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.
-------------------




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

 --------------------------

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”.

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.