THREE OF PAPUA NEW GUINEA’s published poets have questioned what has happened to the country they knew and to the dream that we held as a nation.
The recent times have been some of the most politically volatile. But perhaps these growing pains are necessary for us to question what we are doing and where we are going as a people.
The youthful years of fumbling along with a happy-go-lucky attitude must give way to careful thought and consideration of how we want to achieve our dreams and ambitions.
Our vision for the future is only as good as the people who believe in it and work together to achieve a better Papua New Guinea.
GANJIKI D WAYNE
I can't get my head around all these
After a political coup we've had tumbling calamities
Controversy abounds, power-plays come faster
And we're rocked by disaster after another
We thought an SC decision will fix all, but PMNEC happened
We tried to handle that, and the Governors General happened
We tried to work that out, and the Police Commissioners happened
We tried to deal with that, and the floods happened
We tried to deal with the floods, and the land slipped
We tried to handle the slip, and the soldiers mutinied
We tried to work out the mutiny, but the ship had sunk
We tried to focus on the ship, and the CJ ran out of luck!
Lord knows what'll happen next!
Just watch the phone we'll know by text
Facebook'll break to us the news
Some storm of late, shall again rock our shores
We blinked, and our nation's changed
Landscapes-political social physical-rearranged
At the snap of some fingers; but who's fingers?
Among the people it's mostly hurt that lingers
We asked for, no we demanded, change
But we didn't bargain for this kind
And now here we are lost and deranged
Angry, mad, demanding one's faulty behind
No time to grieve, not even to anger
No time to rejoice, pleasure none, no glee
Hurting and lost, forever confused
Take one week for yet another cuppa tea
Ol' Pete crowned himself at an opportune time
For in these calamities he can truly shine
But a cloud hovers o'er his head
A crisis that I pray soon be fixed
What our Mama Lo says bout him and that seat
Pray tell what becomes of us all!
Does nature unleash its disapproval?
Have our sins and our leaders' folly
Brought wrath on this nation wholly?
Alas my rose coloured glass
Smashed into a thousand pieces
The thousand fragments scattered all over
No more Technicolor dreams
No more rainbow painted view
Just a darker shade of grey
Reality sure is stark
Alas my euphoric soul
Wrung dry of its living waters
No more butterfly swoops in the gut
No more adrenalin rushes and cascades
Only the upward surge of gall
Living the mouth burning
The foul breath lives to tell
Reality sure is bitter
Alas my bubble of dream
Popped in midair by invisible fingers
My fantasies hitched a ride with the passing wind
Leaving not a footprint neither a shadow
Not even a note
O clueless me
Tell me where has my dream gone?
To the wind - Please bring back my illusion
The Rain Tree
On the edge of this blue marble
I hear echoes of a poacher‘s hammer, planting a rain tree of steel and concrete
In a city with a new vision
Having felled trees of old, where life was worth life itself,
Where priceless was a rain drop, from nature’s bosom, trickling into streams of life
Where rivers used to sing with me, waltzing to the ocean
Oh you adulterous Nation! How long will you wander
Dancing under new reign - the money reign, waltzing to the banks
Appetising a poacher’s cocktail, of spiels and red beans
Just red beans
Oh Arise all you sons and daughters of the motherland
Lest you sleep now, only to wake in pool of beans,
Just red beans
In a rain tree of steel and concrete,
Where life, and all its promise, is nothing but plastic.