What do we see in the faces of our babies?

That which, alone in babies' eyes
Sparkle like the evening star in a
Vacant sky, and dance on lips
Smoother before naked gums.

That which, in their voices
Summon hearts to a sprightly
Dance in their bony graves.

That which, in subtle
Manifestations, our
Inheritances parade that on
High as long white clouds
We fly.

Wherever else would a thing
So pure but in faces of our
Babies be found?

Wonderful! is it not; that in their
Angelic lights selfishly we bask?
O! Heaven such grace bestowed
That we might a bit of it taste.


By: Jeffrey Febi     Thursday, 10 2010

O grieve!

And he who stands
by the pole on the mount
and laugh, the same 
shall crawl under the pole
on the mount and grieve.

I was lowered into solitary

I was lowered into solitary;

Perfumed and robed in fine linen

Though my journey has ended,

And the sun ran from me;

Still, who'd my perfume like

And my attire admire;

When only I would inhabit?

Darkness here would be imprisoned,

And silence would be without life!

Perhaps, to decay I'd plead

For time, that I may in my attire

Rest well before I yield my identity.

O maggots! Maggots! Must I,

Remind you all to spare my brain;

Even in this dark lonesome,

Beauty, I’d still want to perceive.

This poem was first published in the Writers Forum of The National Weekender and on PNG Attitude (asopa.typepad.com)

The risen dead shall die

Died then by the house, about many moons back;
Then rose he, rejuvenated and ever stronger,
And death with his creepy claws fled yonder.
O a great man indeed, who by the pole now stands
Atop the hill near the house Tumbuna understands.

Then death returns with a vengeance;
Confronting many a wise men who'd flee.
And neither dread nor hope will surely be
There, when he who'd died & rose then created
This certain death, shall be resoundingly negated.


By: Jeffrey Febi 16 Mar 2011

Do you hold a dream?

Do you hold a dream;

Which over mountains cold,

And valleys dark dreams;

Then how feeble it appears?

Many a pillow men make

From many a dream feeble;

That kindles, pauses, then

Re-kindles to hope anew.

Do you hold such dream still,

Which in oceans deep live

And on hurrying currents sail;

Thereupon weakly labours

To a glimmer flicker?

O feeble! feeble dream!

Graves are storehouses!

For feeble dreams

Endless rows await!

Do you hold a feeble dream?

By: Jeffrey Febi

This poem was published in the Writers Forum of The National then on PNG Attitude (asopa.typepad.com).

If you dream, don't just dream. Action your dream that you may be satisfied.

SONS OF PAPUA NEW GUINEA

How they've increased who troubled her!
And gaily laughed and danced on despair!
Over mountains, vales & seas how they sing
Of menaces more together they will bring.
Many are her sons who’ve taken up arms
To fight & protect her worthy charms
In open & in secret. With willing blood!
Her worthy son in embrace will ever flood
Every portal of they who court doom.
O how they strategise from a prickly gloom!
For respite her worthy sons will ever seek.
Yes! No help may come; they're not meek.

This poem was first published in the Writers' Forum of the National Weekender  then on asopa.typepad.com

Coffee

In many a land well-favoured, crowds
They stand to proclaim their renewals.
And invite bees onto many a pearly stage,
Then yellow their limbs with their jewels
As bees in hype and gaily dances engage.

Some begin to bow under jovial loads,
As green gold replace many a pearly stage.
This transformation, bees send to hive
With gentle persuasion to kindly disengage.
Then days of colour prepare to revive.

O! masses upon masses, more beautiful,
Load grey brown branches. And between
Weary green leaves, paint them shiny red.
O red! pleasant red! a signal to convene;
Hurry! please hurry! or they will shed!

And men, women and children convene
With excitement and many a gaily song,
Under weary branches to lighten a load.
And then for many an happy hour long,
Bags after bags and more they overflowed.


By: Jeffrey Febi         18 Dec 2010


This poem was first published on dreamzmedia.wordpress.com, then on soabasstoryboard.blogspot.com. Edited versions were published in the Writers' Forum of The National Weekender and on asopa.typepad.com.