Leonard Fong Roka
Biography of Leonard Fong Roka
I am from the Panguna District of Bougainville in the South Pacific.
I write about my island's political, social and cultural issues. We have gone through war as a result of long periods of relegation and exploitation firstly from colonial powers then much later under the Papua New Guineans that rule our island
Writing is the only way I turn to promote my island and people and also, it is the way I am releasing my emotions to the world.
Since 2011 I have published poems in Keith Jackson & Friends: PNG Attitude (http: //asopa.typepad.com) and my own blog Leonard Fong Roka (http: //lfongroka.blogspot.com) .
I need to further market my island.
Leonard Fong Roka's Works:
Leonard Fong Roka Poems
The First And The Last Kiss From Kosia
Under the swaying cool of a mango tree we stood; Statues of long lost lovers, on a shimmering street of Arawa. Wilfreda was fine a girl of the fecund Kosia slopes That paced high on stilts that kept me dancing to narrate
I think You were human Down history road. Once colonised and enslaved.
The New Guinean barrel faces me And my mouth waters. The soldier teases me And my ears burn…
Fool In The Hill
Freedom is yours…Freedom is yours… Bougainville, freedom is ours. A lone mountain frog croaks: ‘German, American ocean submarine bringing you guns and bullets
Davire, My Great Warrior
New Guinea morons they came to mine our land and built they country; as you were breast-feeding at Kavaronau.
The Magic Of Kunu’nava
Nem’makaa … the magic little boy loves blowing his kovi  high in the black hills.
Island Of Tears
Blackman, A thief in his Africa; A disease in his Australia; An on-looker of his pride and wealth on Bougainville
They cross the seas in dozens…island hopping! The Kawas dreaded and hid Silently secured in heaven of gold. Of gracious heavens, he wandered…
On A Date Bed
At menarche, Down the road to Dotama… On my bare foot That gloomy day, for god’s sake,
Ovau Is My Island
Torau Bay knows that; Olava knows that; thus, Moisuru and Tokuaka longs to hear that song of re-union. Ovau is my island. Kamaleai knows that; Ghaomai knows that; thus, Harehare loves to see that marriage
On A Date Bed
Down the road to Dotama…
On my bare foot
That gloomy day, for god’s sake,
I whispered to Wils:
“In love we are…where there’s will
There’s a way
Along all oddities of life.
My girl, no rides as you may think,