I Wonder by Jeannie Kirby.
I wonder why the grass is green,
And why the wind is never seen?
The poet
questions on why the color of the grass is green but not the other colors. In
this world we have so many colors like blue, yellow and gray. However, we can
only see green as the color of the grass throughout the Earth. The poet also
questions on why is the wind cannot be seen. As human, we can feel things via
the sense of touch through contacts made with our skin. Nevertheless, we cannot
see the wind although we can feel it on our skin.
Who taught the birds to build a
nest,
And told the trees to take a
rest?
In the
first line, the poet wonders who gave the birds the knowledge to build such a
perfect nest to live on. This is because; most birds build their own nest for
their little ones and for them to live. As compared to animals, human need to
be taught to learn some skills or abilities. The second line shows the
curiosity of the poet on the trees that don’t move like other living things.
O, when the moon is not quite
around,
Where can the missing bit be
found?
We all
know that the moon is round in shape. However, sometimes the moon loses its
shape and become half or three quarter of its real shape. The poet is curious
on where would the other parts of the moon have gone to.
Who lights the stars, when they
blow out,
And makes the lightning flash
about?
The stars
always appear at night but disappear as the morning comes. This occurrence
makes the poet to think that there is a person who light up the stars as the
night comes and the lightning flash in the night sky.
Who paints the rainbow in the
sky,
And hangs the fluffy clouds so
high?
Rainbow
is the combination of 7 lines that appears in 7 colors after the rain stops.
The poet is curious on how would the rainbow appear in the sky. Looking at the
rainbow also makes the poet to question about the clouds located up in the sky
that looks like they are hanging.
Why is it now, do you suppose,
That Dad won’t tell me, if he
knows?
The poet
is wondering on why his father refuses to explain all the questions above. This
is maybe because of the poet is too small to understand all the consequences
that happen naturally in this world.
Mr. Nobody -Unknown
I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
Who does mischief that is done
In everybody’s house!
There’s no one ever sees his
face, and yet we all agree
That every plate we break was
cracked
By Mr. Nobody.
The funny
little man mentioned in the poem is a little boy, perhaps three to five years
old. This is because; a child within that age usually does not talk much rather
than making things that require them to learn. However, they often create
trouble to people around them. Like in this stanza, there are cracked plates
but people tend not to scold them because they are in the learning process
though people know they do it.
‘Tis he who always tears our
books,
Who leaves the door ajar,
He pulls the buttons from our
shirts,
And scatters pins afar;
That squeaking door will always
squeak,
For, prithee, don’t you see,
We leave the oiling to be done
By Mr. Nobody.
The same
thing happen mentioned in this stanza, the child creates another trouble in the
house. Some of the troubles are the books have been torn, the buttons have been
pulled out from the shirts and the pins are scattered. However, seeing that the
little boy needs to learn, they leave the squeaking door to be oiled by the boy
for him to learn.
He puts damp wood upon the fire,
That kettles cannot boil;
His are the feet that bring in
mud,
And all the carpets soil.
The papers always are mislaid,
Who had them last night but he?
There’s no one tosses them about
But Mr. Nobody.
Within
this age also, the child may be doing something that may annoy some other
people. The examples are given in this stanza such as Mr. Nobody puts damp
woods upon the fire which causes the kettle cannot be boiled, bringing the mud
into the house and make the carpet soiled, and papers are mislaid. People know
that no one could do such things except for Mr. Nobody.
The fingers marks upon the door
By no one of us are made;
We never leave the blinds unclosed,
To let the curtains fade;
The ink we never spill; the boots
That lying around you see
Are not our boots-they all belong
To Mr. Nobody.
However,
though people like Mr. Nobody is quite troubling, they need to be directed and
to be taught the meaning of life. Not to forget they become like that because
they are in the process of learning. Therefore, we as adult or people that are
older and already matured must show a good talent for them to follow the right
role model. For example in this stanza, Mr. Nobody does not know the meaning of
privacy which he lets the door and the curtain open, leaving the boots not in
the right place and spilling inks.
The River by Valerie Bloom
Valerie
Bloom was born and grew up in Clarendon, Jamaica. She was enchanted with
literature from a very early age; her work first entered the public arena when
she won a national competition.
Valerie
moved to England in 1979. Here she began writing and performing
regularly. Valerie studied English with African and Caribbean Studies at
the University of Kent at Canterbury. She writes poetry in English and
Jamaican patois for all ages. She has published several poetry books and
two novels for young people while her work has been published in over 300
anthologies. As well as running writing workshops and courses, Valerie performs
across the country and internationally; she has appeared everywhere from local
libraries to the Royal Albert Hall. She is also a familiar voice on
television and radio.
Valerie
was awarded an MBE for her services to poetry in 2008, and has been awarded an
Honorary Masters Degree from the University of Kent. She lives with her family
in Kent and is inspired by everything around her. Caribbean life and
culture remain a strong influence on her work.
Two of
Valerie Bloom’s hugely popular poetry collections are available in one volume Hot Like Fire for the
first time, puhblished by Bloomsbury in January 2009.
The River’s a wanderer,
A nomad, a tramp,
He doesn’t choose one place
To set up his camp.
The poet
compared the river to a wanderer because a wanderer does not choose a place to
stay for a long time. Same goes to the river which continues flowing and never
stops.
The River’s a winder,
Through valley and hill
He twists and he turns,
He just cannot be still.
This
stanza explains that a river does not rest or stops. Even though there are
valleys or hills upfront, the river will continue flowing by adapting the
surface of the Earth.
The River’s a hoarder,
And he buries down deep
Those little treasures
That he wants to keep.
The poet
is comparing a river to a hoarder because when the river flows, it won’t stop
to evade things which come across its way. The river will carry all the things
with it and bury them in the river bed.
The River’s a baby,
He gurgles and hums,
And sounds like he’s happily
Sucking his thumbs.
In this
stanza the river is compared to a baby because a baby’s voice sometimes can be
too loud and sometimes it can be too slow. Same goes to the river, whenever he
goes fast down the stream the sound is loud and when it comes to a more flat
ground, the sound lessen and sometimes it cannot be heard.
The River’s a singer,
As he dances along,
The countryside echoes
The notes of his song.
The sixth
stanza compares the river to a singer seeing that the river’s movement is
significant to the movement of a singer on the stage. While moving, the river
moves with sounds and it is heard to the countryside.
The River’s a monster
Hungry and vexed,
He’s gobbled up trees
And he’ll swallow you next.
The river
is said to be a monster because when the water level increases and the speed of
the stream is boosted, it will be a disaster that no one could stop it until it
alleviate itself.
Heir Conditioning by M SHANmughalingam.
In his
school days at the V.I. from 1952 to 1958, Dato' M. Shanmughalingam was
hyperactive in the debating, literary and drama fields. He was a member of the
very successful school debating team and chairman of the Senior Literary and
Debating Society. He topped the country in the 1956 Sixth Form Entrance Exam
with 96% marks. He was the secretary and, later, joint editor of theSeladang,
steering the V.I. newspaper through one of its most vibrant periods. He was in
the first group of Victorians in 1958 to be awarded the coveted "Club
21" badge for meritorious service to the school.
Shan
holds an Honours degree from the University of Malaya, a Masters from Harvard
and a Doctorate from Oxford University. At Harvard he graduated first in class
with Grade A in all eight subjects and was admitted to the Ph.D. programme
directly without formal application. At Oxford he won the Getrude Hartley
Memorial prize for Poetry and a graduate scholarship from Balliol College and
the second prize in the Short Story competition judged by the novelist, Iris
Murdoch and John Bayley, Prof. of Literature, and sponsored by ISIS, Oxford
University and The Observer.
Shan's
literary publications include poems and short stories in Commonwealth
Anthologies (London) international anthologies (Singapore), in universities
(Harvard, Malaya, Oxford and Singapore) and in national literary journals. He
is co-editor of an anthology of Malaysian poetry.
Shan's
works have been the subject of theses in universities in Malaysia and Germany
and of a movie to be made in New Zealand. A video recording of his performance
poetry with thirteen of his own poems has just been made for an Australian
website on international poets.
Grand dad did you breathe
Before air cons were invented
Was it hard staying
Alive without modern inventions?
Grandma weren’t you flustered
As you fluttered with paper fans?
Could you communicate before
Faxes and long distance calls
Became basic necessities?
In the
first stanza, the poet asks his grandparents about the life before the
technology arouse and become the important usage in the world nowadays. He asks
his grandfather was it complicated to live in the life without technology as he
refers the technology to the invention of the air cons. Then he asks his
grandmother regarding the condition when she used paper fans to cool herself.
He also asks his grandmother what were the possibilities for them to
communicate without faxes and long distance calls compared to the world
nowadays.
Grandchild we lived
Before your age. Because
Of our ignorance,
We did not know
Pollution, stress, traffic jams
Destruction of forests, streams and
Hills
We feared God and nature
Now nature fears you and
Money is your new God.
The
second stanza shows the answers given by the poet’s grandparents that sum up
all the questions in one simple answer. The reason on why they did not
experience all the pollution, stress, traffic jams, and destruction of forests,
streams and hills is because of their ignorance; they were lack of knowledge by
that time. His grandparents add, the only thing that they fear is God and
nature but now, the nature turns to fear the entire human race and money is the
only obsession to human.
A Fighter’s Lines by Marzuki Ali.
I am old and worn
And have lost all my strength
Sufferings
And the history of the fight for independence
Have forced sacrifices
That know no name
Or life
The first
stanza explains on the condition of the poet who was once a combatant; a
retired soldier. He is unable to fight anymore like he used to because he is
old and has lost all the strength that he has had before. He explains that the
war for independence sacrificed many lives.
From the wheelchair of the rest
of my days
I, body and energy crushed
See and cannot do much
These times are too big a
challenge
For the remnants of my crippled
years
The net of deceit spread
everywhere
Disturbs me.
In the
second stanza, through the word wheelchair we can recognize that the poet is a
paralyzed person. These days are too challenging for him as he is unable to do
many things on the wheelchair for him to spend his spare life. He also includes that he is uncomfortable and
disturbed by the dirtiness played by the people nowadays.
In the name of justice
Wake up and form ranks sons of
our ancestors
Be brave
And erect a wall of people
Stand up heirs of our freedom
In the
third stanza, the poet urges the youngsters to wake up and unite to speak for
their freedom and continue as what they ancestors had done many years ago.
I have no more voice
It is you now who should speak
The last
two lines shows that the poet has already given up and ready to give the
responsibility to the new generation to continue their fight.
Leisure by William Henry Davies
Wm. Henry Davies
(1871-1940) is to be considered as the poet of the tramps. Born at Newport,
Wales in the UK, Davies came to America from Great Britain and lived the life
of a vagabond. One day, as the result of jumping a train, he lost one of legs.
Davies returned to England where he continued to live the life of a tramp and a
peddler. He wrote poetry and eventually, he determined to print his own book
and did so with the little money he earned panhandling. A copy of this first
work, ASoul's Destroyer, came into the hands of George Bernard
Shaw; which, in turn, led to the popularization of the poet.
What is this life if, full of
care,
We have no time to stand and
stare.
The poet
asks of how this life would mean if we have the time to take a rest and feel
the beauty of life.
No time to stand beneath the
bough
And stare as long as sheep or
cows.
Working
people nowadays have no time to rest and have some leisure time as they are too
busy earning money for living.
No time to see, when woods we
pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts
in grass.
We have
no time to experience the fresh air and the excitement of spending time in the
jungle watching how the nature of the Earth works as we are too busy working in
the town.
No time to see, in broad
daylight.
Streams full of stars, like stars
at night.
Since
nowadays people work very hard in the daylight, they turn to be tired at night.
As a result, they have no time to enjoy the beauty of the night seeing that
they need to sleep for their body need to rest to start working early in the
morning the next day.
No time to turn at Beauty’s
glance,
And watch her feet, how they can
dance.
We have
no time to care about our mothers; how they take care of us and doing the house
chores in order to raise us and to make us live in a happy and comfortable
environment.
No time to wait till her mouth
can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
We have
no time to even take a look at our mothers to curve a smile again and the eyes
that hide all the pain and suffer in raising us.
A poor life this is, if full of
care,
We have no time to stand and
stare.
The poet
feels that a life without appreciating the nature is seen as a lifeless life
because we don’t have the time for our self to care of the beauty of
nature.
2 comments:
Interesting and true. This is exactly how are lives are now a days. We need to take a rest.
This blog is too helpful too me.
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