Gilbert Pangyarihan

Gilbert Pangyarihan Poems

To the children of the world

I know only poems with rhyme
That stay in tune with ev’ry clime.
...

A gift for Australia and the children of the world
Edited by Adrienne Barnathan (Australian)

I dreamt of Australia,
...

To the children of the world

I'll recite a poem very long;
I'll sit down, end of song.
...

To the children of the world

Writing poems is nice,
Makes you happy and wise
...

To the children of the world

I found the arrow of Longfellow,
While alone hiking on a boondock,
...

Fernando Poe, Jr.,
The Blacksmith of folklore,
Great Leveler actor,
A son our country bore,
...

In Memoriam: Victims of 9/11 Attacks
(Homage to Longfellow)

I flew a kite up in the sky,
...

Though they may say I am bad,
Though they may think I am mad,
Though it makes me feel real sad,
I will not serve a cruel god.
...

To whom does the land belong?
It belongs to the mighty and the strong.
From Egyptian Pharaohs to Chinese emperors,
From Roman gladiators to Spanish conquistadors -
...

The birds are flying; they are a-coming.
They are bringing, swinging a song to sing;
...

Bird songs wake me in the morn.
I still am; I must be dreaming.
...

I went to the forest to find a violin;
I did not rest; I did not lean.
And lo! On a hill in Tanay,
I saw with a smile unspoilt trees still lie.
...

Doctor Jose Rizal once said,
The hope of the future is the youth.
But sometimes I can't sleep in bed,
Thinking if it's a myth or the truth.
...

I long to play my violin,
To tuck its butt under my chin,
To draw the bow across the strings
And do bravura fingerings.
...

Gilbert Pangyarihan Biography

(Later))

The Best Poem Of Gilbert Pangyarihan

I Know Only Poems With Rhyme

To the children of the world

I know only poems with rhyme
That stay in tune with ev’ry clime.
I know only poems with beat
That make me stand up on my feet.
When poets all have breathed their last,
And poems are buried in dust,
Then children will come out in time
To dig the poems, black with grime.
And when the cloud of dust is gone,
And children are through having fun,
They’ll throw away poems like lime
But pick up only those with rhyme.

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