Poetry

By Bai T. Moore The nation cannot rise above The pains of common masses Whose devotion and the country’s love Is rooted in the simple homes Of bamboo mats and mud Roofed with grass and raffia palm The rich black dirt entwined with streams That nourish paddy fields with crops Which offer tho what scanty … Read more…

By Bai T. Moore I wandered in the moonlit night to view the glory of the past The ruins of those pioneer days were silhouetted against the light where once stood mansions decked with pride now ruled by vipers and the bats are ‘nough to make one stop and sigh The broken frames can hardly … Read more…