Easter gift for PNG?

April 9, 2012 

We all have heard of the phrase ‘blessing in disguise’, haven’t we? And often we see the fruits of this blessing sometime later. Then we would reflect on and comment either positively or negatively as per the results.

The way of men is to react to situations. And sometimes, instead of rectifying a problem we contribute towards its magnification. But in the end, lessons; presumably life changing lessons are learned.
In PNG, many now think the government’s actions of late have brought us turmoil. Many wonderful adjectives have been used to depict the gravity of our situation and the hopelessness generally felt across the nation. We’re right to express our dismay and disgust at a bad government; which only recently replaced another equally bad government. PNG is left now with no alternate government that is for the people and by the people. This is all the more reason for fresh elections; and the sooner the better. But hang on a minute!
The O’Neil-Namah government has successfully brainwashed the rural majority as the government for the people and by the people with their free-education policy and the yet-to-be-implemented free-health policy. The word now on the lips of many is; “Peter O’Neill is the right-man and we all should vote for his party this election”. This message has gone far and wide to all corners of the country.

It would take a great deal of time and effort to convince the rural majority that the O’Neill-Namah government is not the right government for PNG. Peter O’Neill has addressed an ongoing problem that has disadvantaged thousands of rural kids from advancing in their studies.

What is the blessing in disguise in the government’s move to defer the election by six months? Please don’t get me wrong! I am not a fan of the O’Neil-Namah government.

The rural majority will vote in new leaders. With the mindset they currently have on O’Neil-Namah government, you can be sure these gentlemen will form the new government. So we need time. We need time to attack the government and the way it does business. We must reach out to the people through some form of awareness programs or other means that can effectively change mindsets and perceptions. A deferral of six months, if the government is adamant, is ample time to damage the government’s reputation. While making noise in Port Moresby is good, it is just not enough to change mindsets in the rural areas. We have to be smart; may be smarter than Mr O’Neill. It is time now to take the message to the masses and let them know who Messrs O’Neil and Namah really are.

So the gift for us this Easter, if the government stands by its decision to defer the election by six months would be ‘time’. Time we will have to tarnish its reputation and integrity. Remember PDM (People’s Democratic Movement)? It only needs time to gradually kill the party.

Bokis blo diriman

Dispela bokis blo diriman
I round olsem kokonas
Stail steret wantem ol tail
We save danis hamamas
Taim wind i bolow wail

Wailo! yellow, ret na pink
Ol danis igo ikam yet
Eye mambol i laik sink
Tsol lon nau ba ol wet
Igat taim blo danis i stap

Dispela kokonas yeh!
Box blo diriman
Bilas blo em stail moa
Em yet em stail wan
Tsol ol painim lon stoa
~~

Jeff Febi

Composed this while in the bus to Lufa.

He out did them all

In the confusion
On the mount of our fathers,
All, they tried to be the baddest

When the night's eye watched
When the day's star gazed
Even when night's chorus was silent

Out they parade those things,
Things that make them bad
And onward they mightily marched

Amongst them, stood one,
With a high head, he was stronger
And he out did them all

His name, heard they in the south.
In the north, he flew with a blaze
But into heaven, he couldn't make it

And so the story was told
To them that will hear
And be wary of the one

He out did them all
........................................................

With rather strong political connotations

Who is in our house?

Of late, PNG's government has abused our parliament to satisfy their crave for power. I hope this poem reminds us of the imminent danger we face in continuing to allow this government rule.
...............

Who is in the house,
Built by our fathers;
Did I see many a mouse;
Where are our mothers?
Their songs I hear not!

Where are they sheltering,
From stormy knights;
Aren't the wrinkles of love,
Already in sight;
O' don't they need a dove?

Who is in the house,
On the mount of our fathers;
Who, our mothers did arouse,
From their slumbers;
Did the children hear them wake?

And the children;
Where are they playing;
Did I hear them say;
We are still sleeping,
 Into the youth of of day?
----

Jeffrey Mane Febi.

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”.

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