Venice masks

Monday 23 January 2017

We don’t sing anymore - Jeffrey Mane Febi

Here! Comfort and solace we seek. Where we love and beloved.
Once a promise I smell; of together hearkening to sounds of poetry;
Of to the beat of alliterations together dancing;
Of together in fields of metaphor, cuddling and be cheery;
Of through the bars of many a rhyme kissing.
Of a romance ever growing between us – you and I – feeding on abstractions.
Words don’t mean what they seem and substance of verses reaches beyond yonder.
When ocean isn’t deep, deeper we went; almost into bliss and we did dance.
Pity! Our true love, how its symbols we do not have any more I wonder.
Words mean what they seem and before yonder are our verses’ substance.
Dance I can’t no more when there is no beat! But you dance still,
Nor kiss you if there are no bars! But kiss oh kiss you will.
How I yearn you must know, for a return to the true ways,
Ever so close to the fields of metaphors – our true place.

Jeffrey Mane Febi (20th century) Papua New Guinea
Source: The Crocodile Prize 2013 Anthology

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