Cambodian Flower

I’m reposting this poem for Human Trafficking Awareness month. This was written in 2011 for the problem in Cambodia but it is a worldwide issue.

white lotus

©Bahman Farzad / lotusflowerimages.com

Falling petals brush her face,
fantasies fill time and space.
Mae’s soft kisses touch her cheeks,
a kind whisper softly speaks.
Desperation tugs and bays,
darkness fills the longest days.
Sweaty faces, frenzied hands,
sunny beaches, waves and sands.
Dirty kisses lick her neck,
torture keeps rebels in check.
Childhood dreams, childhood friends,
heavy breathing, soon it ends.
Lotuses float overhead,
how she wishes she were dead.

Copyright © 2011 Norma Martiri

Form: Couplet

(Mae = mother in Khmer)

Please help educate and empower these beautiful children by donating:

Destiny Rescue
New Hope Cambodia
She Rescue Home
Somaly Mam Foundation

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Cambodian Flower

Flickr Image by khoaphongdieu

Falling petals brush her face,
Fantasies fill time and space.
Mae’s soft kisses touch her cheeks,
A kind whisper softly speaks.
Desperation tugs and bays,
Darkness fills the longest days.
Sweaty faces, frenzied hands,
Sunny beaches, waves and sands.
Dirty kisses lick her neck,
Torture keeps rebels in check.
Favourite ball games played with friends,
Heavy breathing, soon it ends.
Lotuses float overhead,
How she wishes she were dead.

Copyright © 2011 Norma Martiri

Form: Couplet

(Mae = mother in Khmer)

Please help educate and empower these beautiful children by donating:

Destiny Rescue
New Hope Cambodia
She Rescue Home
Somaly Mam Foundation

Watch video below



The Battle of a National Icon

Flickr Image by Seo paslaugos

Towering gum trees stand majestic
Eucalyptus, nature’s domestic.

Adorable with real distinction
Staring down the barrel of extinction.

Habitats devoured by hungry machines
Apathetic world needs other means.

Frightened koalas cling to felled trees
Greedy developers do as they please.

Urban sprawl, a disease to nature
Progress ensures there’ll be no future.

The race is on to save furry friends
On us our treasured icon depends.

Copyright © 2011 Norma Martiri

Form: Couplet

Save the Koalas

The Village

Flickr Image by Rita Crane

Their quiet existence
Was based on tradition,
Fuelled by superstition,
And bound by ignorance.

Gossip, so relished, was a distraction
Hard work their survival,
Religion their dictator,
And villagers their judge.

Food, the core of existence
Moved beyond tasty delights
And was made humbly and with love.
It was their way of touching a soul.

Migration came from necessity.
Homesick and lost they resisted change,
And like an ex-lover’s obsession, never let go.
So with their minds indelibly scarred,
Their memories interminable,
And their psyche impermeable,
They brought their village
To the new land.

Copyright (c) March 2011 Norma Martiri

Form: Free Verse