Dreams of a place

Our political leaders fight for power while the little people continue to suffer. Our suffering seem endless but certainly our dreams have not expired and will give us the strength to walk on. How we get to where we want to go and what kind of PNG we want to see then is in our dreams and no one can steal it. So don't give up! Tireless hand (Time) continues and it is up to us to become agents for change, even if it means to suffer as we make our way slowly to that destination/PNG we would like to have.
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Did the play of mighty tongues,
Harass your wretched heart once,
Twice, then more than many times;
Then your dream haunts,
While, away tireless hand chimes?
  
Did the play of mighty tongues,
Your dream on a journey forces,
When the storms were unkind;
Then send it on unplanned courses,
On many a different wind?

I too have a heart broken,
With a dream restless and old;
That yearns to journey to a place,
Gentle whispers, us have told
Is full of wondrous grace.

Will you join me on a journey to this
Noble place without a name;
A name you and I would give,
While we play our own game
And live and let live?

But I can't promise a smooth trip;
Our dreams, our wrath will keep,
And our hearts will find a way.
We may all the way creep,
But surely we will not stray.

Let the rhythm of our hearts,
And song of a place without name,
Deliver us strength to sweat.
Getting there is our noble aim
And this we will not regret. 

Hey, did I see a flicker in your heart,
Through holes in the wretched one?
The flicker in my heart dance,
And though there’ll be no sun,
We surely will make our advance.

A place without name we seek;
We must not be meek;
A place without name we seek;
We must no be weak?
A place without name we seek.

A poet's quest

If humans were formed from dust, & poetry is human's meager attempt to reveal the beautiful or sublime; the beauty of this dust from which we originated from is unsurpassed -jmf   28 Nov 2011

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Once a man in his quest to be poetic,

Twisted and mingled words to find

Subtle beauty in meager arrangements.

At birth of day;

When the day was ripe;

At death of day;

Even when the night’s eye

Was sleeping, he searched

His dreams. Reaped them apart;

Turned them upside down and

Scribbled their charms on memory.

Only to find hosts of

Re-arranged clichés.

Exhausted, out loud he cried.

'Give me a drink of thesaurus, and

Cigars rolled in pages of a dictionary.

I'd be drunk with beautiful metaphors,

And be high with unusual rhymes that

Sing and dance. I’d sing along and

Sprightly dance that our voices may

Reach over vales and hills

Till my mind’s ink is drawn.

Yes! O yes, an echo on shelf

Lonely and dusty continues to sing.

On platforms or from behind silent corners,

I'd care not because, time …;

Would’ve dealt with me”.

Take away! This plateful! Cupful!

O fearless and ageless Prince

Conqueror of times; destroyer of many a kingdom

Absence of light is your majestic abode

Giver you are, to many a man such freedom!

And balance! To a crazy world is bestowed

Count the times upon you, I’ve called

For favours that emerged from my heart

Bare! I’d say, is your memory of my voice

And have I always in fear from you, part;

And tremble in reminiscence, then rejoice?

Do not with joy and a smirk, overlook;

O Prince of Sleep; my burdened heart!

Of your good nature, must I beg, although,

From this turmoil, certainly you’ll depart

This plateful! Cupful! This must go!

Seek! Wherever my heart rests, there

This plateful! Cupful! A rose without petals!

By my side, with a loud tongue; it’ll ever lay

Do not, of you I beg, hereby with it settle

Grab it! With a grip cold and be on your way

This plateful! Cupful! A rose without petals!

It I offer! Prince of Silence, you must know

Away from me! … In you arms must it crush

Crush it! Its odour, hide in your shadow

Then its remnants, into a wind must they rush

Or, This plateful! Cupful! A rose without petals!

Rusty sailless boat, on it, must it voyage south

Its journey; this journey! when and how it’ll end,

With a crimson eye, don’t inform, o shaky mouth;

Tired ears! Wailing! If they hear, will pretend

By: Jeffrey Febi          8th Tues Nov 2011

Look into those eyes

Look into those eyes!




Hi Jeffry, I only recently stumbled upon your FB page. I confess I was lost for words...you're truly gifted. After viewing all, I was touched by the current wall photo and felt the eyes were communicating with me. I thought I could hear her and what she wants to convey. I felt compelled that I wrote a poetry piece which I will post here. Though you painted for Bougainville, I think this wonderful painting can also represents the youthful PNG nation and all the dreams and hopes we have. See poem below!

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                                                                  Painting and picture by Jeffry Feeger

Look into those eyes

See those eyes; wide open staring at you;

They hold secrets, a thousand secrets

Lying bare on a vast ocean

Look into the gleaming eyes,

Do you see a thousand tales that beckon you?

O go ye, they are fair and life abound

Now do you see a thousand dancers,

Gaily dance in soothing breezes?

Do you hear a thousand songs from

Mountains misty to valleys beautiful,

And over dreaming seas?

Look again; deeply! into those eyes;

Do you see a thousand flames reaching out,

While dancing haphazardly?

And, do you hear a thousand cries, from

Mountains misty to valleys beautiful,

While the winds sweep the shores?

Do you see idle rocks sitting on shores,

And watch as waves in loud collisions crash,

Then echo across valleys until mountains,

And disappear into rain clouds?

Look into those eyes; do you see everything?

Poem by Jeffrey Febi and Picture by Jeffry Feeger

Wings of hope

A dedication to third level airlines in PNG.

Wings of hope

On their gentle wings,
Women and children fly.
And sickman eventually finds
Peace, healing and more.

O how they grace the skies,
And hope they bring to many
A forgotten soul who, under
Cloud cover and thick jungles
Speak of dreams of hope.

And gather in enthusiastic crowds,
With smiles the sun and the moon,
Can only hope for in their brightest.


Then their dreams fly,
Into clouds to sing to others who
Can hear and let their hearts beat.

To a disharmony that pervades
Many a fine land on cruel ridges,
In deep valleys and on lonely islands,
Where the sun and the moon
Mock day and night.

O these birds, sounds of technology
That grace our skies thru thick and thin;
Aren’t they our wings of hope?

I watched on the shore.

I watched as waves rushed, one after

the other to the shore as if to

escape from a prison deep and vast.

Breaking their anger and emptying

their frustrations in loud confusions.

Their frustrations of continuous

imprisonment in this vicious

cycle day and night.

Those who journeyed before, encouraged

by new wind journey again and again

on tired crests and troughs.

To together break their anger and

empty their frustrations.

What manner of respite would redeem

them from this stranglehold of the

ocean so deep and vast.

Not even the calmest of breeze

caressing the ocean's surface nor a

beautiful clear blue sky is appeasing.

To escape from deep and vast ocean

will take forever which none have.

And they continue day and night to

break their anger and empty their

frustrations on the shores where

idle and hardened rocks watch.

Leeches

This is a poem about those who steal from the public purse, go away and squander the money, then return to steal again; not even considering the impacts of their actions. Their are many out there.


Leeches! O leeches!
How they appear so placid;
Such smooth and idle things.

How they lay in wait, then
Spring upon them that wantonly walk,
Then coldly embrace.

Then suck! O they suck!
How they suck the life – the life!
And suck! And suck!

Full! they fade into seeming oblivion,
Then again how they appear innocent.
Such smooth and idle things.

They hear not cries, nor see tears,
But suck! O suck is all they know.

And when cries reach the sky above,
Would they hear and retreat?
These smooth and idles things!

Again they suck! such smooth
And idle things. How they
Appear so placid!