NEW! LITERATURE COMPONENT

A COLLECTION OF POEMS, SHORT STORIES & DRAMA FORM 4 & 5

POEMS:

IN THE MIDST OF HARDSHIP BY LATIFF MOHIDIN
HE HAD SUCH QUIET EYES BY BIBSY SOENHARJO
NATURE BY H.D. CARBERRY
ARE YOU STILL PLAYING YOUR FLUTE BY ZURINAH HASSAN

SHORT STORIES:

QWERTYUIOP BY VIVIAN ALCOCK
THE FRUITCAKE SPECIAL BY FRANK BRENNAN

DRAMA:

GULP AND GASP BY JOHN TOWNSEND


The poems are short and quite an easy read.........

IN THE MIDST OF HARDSHIP

- LATIFF MOHIDIN

At dawn they returned home

their soaky clothes torn

and approached the stove

their limbs marked by scratches

their legs full of wounds

but on their brows

there was not a sign of despair

The whole day and night just passed

they had to brave the horrendous flood

in the water all the time

between bloated carcasses

and tiny chips of tree barks

desperately looking for their son's

albino buffalo that was never found

They were born amidst hardship

and grew up without a sigh or a complaint

now they are in the kitchen, making

jokes while rolling their cigarette leaves

HE HAD SUCH QUIET EYES

- Bibsy Soenharjo

He had such quiet eyes

She did not realise

They were two pools of lies

Layered with thinnest ice

To her, those quiet eyes

Were breathing desolate sighs

Imploring her to be nice

And to render him paradise

If only she's been wise

And had listened to the advice

Never to compromise

With pleasure-seeking guys

She'd be free from "the hows and whys"

Now here's a bit of advice

Be sure that nice really means nice

Then you'll never be losing at dice

Though you may lose your heart once or twice

(1968)

NATURE

- H.D. Carberry

We have neither Summer nor Winter

Neither Autumn nor Spring

We have instead the days

When the gold sun shines on the lush green canefields--

Magnificently.

The days when the rain beats like bullets on the roofs

And there is no sound but the swish of water in the

      gullies

And trees struggling in the high Jamaica winds.

Also there are the days when leaves fade from off

       guango trees

And the reaped canefields like bare and fallow to the sun.

But best of all there are the days when the mango and

      the logwood blossom

When the bushes are full of the sound of bees and the

      scent of honey,

When the tall grass sways and shivers to the slightest

      breath of air,

When the buttercups have paved the earth with yellow

      stars

And beauty comes suddenly and the rains have gone.