Poetry Visualized

ELEGY FOR FILIPINA OVERSEAS WORKERS

Video rendering of \

mosaic_Tamkast

storytelling in a new visual way

mosaic_Journey

storytelling in a new visual way

Santa Barbara California

Journey with me to Southern California life at its finest...

INCLEMENCY

It's like in summer,

when your throat is dry

your lips draw tight,

your lungs refuse the air,

it's all you think about.

You dread the sky.

Your ears are singed.

Your lids can't shield the glare.

Just so

when traveling in a foreign land

you find yourself

seem stupid, lost, alone,

because to eat or shop

or understand directions

all you do is shrug and groan.

Oppressive, daunting, endless,

feeling trapped within

an age-old nightmare circumstance,

to cope seems futile,

let alone adapt.

But, oh that moment when,

by gust or glance,

in curse or whisper,

whether slurred or sung

that soothing breeze!

You hear your native tongue.

Simple Kiwi Pleasures

As I drove from Auckland to Whangarei, the beauty of the land caught my attention so naturally I had to take pictures and pen this poem in Free Verse. Please enjoy.

The scenery
of the Aotearoa landscape
on the road to Whangarei
is breathtakingly beautiful;

From north to south,
east and the west,
on all sides the traffic flows;
in an on ending line
both fast and slow.

The awesomeness
of the rolling hills,
the trees and fauna
of every shape and kind
burst with dazzling beauty,
from the exhilarating rays of the sun;

They spread their glow of splendour,
like the neon lights
beaming across the Auckland Harbour;

Everywhere through searching eyes,
are flower-strewn meadows,
and babbling brooks and streams,
that lap up the springtime air;

While beneath the trees
and in the fields,
golden daffodils stand
with their trumpets,
lifted proudly towards the winds;

They herald in the musical sounds
of the forested land;

Now high above
in the azure sky
whipped cream images
with unique designs
gently float on by.

And at the mountain base,
sheep and lambs do graze
and frolic with a stately prance.

Such simple pleasures
are found
in Aotearoa

Land of the Long White Cloud...

Pohutukawa

Winter has gone

at last into retreat

and spring is here;

The sky is blue

with little cloud now,

has given the Pacific flow

into Whangaparaoa Bay

its colour too;

The striking backdrop

of trees

are evergreens

along the shore

of Orewa;

Those of which, I have

never seen before

The midday sun steams on many heads;

on the beach,

and mixes well with Westerlies;

as all kinds of people

are scanning the sands,

doing all sorts of activities

the beach demands.

And here am I

from the distant land

of the West Indies

walking in the springtime air

on the beach;

A seagull one of many

stopped to gaze on me;

as pipi shells crackled

from the pressure

of my joggging feet;

Drenched am I with mist

before my hiking gig is complete

On the coast I see vulcanized rocks;

amid marram dunes;

so unlike the coral stones

of Port St. Charles.

The granular dust

between my toes

is grey in every way:

And not at all like the white sands

found on the Bajan bay;

yet this Kiwi scenery is awesme

and makes me want to stay:

I see trees standing in a line

both smal and tall,

whose massive crowns

the coastal winds do mould;

They welcome and salute

the clapping beat of the sea,

that spreads its froth

on the shoreline for all to see;

Further on are trees

whose prehensile roots

grasp the coastal cliffs

like hanging baskets of green;

They spin such intricate webs

as they creep, burrow and dive;

To stay alive with ferent toil

they search for moisture;

and that firm bed of soil

on which to coil;

so adaptive

wherever they choose to grow!

They colonize the bays,

coastal rocks and the forest,

as they proudly stand

with gnarled trunks;

And stringy barks of steel

their greenery,

and growing ways

have environmental appeal

To a Bajan like me,

they look like mahogany trees

without the pods,

but I'm told that they are not;

Only Pohutukawa trees

full of Maori mythology;

A twig from Pohutukawa

I took;

To study

Its technology;

As I penned the poem;

To see Pohutukawa trees all over Orewa,

in gardens and around Hillary Square,

fixed my attention, this beautiful sight;

This changing scene caught my eyes,

so too, the warmth of the air,

and bright colours in full bloom,

lapping up the sunshine's electrifying rays;

As I stroll on the beach in skimpy wear,

the Pohutukawa silvery bulbs were no longer there;

They had changed;

The Pohutukawa was now ablaze

with deep red blooms glowing

on every bough

brings the festive season

to the hearts

of all the folks

in beautiful Niu Tireni.

They love Pohutukawa

for it is their Christmas tree.

This Free Verse poem captures my activities while strolling the beach during the Spring of 2004 along the Hibiscus Coast, New Zealand. In fact, I consider it to be one of my many travel poems. I would like to add animations to my movie but I don't know how. I would like to be able to put movement in the pictures and sound effects. I was wondering if I could get some tips on how PSP might help.

Living in Petra

Film recovered from the ruins of the Jerusalem Engine Repair Company

FROSTS POETIC ODYSSEY VOL.1 - Mt Ruapehu New Zealand

A lone man discovers himself (in a rental car)...

Budapest

Billy Collins, former US Poet Laureate and one of America's best-selling poets, reads his poem "Budapest" with animation by Julian Grey of Headgear. Noted for their intelligent humor, accessibility and observations on daily life, Collins' popular poems come alive further in a series of animated poems produced by JWT-NY. - - - - - The Poem - My pen moves along the page like the snout of a strange animal, shaped like a human arm and dressed in the sleeve of a loose green sweater. I watch it sniffing thepaper ceaselessly, intent as any forager that has nothing on its mind but the grubs and insects that will allow it to live another day. It wants only to be here tomorrow, dressed perhaps in a sleeve of a plaid shirt, nose pressed against the page, writing a few more dutiful lines while I gaze out the window and imagine Budapest, or some other city where I have never been.