Isles of Light

By Felix Bongjoh

Light as poetically and realistically captured in its natural form from the sun, and as produced by man through electrical devices, has an impact on how individuals in society, as compared with groups, interact with each other and use it for their daily lives. Beyond light as physically manifested in transparent, plasmatic ions, there is light, an inspiration from within, that leads an individual or groups of individuals, each in their own isles of light, to plough through life’s intricacies and savor its pleasures, while avoiding life’s dark side. Virtually all the poems in this book deal with ordinary sceneries and experiences, each of which may be interpreted in the context of imagery extensively used from one poem to another. Whether in the office, at home behind the mountains and woods, in times of peace and war, in dreams and in expressive moods of joy and gloom, love and hate, life tends to permeate individuals and groups alike in their interactions with each other. Most of the poems have been crafted within this broad framework of light.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Dec 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9781490798783

Felix Bongjoh

Felix Bongjoh, currently living in Boston, Massachusetts, is an International Human Capital Development Consultant, who previously worked for an international organization for some 30 years. In addition to the present twenty-fifth book, Saddle On Thunder, Bongjoh has previously published 24 books of poetry, as follows: (i) Chorus on a Bridge; (ii) Broken Gloss of Bliss; (iii) Nightfall at Dawn; (iv) When Dusk Hoots; (v) Weeds of Jewelry; (vi) Season of Flowers; (vii) The Ineluctable Spin; (viii) Gloom’s Sprout of Love; (ix) Spectrum of Zephyrs; (x) Whistles in the Wind; (xi) The Sun Still Glitters; (xii) Cliff of Sirens; (xiii) Quiet Shadows Scream; (xiv) Angle of Angels; (xv) Sculpted Out of Sky; (xvi) Feathers of Fur; (xvii) Through Sundry Waves; (xviii) Beyond Dying Ripples; (xix) Doors to Eris; (xx) Outskirts of Inner Bowl; (xxi) Ebbing Out, Bouncing Back; (xxii) Tailored To The Stars; (xxiii) A Storm Wave’s Reach; and (xxiv) Isles Of Light.

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Copyright 2020 Felix Bongjoh.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4907-9877-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4907-9878-3 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Trafford rev. 12/12/2019

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Contents

An Old Man’s Torn Evening

Anthills

Through Thorns’ Teeth

To A Dorm Nanny

A Bridge of Weeping

Five-petaled Hands

The Fire Of Love

Slipped-Off Toddler

Wingspan

Moonlit Lake Of Blood

Bed Of A Fleeing Refugee

Wintry Wind Bites

From A Dangling Tree Branch

Bleating Ribbons

Meowing At Death

Thunder’s Seed

Storm Wave’s Lounge

The Rainstorm

One Falcon, Two Pelicans

Gems

Scrambled Clouds At A Shore

Mouthless Yell

Mountain Risen From Blood

Early Winter Dawn

A Hunter’s Fire Of Zeal

Canopy Behind The Hills

Red Lights In Mouth’s Traffic

Lost Evening

Blacksmith’s Fire

Curves On A Dying Face

A Bird Of Paradise’s Love

Brugmansia

Isles Of Light

Dim Candle Light

A Jeweled Messenger

Storm’s Rumble

A Poet’s Ink-Spilled Sheet

Helicopter Of A Corncrake

Full-moon Morning

Agelast

This book is dedicated to Agnes Josiane

Bongjoh, my beloved departed daughter

An Old Man’s Torn Evening

(i)

The old man floats

all evening

in the gems

of a season’s twilight.

In disentangled weaves

of close braids,

evening hangs down,

dreadlocks

of clouds with serge

and loose edges.

(ii)

In the flowers

of early evening wings

ribbons

of light and color amble

and hesitate

like sky’s suspension marks

breaking scribbles

and notes

left by cloudy patches.

(iii)

Who reads wiry

and spider-legged

messages

on an unstitched sky

meant for a soothsayer,

a snake of lightning

wriggling through sky,

and tight silky fabric

of a rainbow

bandages and plasters

the bleeding

plasmatic horizon?

(iv)

Who deciphers

and signs off

on scratched scripts,

on a broken

dancing ceiling,

as grey drizzles

brush and wheeze through?

The old man

in a lame cane chair

thrust high

onto the dust-lined hill

waves a sky’s hand.

(v)

A waved huge palm,

from which lines

stand out and run

into a shadowed shore

under red-lit streets

iroko hands

raised to split a glass sky,

buds and petals

falling back in biting splinters

and catapulted

sun-wrapped cobblestones

exploding

into a Kepler night.

Anthills

(i)

Clusters of a spirit

bond folk

in a city’s hinterland.

On unseamed

coastal shores too.

Like ants, city dwellers

sprawl in close columns

and curved rows,

cottages sticking back to back,

shoulder to shoulder.

Small houses too touch,

strayed mandible

to mandible,

egg-edged metasoma

breaking no edge

of an elliptic metasoma.

They carve out

the