25 November 2008
19 November 2008
The main road
lies across the foot
of this fall,
where the schoolchildren
walk and the vehicles drive.
they will dive down
and clean out
13 November 2008
firm red wax calyx
Old rum bottles
sparkle clean washed glass
11 November 2008
by Robert Louis Stevenson. 'Travel" was one of my favourites , who could guess that I would live in the land " where the golden apples grow." ? A.A. Milne, "When we were very young" still speaks volumes to me. Poetry is? Our voice, our expression, our values, our human connection.
Two things, connected with poetry, caught my attention today. The first was the always excellent post by Ms Baroque who enlightened me with regard to the entertainment, diversion, solace and courage that some of the troops, during WW1, experienced. The second is present day and reminds us of the power of words and the price to be paid, in this case, a love poem, addressed to those hearts that will remain, forever, deaf to the poet in all of us.
Ar rin bek ka pyaw dair
(Aaron Beck, the psychiatrist, said)
Nar nar khan sah dat hma khan sah hma
(Only if you know how to suffer painfully)
Yoo yoo moo moo go phyit nay hma
(Only if you are crazy – crazy )
Kyi myat tet a noot pyinnya lo
(Can you appreciate a great work of Art)
Hmoo hmoan hmaing way zay det dat poan model ma lay yay
(Dear little photomodel who makes me dizzy)
Kyi daunk kyi mah kya hma a thair kwair det yawgah det
(They say it is a broken liver disease, a great and terrible one) [note: broken heart in Burmese is usually expressed as a broken liver]
Than baung myah zwa thaw chit tat thu myah
(Millions of those who know how to love)
Shwe a teet cha hta thaw let myah phyint let khoak tee yway yair bar
(Laugh and clap those gold-gilded hands)
10 November 2008
3 November 2008
Six a.m. the cattle egrets, on their nocturnal perch, preen.
Satisfied with plumage preparations the flock departs,
simultaneously receiving runway clearance,
dispersing towards, separate, bovine assignations.
Come dusk, their appetites for parasites satisfied,
the egrets, in elegant ghostly flight, leave
high hillside garden pasture cow pens,
descend in formation, settle back to the wire.
1 November 2008
Being downstairs, where the house is of wall, the reply is muffled. T shouts again, " How much for it?" The van pulls up on the road above our house. The conch shell calls loud, loud, loud. T takes the bowl and returns with two pounds of Rock Hind and a smile as big as if he had caught them himself. "When last girl?"
With thanks to Guyana Gyal for the inspiration.
Read about the famous Gouave Fish Friday.