5 posts
  • ckfilvan 10w

    0161408 #folkmyth #myth 0211811 #start #ceesreposts

    To whom it may concern:

    Lovers of excellence rather than favoritism. Terrific poets
    @lazybongness @soulfulstirrings @kin_jo @heartsease @siddharthajana @love_whispererr @unspokenpen1927

    @heartsease an strikingly amazing writer. A gem, I'd say
    @murryben who showers her love for a struggling poet. I miss you

    More often than not miraquill is blind to some work, writersnetwork deaf to your calls. It matters not to me as long as you poets have a word on mine.

    I am grateful that out of four or five poems which miraquill has read so far, I won two #pod. And that's really great.
    Yeah as a young child learning to write, I feel down when my teacher pays no heed.

    And it acts as a balm when you stop by to read my little poems.
    Hoping you would love this myth.
    Sending my love to you.
    Let's me conclude with this song.

    There's talk on the street it's there to remind you
    Doesn't really matter which side you're on
    You're walking away and they're talking behind you
    They will never forget you 'til somebody new comes along


    Dumsari - The realm of the Seven Mountains
    Leichinian - Inhabitants of the Dumsari Hills
    Longvar - the protagonist, a man
    Dilia - a nymph, and the love of Longvar


    ‘How can I doff off your peerless beauty,
    Your careless laughter of a nightingale,
    Your step in the fashion of spring-time,
    And your curls of midnight black?’
    Alas! Longvar’s betrothed was gone,
    Banished from the land of Dumsari
    For the Leichinian deemed the nymph
    Not a creation of the same hand.

    ‘My dear, Dilia,’ wailed young Longvar,
    ‘What’s become of the vow we made?
    Oh, would that my heart were a stone!
    I been waiting for the love I have for you
    To fall off and desert my grieving heart,
    And sure like every season autumn comes
    With all its fall, but fails to shake off
    For once your image crafted in my heart.’

    Wildings bowed in commiseration,
    Wild bees arranged their lullabies,
    And curled up in her boudoir she lay
    Drowning in the sea of her sorrows;
    No, nothing could offer consolation
    For separation of two souls in love
    Is too great a scene to paint in words –
    What’s a river divorced from its water.

    ‘My love,’ cried Dilia, ‘I send my bluebird,
    It will convey you my state of despair.
    My bones are cold like a chilly winter
    My heart hollow like a dead flute
    Though upon bed of scented flowers I lie,
    Though wrap in a blanket made of fireflies.
    You alone are the flame to warm my soul
    The melody to fill my hollow space.

    Though a Leichinian I am not, the love
    For you I have is true to last a lifetime;
    Though sevenfold death may part us
    To you only shall I bind my soul.
    Sure as the rain reaches the sand
    And rivers reach the sea, I will look
    For a dwelling made of your bones,
    And therein lay my panting heart to rest.

    Longvar upon knowing wept like a child
    ‘How can my love, my life be banished?
    How can I call such place a heaven
    Which has no room for my dearest one?
    No joy and bliss do I foresee in heaven
    If living in heaven is without you.”
    And so my folks sing Longvar denied
    Respite until he brought his lover home.

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    We are in the ocean of love,
    Why have I to dread of drowning
    When one who is as gentle as a dove
    Through many storms keeps holding
    On to you when halcyon days
    Are far away e'en from wistful bays.

  • ckfilvan 10w

    #myth #folkmyth

    Read more on #folkmyth

    A tale of a flying lizard

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    The ballads of Uleng

    Uleng! Uleng! Do you know my state?
    My parents eat on silver plates;
    Uleng! Uleng! Underneath the eaves
    My hungry hands above plantain leaves.

    He left home when he was still young,
    Weeping he entered the Mystic Jungle;
    None heard the tears and griefs he'd sung,
    Not even Leng--until he was old and rumpled.

    There wailed a plaintive song all the way
    From where, at night, tree tops spangled;
    Then Old Leng put off his work one day
    Recalled his friend lost in the Mystic Jungle.

    Uleng! Uleng! Do you know my state?
    My parents eat on silver plates;
    Uleng! Uleng! Underneath the eaves
    While I eat my meals on plantain leaves.

  • ckfilvan 12w

    #myth #wod #gothicromance

    Dedicated to @woodsorrels_ @murryben @miraquill

    I don't know what I'm writing...
    You can try this #folkmyth I think it's better

    A bit busy.
    I'll try to sneak in to read each one of you

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    Khuangcho’s solace

    If only she could consume those
    Unnumbered snares that were laid
    With the enraged fire of her eyes!
    Do you know this man, they asked.
    Could one forget one’s life, she cried,
    You lay my Hrangchuan dead and cold,
    My tears for him will never grow old.

    You divorce our bodies
    As is night from the day,
    But neither could be cast away
    From heaven that holds them both;
    Only the stronger our souls entwine,
    I cradle him in dust of my skin,
    Warm him with embers of my love.

    When you thrust your dagger
    He will be safe inside my breast,
    Inside a home made of my bones.
    And one night he shall court
    My soul beneath soft moonlight
    And snatches of howling of wolves.

    Lovers like me will kiss and embrace,
    And drink the joy of lovers wine,
    And the stars will roam the night
    Till gentle dews wake the morning calm.

  • ckfilvan 67w


    In a hamlet far away lived the Liandoi brothers,
    So poor were they, they oft had nought to eat;
    One day the folks got the wind of an arrival--
    Lasi* of the grain crops to drive famine away.

    The homes ordered, and the hamlet swept clean,
    The paths were cleared for the goddess to tread;
    A fortnight rolled yet not a trace of Fapi was seen
    Save for an old tramp begging door to door for bread.

    No house welcomed the old tramp in filthy rags,
    They said: Fapi is come, you better be gone!
    She arrived at the Liandoi's who granted her stay,
    Shared their bread and drink in their lowly home.

    They said, You can stay as long as this roof stands
    But food we cannot promise until the Goddess come.
    And the morn that followed was to their amazement--
    A warm hearth and ample dishes awaited them.

    II. STAY
    Two weeks had gone yet the brothers knew not
    Whence come richly dish and meals to share;
    The house kept clean, and the garden green,
    And the old hag growing younger day by day.

    A plan was laid, the brothers to lie in wait,
    To find who their plenteous dishes prepared;
    Before the dawn they saw a lady in the garden
    Her fingers were green and seemed to speak life.

    The brothers now mystified rose in utter wonder
    For never had they seen so heavenly a creature,
    She beckoned them nigh, they bowed and knelt,
    They had entertained Fapi, Mother of the hungry.

    Blessed ones were they to count among man
    To possess everything when they had nothing;
    The house had Fapi and plenty had the barren land,
    Summer got greener, the harvest more golden.

    Barns were full, and orchards gold and red,
    The folks grew rich as famine left the hamlet
    Too plenty made the Liandoi's forget the oath
    They took when they pleaded Fapi to stay.

    They watched and danced round the flame
    As they set on fire to so singular this certain vine,
    She forbade men to burn the plant so divine
    Yet curiosity led 'em to watch her die in pain.

    She floundered round a mound in great agony,
    Writhed and squirmed, and mourned and wept;
    'Twas not the flaming vine alone that pained Fapi,
    The breach of the vow and their disobedience did.

    She lay fair as her frame to golden burnt,
    No breath stayed with her to see another day;
    The Liandoi wept and brought a jar, too late--
    The golden ashes rose up and heaven inhaled.

  • ckfilvan 86w

    #myth #fragments #julietscorner #mirakee


    In the world of micropoems, I'm still writing long ones #folkmyth

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    Mairing's Lament

    Arrange, young men,
    The lament of Mairingthang;
    So sad was his song,
    So sweet was its tune.
    "The fangs of my stepmother
    Dig deep in my flesh
    That I often seek death as my lover.
    She sets me up to upset
    The boudoir of a tigress,
    And chance to visit a nest
    Of a bear robbed of her cubs.
    Yet not my tongue speaks against her
    For I hope in her the blossoming
    Of the loving heart of a mother.

    "My woeful plight stands in the way
    Of betrothing the woman I love--
    If only love not be left unrequited!
    For Khubchung as much loves me
    As does my beloved Kangreng;
    How grateful am I to Khubchung--
    Who replaces with warm food
    The filth my mother packs for luncheon.
    Kangreng, O my only one
    Is an anchor in my tempestuous sea
    When life kisses with venomous lips."

    It is told that on a certain evening
    Khubchung, the fair witch
    And Kangreng, the mortal
    Followed Mairing up a rocky cliff
    Who played his flute until
    His spirit broke and fell off the chasm
    Some say Seven Rainbows high;
    Devastated by the deathly scene
    The women rushed to join him
    And blended with his dust leaving behind
    Their baskets and their sad, sad world.

    Then out of the tragic ground
    (so the west wind sings)
    Where the three souls lay
    Rose a bloody rose on which
    Wound intricately two exotic flowers.