Poems by Deborah Kayuwa

                                                          

View of the day

She came down to the beach

When they told her

And saw the familiar figure

Sitting still, looking out

To sea and the distant horizon

A moment of hesitation

Then the sure-footed steps towards

The figure; she sat down beside him

And took the half-smoked cigarette

From his fingers and smoked with him

The effect of nicotine helping a little

Her sisters came and placed thumbs

Over his eyes to shut them

For this had been the man who kept her

Vigilant 24 hours a day to answer

All her children’s needs, yet she

Could not take him into her family

She replaced the cigarette in his fingers

Fumes rising and sailing by

As they led her away, from the ocean

 And the motionless figure

For a moment she thought

She would pause, look back

But walked on

            

Walking

Amazing how men choose

To walk ahead of others

Believing they are better

Than the rest

They stroll on ahead

Oblivious of the seasons

Walking the talk, talking

The false or truth

But they walk, anyway

Now I could tell you

About my own lover

Who’d once walked the talk

Way, way ahead of me

But that is yet another story

For another time, another place

Somewhere within the galaxy

              

Ring bark trees

My lover, he’s simply smashing

I tell Charity, my little sis

As we trace the initials carved round

The bark of this ancient tree

So many things carved on this tree

Of and by humanity in passing

Like stars and heart shapes

And diamonds and rings

Next to twelve others

Is my lover’s name

He is the best, I do declare

I notice tears in Charity’s eyes

She weeps for joy, she tells me

I know you are happy, she says

Let there be no other, she prays

Don’t hurt this one, big sis

                                                                               

Poems from the Crocodile Literary Competition

Photos courtesy of Ketsin Robert and Storyboard.

The 2011 Crocodile Literary Prize Competition recorded 178 entries in its poetry section. All of them represent the enormous amount of potential Papua New Guinea has in producing the best in poetry.

The themes of these poems range from custom and traditions or pasin, patriotism, heroism, self-assertion and appraisal to love, life, death, gender issues, environmental concerns, freedom of speech, conflict and resolution. Some are mildly told, others with great passion and pride. But they all represent a new generation of writers whose ages range from 11 to 35. Of a milder piece is a poem by the 11 year-old Nemora Poawai, simply titled as Poem:

I have a mother, do you?

That’s great that you have one too

I would have no other than to have her as a mother

We talk to each other from day to night

She’s like a big light

That shows me the way day and night

That’s why I love her and because she cares about me.

Then there are those that revolve around the subject of freedom of speech, a topic many writers become vocal about, such as this poem by Nini Costigan:

Freedom of Speech

How can I be free of me

When I'm not seeing what am really I

How can I salvage sanity

When I fight the one I cannot see

How can I blame insanity

When all is my; is my stupidity

All good poems are usually simply written and it is a good critic who manages a clear explanation of them so that others less familiar with this particular genre in creative literature will be able to decipher their meaning. Thus, the subject of freedom of speech as seen above: the persona feels gagged somewhat in that struggle to achieve self-expression. It is as if the persona feels the need to express a sentiment, but is inhibited by the self that ties the bond of imprisoning. Can the poem be about a society, a community of people, which might be finding it hard to express itself? Perhaps. But the poet’s duty is to witness that particular moment of metaphorical “imprisonment” which could be seen as self-censure even imposed use of control on freedom of speech. As we read the poem we feel we are struggling with the persona to express ourselves, and as it is always with us human beings there is the tendency to blame something else for that moment of struggle.

Some more good poems were found in this section of the competition. There were those that talked about loss and hope of salvation, such as the poem Lost Island by Gelab Piak, part of which is represented as follows:

We are like those locked in rooms

Crying, praying: all hope lost

Not knowing where we are

We are all around you

We cry to you, begging you to find us

All we ask is for someone to comfort and love us

Or we’ll fall deep into the arms of a vast

Blue ocean of loneliness

Kissed by the waves of anxiety

Like a lost island

Then there is a poem that actually promises hope and the will to return to one’s origins as Lapieh Landu’s I Will Return illustrates. It is a little too long to be printed here but the part that is cited sums up the main theme of the poem.

I cannot return now

For a distance I have travelled

To see this promised land

That dim dim had painted

Where knowledge was endless

And happiness so infinite

I wave goodbye to you

My home

There are so many other good examples in this section of the competition that we could cite here spacing permitting. But perhaps it is best we end up citing parts of those expressing some of the habits relished by the present generation, like the poem by Martyn Namorong titled Mobile Phones.

                                                                           

I love the jokes

Sent by sick folks

They are clean and dirty

And always witty

I hate chain messages

Coz they’re outrageous

Totally meaningless

And downright useless

The above poems and so many others are currently being viewed by the judges and the winning entries will be announced on the 15^th September as part of the Independence celebrations. There will be a prize giving ceremony observed immediately after a workshop where the competitors will be introduced, and there is also word doing the rounds that this is going to be one of the prestigious literary competitions ever held in the country.