JIMMY AWAGL

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

I am hungry
I am thirsty
I am desperate
Willingly eager to write
I am preoccupied as a rite

Everywhere I go there is an encounter
I carry a notebook & paper
And a biro to write
As I see new things
Experience something unfamiliar

FRANCIS NII

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

Intrepid justice dispenser
Astute constitution defender
Uncompromising democracy protector
People’s utmost beacon of hope

In this fluid democracy
Where the executive power is wily
Duplicitous and mendacious
Parliamentary power is diminished

Public service is corrupted
Police are made yo-yos
Army is compromised
Civil society is silenced

FRANCIS NII

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

KAUPA froze in bewilderment and turned to Duma who halted right behind him. He could see the apprehension on his younger brother’s face in the dimming light under the towering canopy of the forest. Duma too had seen what he, Kaupa, saw.

The brothers were in the middle of the bush track half way to the village. It had been a while since they left their garden house far down in the valley for home up yonder on the hilltop.

Kaupa had walked in front with a bilum of raw on-ama nol, his favorite sweet potato variety hanging under his right arm and carried his bow and arrows in his other hand.

Duma had been following behind carrying the loaded shot gun he made it himself in his right hand against his shoulder and a bundle of firewood on the left shoulder.

ALYTHEA SIRABA

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

EVERY day the death toll is rising, the number of refugees is increasing, children are being abused; violence is swelling; and here I am wondering why.

I have not lived two decades in this world but I have already witnessed at first hand violence, discrimination, brutality and suffering.

Peace is “the non-warring condition of a nation, group of nations or the world; mutual harmony; freedom from civil commotion of violence; freedom of mind from annoyance, distraction, anxiety and obsession”. So says the Online Dictionary.

Personally I believe that peace comes from within; that it is simply acceptance.

FRANCIS NII

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

Like small children
They shout at each other

Finger pointing
And blames shifting

The bullies shout the most
While the timid grouch in silence

The intelligent can’t even make an impact
For they are booed and suppressed

STACEY TARURA

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

MALE dominated industries are slowly being nudged towards equality as women break barriers and set standards like never before.

Although their numbers may seem small in some occupations, women are steadily projecting their accomplishments everywhere.

One such person is Brownwein Kasito, who seemed unaware of the sound waves of her achievement as she went about her work at the Air Niugini hangar at Jacksons International Airport in Port Moresby.

This beautiful woman from Sirumpa Fayantina village in the Henganofi district of the Eastern Highlands had just become the second woman in the aircraft maintenance division to be licensed as an aircraft maintenance engineer.

WARDLEY BARRY

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

We gather what’s left of our past and look
West toward tomorrow on silver fields,
Hoping to re-find what we twice forsook.

We fill our baskets and billums with yields
From farmlands that lie in regions far-flung,
While we trample down ol hausman to build

White houses where we listen to strange tongues,
And scribble our ignorance on white sheets,
And speak like strings of tuneless guitars strung

FRANCIS NII

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

Development, they croon
The typical claptrap
Behemoth’s sweet gimmick

What development?
My lifestyle the same
My status a shame

Change, they chant
The typical mumbo jumbo
Tyrant’s propaganda

WARDLEY D BARRY-IGIVISA

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

Run, my friend. Run into the cold, cold night.
Confront your demons, rage against your fears;
Chase them from your haunt before break of light.

Kindle your beacon with a candlelight;
Hold up its golden flames your path to clear.
Run, my friend. Run into the cold, cold night.

Hear gruesome howls from the depths of twilight,
Feel still winds rustling the hairs in your ears;
Chase them from your haunt before break of light.

DOLAROSE ATAI WO’OTONG

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

WHEN election time comes, you walk side by side with them down the road, drive in the same car and even take them with you in the plane.

You even invite them to one of your homes or force yourself to spend the night in their humble bush material house.

You talk and talk and talk and never run out of words to manipulate their poor minds on how you will construct roads, build bridges and make their lives better with water supplies and electricity.

With their heart and soul, they put their trust in you, elect you, give you the authority to represent them - and then they wait.

FRANCIS NII

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

Cruising over Los Negros Island
Momote Airport sleeping in serenity
Surrounded by surging blue seas
Pilot’s bliss

The Bird of Paradise
Gracious national flag carrier
Swiftly taxis to a halt
Joyfully I disembark

To the welcome of equatorial heat
Brackish sea gale
World War II relics
Swaying palms and mangroves

FRANCIS NII

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

IMAGINE you have genuine business to conduct with your provincial Governor, the man people like you have given a mandate to serve.

Say you want to follow up on the K100,000 he has committed to your group’s community-based vegetable project under the special agriculture grant roll out.

The money has been budgeted but not released and the year is about to end.

Your group members are frustrated and pressure you as chairperson to personally meet the Governor and collect the cheque.

WARDLEY BARRY

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

Dream with me,
When I dream that I twinkle among stars,
Or skip with sweet cherubs from moon to moon;
When I spread my wings and glide through rainbows,
Catching gold teardrops of gods in my hand,
Or rollick and romp where night and day blend;
When I gaily farewell stalking shadows,
And watch them disappear into poltroons;
When I spark in Elysian Fields on Mars,
Dream with me.

WARDLEY BARRY

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

Art is a gift of the gods to mankind,
A wee amusement to keep him happy,
Lest he knowing his vainness lose his mind.

To make sense of this divine entropy,
Paint a picture of what they left behind.
Man must drink his own futile therapy,

Art’s an incense we burn to gods we fear:
The Divine, the Dead, and above all Death,
Who through its unreserved love abides near.

DOLAROSE ATAI WO’OTONG

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

Quiet, but confident with his profession,

An honest expression and eyes that don’t lie,

Remains true to himself and the things for which he stands for,

Not brutal but he will prove all his enemies they are wrong without force but by solving all his problems with no violence,

Pays attention to all his family, friends, colleagues, and workers in the same building for no one is beneath his attention,

RAYMOND SIGIMET

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

THE inside walls of the building were spotlessly clean, as if a new coat of paint had just been applied.

A notice in bold print outside the door read, “ALL FOOTWARES OUTSIDE!”

The cleaner was busy mopping the floor and, as he entered the door, smiled shyly at Hades.

Then the cleaner continued with his task, sniffing at the familiar haus sik smel and whiff of antibacterial detergent.

Hades heard the door open slowly as if not to attract attention and knew it was his mum, who would be peering around to see if anybody else was in the room.

JIMMY AWAGL

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

When I do not have a story
And I am alone
I usually read poems
To myself

But now I
Know you
I usually write poems
About you

SIMON DAVIDSON

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

THERE lived an old woman in a village located about just one kilometre away from the mission school.

Her husband had deserted her when he found a new wife from another place and the woman had struggled to raise her three children, a girl and two boys.

When her children became adults, they married and she was left alone. She made her own garden, collected firewood and fetched water. She was very industrious.

One day she went to the market to sell kaukau. As she was walking home, she met a young boy carrying a load of books in his bag.

She asked him, “Where do you live, and how far is your home?” The boy said, “I live in Pamas village, about 10 kilometres from the school.”

JIMMY AWAGL

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

Beyond the horizon
None think of your origin
You are stereotypes
In their own world view

More gullies and valleys
High hills and slopes
No one loves dwelling
In isolation from services

SIMON DAVIDSON

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

WE MUST not be indolent and let life happen to us. If we become passive and sit in the cool chair of idleness, we’ll degenerate and live a life of mediocrity and second best.

We will develop a victim’s mentality and underutilise our potential and become slaves of circumstance.

At worst we will squander our innate ability and waste the wonderful opportunities that life offers us.

As a result, we will be named amongst the living dead, who live but are counted as dead because they live unproductively in the status quo.

Instead we must be awake to opportunity and create the life we desire. We need to realise that we have the potential to make things happen.

DOLAROSE ATAI WO’OTONG

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

AT EIGHT in the morning, I boiled the jug, made myself a cup of tea and prepared for class.

As I looked through the kitchen window, I saw a little girl; less than 10 years old. She wore a blouse over her shorts and carryed a bilum with a single peanut butter container inside. I could see this girl was poor and that she probably did not go to school.

Sometime later, as I looked over some topics before going to class, I saw her carrying firewood and making her way back home, perhaps to prepare a meal for the day or dinner in the afternoon.

The world is unfair.

DOLAROSE WO'OTONG

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

Dedicated to my dad, John Uwen Wo’otong

I HAVE lived my life for him through primary school and secondary school and now I am in college.

I always try to do my best so, that at the end of the year when the marks come out and when he sees I’m at the top of the list, it will put a big smile on his face.

And I will be by his side to share that moment.

For nothing can measure the time he spent caring for us, the care and the love he showed even when he was in the abyss, the courage he displayed when faced with difficult situations, the support he provided as a one-man team and his selflessness in the face of trouble.

JIMMY AWAGL

An entry in the 2016 Crocodile Prize

We want to get an answer
Either hear your voice
Or see your face
Person in position of authority

The appointment form reads
‘I am here to see you for water supply project
‘Come and see me tomorrow morning’
So early in the morning they turn up

You are late to resume duty
They wait in vain
After three hours you relay the news
‘I attend funeral, come back tomorrow’