Kiluwe, oh Kiluwe
12 November 2020
Mt Giluwe, oh Giluwe
Kiluwe in mother lingua franca,
from whose mighty peaks,
the freezing mists disgorge
And snowflakes that puff out,
and ice, the spray-gunned ice,
Sending away the glacial drops
that slide into the mist
The Kiluwe ground frost,
Home of cold breezes
that wilts unprotected plants,
Then enjoins the icy steppe
The vapour streams and smears,
Turns into ice that blasts the air,
and infiltrates the atmosphere,
turning all into a chilled haze
The fog that then shelters the cold,
Causing nature to be an ice-box,
Chilling all that it comes to meet
as it freezes and fogs its way
Sometimes comes the hailstorm,
Icy tactics from above,
But always the shreds of mist
And the fogs lingering gently
Ah, mighty steaming Kiluwe,
Your peak standing in grandeur
Mastering the winds and ice,
And sovereign over all we see
A critique can be found here
https://plessingsing.com/2020/11/14/kiluwe-oh-kiluwe-a-song-of-mist-and-ice/.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 14 November 2020 at 08:31 PM
Sure Phil, but I like the identification with Kiluwe as a character (we) like a friend standing beside you taking in the view rather the personification of Kiluwe (you), which removes the narrator from the scene.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 12 November 2020 at 04:26 PM
I thought it was a good poem too and have included it in the 2020 PNG Attitude poetry anthology I'm compiling.
Just wondered about the last line in the last verse: "And sovereign over all we see". Would "And sovereign over all you see" work too?. There is a difference between the two lines and both are apt.
Posted by: Philip Fitzpatrick | 12 November 2020 at 02:49 PM
Samuel, this poem is extracted this from your soul, it is a song of mist and ice from the ancient high mountain valley.
I can smell the fresh air and feel its bite, taste the teary blue sky burning my eyes, and watch the soft dappled sunlight weeping in the green grass.
I am standing there in amidst the sweet potato mounds, the potato and broccoli, the cabbage and potato which grow plentifully in the rich black soil while the strident pine and yar trees whisper to each other.
What a glorious scene to behold Tambul Valley from 'Murmur Pass', to swoop down the winding road into the valley, while the mountains leap into the sky beside us.
And there he stands, Kiluwe, like some ancient chieftain surveying his land:
"Ah, mighty steaming Kiluwe,
Your peak standing in grandeur
Mastering the winds and ice,
And sovereign over all we see"
Thank you for this great poem.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 12 November 2020 at 09:47 AM