their deeds never be forgotten
