Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member

Members

Poems

Raj Arumugam Nov 2011
Right...
catfish slippery
gourd slippery
and I am to catch this catfish

mountains stand behind
covered by mist
mountains have grown
as have my whiskers
and my clothes tear and wear out with time
and I am to catch
slippery catfish
with slippery gourd -
O god
of streams and mountains!
how do you catch, dear god of bamboo,
a catfish in a gourd?

and the waters flow
of many monsoons and storms
and the river has changed its course
many times
while I stand here with my gourd
and myself twisted and turned and all my virility lost
not a jot closer to my task
even with the god of riverbanks;
but all the while this catfish jumps around in the stream
mocking
clapping its fins like a pair of hands
and beating the water with its tail
and the message it sends is: “Come on! come on!
Catch me if you can!”


Right...
catfish in the waters slippery
gourd in my hand slippery
and I am to catch this catfish
O god of mist and rocks
how do you catch a catfish in a gourd?
poem based on the painting “how do you catch a catfish in a gourd?” by Hyonenzu (Josetsu) (1405-1423)
Mark Jun 2020
SILLY SEASON, SLIPPERY SLOPES AND SOME SNOW SLUSH    
From the 7th diary entry of Stewy Lemmon's childhood adventures.    
       
WOW, it was already Christmas Eve. It goes to show, 'time flies when you're having fun', for winter was amongst us again. This year's weather was awfully cold, with the temperature dropping to only two degrees, it was freezing outside. I said, to my parents, 'it seems to be a silly shkeason for this time of year, and without any real good reason'.    
     
My dad, had gathered some wood for the open fireplace, that he had made for us inside. We then all sang songs and ate our multi coloured marshmallows, straight off the wooden sticks, to make us feel yummy, once inside our tummy.    
     
My mum Flo, said, with her cheeks as red as a rose, from the heat of the fire, which was making her cheeks glow. 'Do you want to go to the snow, for a couple of days'? We could have so much fun, in the white, cold snow'?    
     
So, the next morning, Dad packed up the car, with ski's, gloves, boots, jackets and even some ski chains for the slippery wet road tar.    
     
Mum, packed some food, drinks, our tooth brushes and even a hair brush and a comb. Then we hopped into the overloaded car, and headed off west in search of the white, cold snow.    
     
We finally arrived at the Shivermetimbers Ski Lodge, and the manager Monty Lopez, was there to greet us, and gave us the keys to our regular ski lodge. It's a funny job, by the way, for a bloke that can't even ski, due to vertigo, unbalanced and all.    
     
Once inside our weekend ski lodge, we quickly lit the enormous fireplace, which was built, smack in the middle of the very large lounge room.    
     
Mum and Dad had their own bedroom, my two much older, identical twin sisters, Emma and Jemma, had the ski loft, while my little brother Lemmy, Smoochy and I had the fold-out bed, that popped out from under the couch.    
     
Early next morning, we all ate bacon and eggs and drank hot chocolate, except for dad, who preferred his hot cup of tea.    
     
After breakfast, the manager Monty Lopez, told my Mum, Flo and my two, identical twin sisters, that they can have, free ski lessons down the back tracks, for an hour or so.    
     
     
But after only about, ten or fifteen minutes, with the, Shivermetimbers ski instructor, Stefan Pettersson, who was from North Poland, they just simply gave up.    
     
Not just because, every time they tried to stand up, all three of them kept falling flat on their backs. But, because Stefan Pettersson, could not speak a word of English, unlike his distant English speaking cousins in South Poland.    
     
I'm sure he was a great ski teacher, but maybe, needed to learn the language of the South as well. Then he could explain to the tourists, from English speaking countries, what he needed them to do, to stay on their feet.    
     
Meanwhile my Dad, along with his old and very funny friend, Trevor Thomas Timberlake, whom Dad has always called Triple T for short, were hiding in the retreat's garage, making another Christmas surprise.    
     
While Smoochy, Lemmy and I were trying to peek in and see what they were doing, we heard loud noises like, Boom, Buzz, Bang, Clunk, Clink, Clank, Smack, Swat, Slap and even Heave-**.We couldn't wait to see what they had made for us, after all of that noise.    
     
As we were walking back to grab a soft drink and bite to eat, BANG the garage doors opened, and that's when we saw our Christmas surprise.    
     
For it was Trevor Thomas Timberlake, dressed up in a very colourful Santa outfit. But, if you think that was funny, 'who do you think was pulling Santa's even more colourful sleigh'?    
     
It was the manager Monty Lopez's, eight very small pet Chiqaua's. They didn't look like they were that strong, to pull Santa's sleigh and Dad's old and very funny friend, Triple T.    
     
All of the kids and I were so pleased. I even noticed Smoochy, with a bit of a glee. Santa Trevor and his chosen helpers, my two, identical twin sisters Emma and Jemma, gave out the presents, to all of the children that were staying at the,'Shivermetimbers Ski Lodge'.    
     
Later that afternoon, my mum, had made a big barrel of fruit snacks for everyone to share. We were all about to start to eat, when all of sudden, we heard an almighty big crash.    
     
For Monty's eight very small pet Chiqaua's, were spooked by my grouse new pet mouse named, Smoochy. He had startled them all and made Triple T's Santa Sleigh, stack right into the table. With the fruit barrel sitting on top, the big crash had tossed the barrel of fruit, onto the ground and it rolled down the slippery snow ski slopes.    
     
Everybody rushed over to see all of the mess. But it actually turned out to be quite good looking, more or less. Because, Mum's fruit snack, had all spilled out and had created a really cool, very cold and quite a colourful, rainbow snack in the snow.    
     
I named that accidental creation of a mess, 'The Sensationally Spilt Rainbow Snow Snack on the Slippery Ski *****'.    
     
We had all decided to head back to our family's very large shack and have chicken nuggets with tomato sauce of course, instead of Mum's colourful fruit snack.    
     
In the morning, we went and saw the mess from the night before. My Dad and Triple T had come up with a clever idea, They had made some square wooden boxes, in such quick style.    
     
We gathered up all of the mess and packed it all into the wooden boxes. Then we made some very cool, fruit coloured, solid snow bricks. We were going to make some igloos out of the colourful bricks, and try and spend a whole night sleeping inside them.    
     
It wouldn't be that cold inside an igloo, we thought. Eskimo's do it all of the time, and they don't seem to catch that many colds.    
     
When morning had come, we had awoken to find the very cool, fruit coloured, solid snow bricks, had all melted away and we were lying in, not so very cool, fruit coloured, soggy, snow slush.    
     
We laughed and cried and hurried inside to get ourselves dried. I called that creation, 'The very cool, fruit coloured bricks, that just didn't stick'.    
     
Mum said, gather up all of that, not so very cool, fruit coloured, soggy, snow slush, and I will create you a new all time favourite, colourful fruit creation.    
     
She had put the slush and the fruit into several ice trays, and had placed solid sticks over each block and made them stick out a bit, from each of their ends. She then, cut holes in the middle of some plastic cups and placed the cups, on one of the ends.    
     
After a while, our very cool, frozen fruit delight, was ready to bite. We all had one, and yelled out yum, good on ya Mum. For, not only did the cup catch the melting ice, it also caught any fruit that fell off the side.    
     
I named that creation, 'Colourful Ice-Drips & Fruit-Drops in a Cup'. That's my Mum for you, always likes a good clean mess.    
     
Dad said, what a great idea, and that we should all listen more often to our Mums. Then, my Mum joked, 'if only your dad would listen to me more often'.    
     
That night, I was back in my fold-out bed, that popped out from the couch, I slept like a bug in a rug. Even Smoochy, crawled into bed, and gave me, an ever so tight hug, on our very last night, of our silly season, ski holiday trip.
© Fetchitnow
20 October 2019.
This children’s fun adventure book series, is only for children from ages, 1-100. So please enjoy.
Note: Please read these in order, from diary entry 1-12, to get the vibe of all of the characters and the colourful sense of this crazy mess.