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Quotes about hut, page 5

The Filipino Poem 2

As written by Bimboy a high school student
At St. Vincent’s College in Dipolog City section Einstein:

The sun rises in my little barrio in Olingan
And sits on two hill where our nipa hut lies
The sun is like a handsome face looking
At two hills like the twin plump breasts of a
Beautiful maiden and his sunrays are like
Fingers lovingly caressing them with too much
Warmth the coconuts, yes, the coconuts like nipples
Spread on the hillsides and his tongue licks them
his mouth sucking them these young coconuts
while my papa Leads the carabao to a mudhole to wallow
While my mother takes some hot chilis for viand
My sister is not there on the window she
Eloped with her boyfriend so you can find
Nobody looking out the window of the hut.

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A Showstopper In Facebook

'If a favouring God wills to give one,
He will do so splitting the roof of a hut',
the villagefolk often say this in fun,
despite one confined to the hut with doors shut.
A friend of facebook has her mischief done,
tagging on to my photo to a star to gut,
my fame earned as an old gold with good morals.
Young men curse me vying for my laurels.

I'm fine for my photo is matched to a star
at least in the facebook by an unknown friend.
Friends offer bad comments my heart to jar,
as they in hearts have places to the godsend.
They send words of hurt hearts which none can mend.
Some of the friends see me as their foe.
They plead with me, in her heart, their flames to wend.
O you bunged my photo near a star for show!
Could she, this bum, shun or with a great heart allow?

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The Good Old Concertina

’Twas merry when the hut was full
Of jolly girls and fellows.
We danced and sang until we burst
The concertina’s bellows.
From distant Darling to the sea,
From the Downs to Riverina,
Has e’er a gum in all the west
Not heard the concertina?

’Twas peaceful round the campfire blaze,
The long white branches o’er us;
We’d play the tunes of bygone days,
To some good old bush chorus.
Old Erin’s harp may sweeter be,
The Scottish pipes blow keener;
But sing an old bush song for me
To the good old concertina.

’Twas cosy by the hut-fire bright
When the pint pot passed between us;

[...] Read more

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The Filipino Poem 3

The Filipino poem as written by Bimboy
A college student of the Ateneo de Davao
University taking up BS Chemistry on a
Cocofed scholarship grant:

The sun rises on the two hills in my barrio.
You cannot find Papa and Mama there anymore
They always quarrel over their extramarital affairs
And the nipa hut is just too crowded for the two of them.
My sister had two sons but you cannot find them there
Because they live in another nipa hut on the other
Side of the river while the ricefields are dry and did not
Yield any harvest because of drought and the carabao
Is also not there in that scene because it died, butchered
And sold as meat to the hungry neighborhood.
The sun sets on the hills like a bunsen burner turned off.
The two hills protrude like two empty glass flasks turned upside down.
You cannot find me there I am here still writing this poem.

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Nothing To Say.

Auntie took you to the hut
where the wives of the soldiers

met up to chat and drink tea
and eat cakes and you sat in

the chair looking at each of
them in turn wishing time

would go and you could go
back home to your few toys

and play but no Auntie carried
on the talking and the long

conversations were way over
your head and now and then

they’d break into laughter and
some woman’s kid would cry

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Hate

All life of hate
life of great lake of tears
and desperation of late
She showed up and faced fears

She saw sunlight
But in it there was hate
from the roots, only one root
the mama litto, mama
she called on breast feed, nana

And then she missed it,
the breast went abroad of mists
And that's the focus of debt
the focus of hata list

Look, only two souls, and three
Only two great souls were close
Herself, into marriage of beasts,
She thought there was summer hut

[...] Read more

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The Stringy-Bark Tree

There's the whitebox and pine on the ridges afar,
Where the iron-bark, blue-gum, and peppermint are;
There is many another, but dearest to me,
And the king of them all was the stringy-bark tree.
Then of stringy-bark slabs were the walls of the hut,
And from stringy-bark saplings the rafters were cut;
And the roof that long sheltered my brothers and me
Was of broad sheets of bark from the stringy-bark tree.

And when sawn-timber homes were built out in the West,
Then for walls and for ceilings its wood was the best;
And for shingles and palings to last while men be,
There was nothing on earth like the stringy-bark tree.

Far up the long gullies the timber-trucks went,
Over tracks that seemed hopeless, by bark hut and tent;
And the gaunt timber-finder, who rode at his ease,
Led them on to a gully of stringy-bark trees.

Now still from the ridges, by ways that are dark,

[...] Read more

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Homes Of The Moon...

The Castle Of The Moon
Is Made Of Pearl
Its Banners and Pennants
Are Moonbeams Unfurled

See Pinpoints Of Lances
Of Her Knights Defenses
The Tapestry Of Darkness
Her Glory Eclipses
__________

The Palace Of The Moon
Is Made Of Silver
In The River Of Night
It Shines and Mirrors

Amid Lotus-Stars
And Nightingale Comets
Where Dreams and Torches
Move In Its Orbit

[...] Read more

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Dreams To Live

I have so many dreams to live
Build the hut or place and relive
I would want beautiful queen inside
To whom I can go and confide

As I have so far only dreamed
Not approached or bodily harmed
The response is awaited in affirmative
But she is my aim and real objective

I shall not run for shelter
When thing go wrong or alter
The rain may come at any time
I should have everything ready to welcome

I have promised to take you along
I can afford to go totally wrong
River may alter her path and deviate
I shall not budge an inch even with bad fate

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Prayer

Our great Lord God in heaven
the maker of all that's on earth
a breath of life to all creatures you've given
powerful, mighty, kind and loving thou art
make me acceptable and spiritually leaven
cleans the iniquities of my deeds and my heart
though I be of two thoughts; neither odd nor even
let the paid blood prize be my hut
make the devils destruction plans in vain
lead me by your right hand that I cannot be hurt
let me not return to the trespasses forgiven
send me the holy spirit to keep me alert
and by it in good ways I'll be driven.

Grant me success while here on earth
and by it let glory unto you be given
make it known that the giver of all thou art
If thy ways are kept pure and unleavened
for your sight sees every heart.
We ought not to be purely odd but purely even

[...] Read more

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