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Best Burmese Poems | Poetry

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Burmese Python by Kopec, Patrycjusz
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Be a Flame



Burning candle tells a tale of pure selfless life Be such a flame let your aim be to tame darkness. =========000========= A Than-Bauk, conventionally a witty saying or epigram, is a three line "climbing rhyme" poem of Burmese origin. Each line has four syllables. The rhyme is on the fourth syllable of the first line, the third syllable of the second line, and the second syllable of the third line. =========000==========
.


Copyright © kash poet | Year Posted 2012


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The Project

The Project


Son's science quest,
insect nest finds;
school's best project.

Saves in his room.
Wakes to doom when
with gloom, he cries.

Hundreds now crawl.
Every wall sports
hatched small mantes.


Sandra M. Haight

~9th Place~
Contest: Than-Bauk on Human Folly
Sponsor: Marugu Mo
Theme: Foolish and Funny
Judged: 03/11/2016

True Story!
----------------------------------------
A Than-Bauk, conventionally a witty saying or epigram, is a three line "climbing rhyme" poem of Burmese origin. Each line has four syllables. The rhyme is on the fourth syllable of the first line, the third syllable of the second line, and the second syllable of the third line. 


Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016


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Film Noir

Film Noir

By the lampost at night
with the pale moon shining bright
but obscured by the fog
I saw her in the harbor
standing where my boat lay moored
but she knew that
her azure eyes beckoned me to come
smoke from a cigarette in her hand
trailing upward and blendng with mist
and a gold braid around her wrist
I remembered my gift

I stood there transfixed
if for only a moment
then I walked to her slowly
and tipped my fedora
and the little joke we shared in love
I asked,”Where have been all my life?
Waiting for you, she said
I laughed at her resentfully and said
You left me here from this place
without a note, without a trace
I scoured old haunts, you weren’t there
you left as if you didn’t care

Remember our walks along the shore
your favorite drink, our special place
in a cafe by the window
where the sun would shine on your hair
and leaving a golde glint
as it did on my boat when it was in full sail

Then one day you went away
our love became a mystery
that was never solved
now you’re here and I ask you, why?

There was a war she said
I lost this guy and you came along
to fill the void and share my grief
I loved you, Jake,your silly hat
the way you tipped it, the boat ,the cat
who begged for fish after after every catch
she paused and lit another smoke

Then one day, he showed up, his name was Cilve
the guy I mentioned had survived
and left his tags with a guy who died
and he became an MIA
he was hiding out in Mandalay
involved in something, he wouldn’t say
but he wanted me there, he promised me fame
I was a singer you know
and all the dough that I could want or I could take
I just had to know how to play the game
but I thought of you, Jake
and what we had and I told him ,No

He got mean, Jake
and threatened to expose me 
for what I really was
and I couldn’t bear for you to hear 
my sordid past, my constant fear
We’re both alike you and me, he said
we’ll take what the world has to give
or grab it by the throat
or I’ll expose you if you don’t

As time went by it didn’t take long
to see he was singing a different song
his lies, his schemes, his other dolls
I lost my respect and I didn’t care
I had to get out, I needed a plan
to rid myself of this rotten man

There was this guy, Dwight
who ran the bar, he pitied my plight
that I was in, he hated Clive as much as I 
I told him I watched Clive at the end of each night
the cash he hid in a special place
no doubt to leave in a hurry when things got hot
he would check to see how much was stashed
if it was worth the dare, we would split down the middle 
and make our departure as soon as we could
I knew a Burmese captain of a scow
who asked no questions for a fee
he’d  have some cabins for you and me

Just before closing, I feigned getting ill
and called for Clive to aid me somehow
to stay awhile and give me a pill
and while he was there, Buck went to that spot
took the cash and lit out that night to wait for me
at a pre destined place


My bag was packed in another room
I told Clive I would rest and join him soon
but as soon as he left I slipped out
to the back grabbed a bag and headed
for freedom away from that man
thinking of you and to make things right

She paused for a moment and put out her smoke
and I thought I saw a drop of blood 
form on the corner of her mouth
she quickly wiped her hand across her face
and continued her story at a slower pace

I arrived at the pier where the scow lay docked
took one look behind me and looked at the clock
on the building we were to meet
I checked my watch and matched the time
I saw a jeep and he saw me
two grips in his hand and a smile on his face
he said, I got the dough , I’ll leave the jeep
it’s the least I can do for that miserable creep
I said ,there’s no time to waste, just show me the dough
we’ll split it up now and get ready to go
he said, Oh, I’m ready but the plans have changed
I’ll leave you enough to change your luck
this one’s for you and this one’s for Buck

I suspected as much and I scowed as he grinned
but his mouth formed an O as he looked down below
a knife in his stomach pulsed blood from his guts
too late I saw his gun come up as he fell
I felt a pain in my side and clutched at my coat
I picked up my bags and summoned the strength
to get onto the boat

I said to the captain, there’s double the price
if we get away soon just pick up some steam 
and head for Rangoon
he patched me up as good as he could
with the aid of rum and smoldering wood
to cauterize the wound for awhile

I knew it was wrong to take his life
but I was prepared to kill him 
to end all this strife
as a precautionI took the knife that we cut bait with
a long time ago the knife stirred up memories
that you and I had
that pressed my decision to leave that cad
the wound didn’t heal, the lead stayed inside
i was resigned to my fate to see you once more
before it’s too late…and here you are

She collapsed in my arms and I held her tight
with tears in my eyes , her audible sighs
gasping for breath and leaning toward death

And before she expired her hand on my face, she said
Where have you been all my life?
waiting for you , I cried, waiting for you

*This poem is a tribute to the black and white movies prevalent in the
late 30’s and 40’s ala Humphrey Bogart, Alan Ladd or George Raft and the phrasing had a special charm.There was aways a failed romance, war, misguided loyaties and clandestine 
treachery that separted these lovers. I received an N/A  because it may have not been poetic enough or too long but I tried to portray a dialogue and atmosphere of that time 













Copyright © Ralph Sergi | Year Posted 2015


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myanmar poem, poetry, poet from myanmar

For many people outside the Myanmar poetry, it may come as a surprise that there is such a thing as language-oriented poetry contemporary poetry scene in Myanmar. The Poetry of the bourgeoisie and the "art for the people" left-wing poetry.
I feel like I have to say to me about how this had happened in Myanmar, the country was under military rule over the past 60 years their poetry broke away from the traditional style classic writing about the monarchy the old and the Burmese Old Burmese way of life before the annexation of British Burma in 1886. The hair experimental poetry movement 1 of the 20th century, was 2 in the movement of new writing, which led pilot Dag on (which is now in his 90s and blind), after the end of World War 2. Influenced by left-wing ideology known of the historical period popular poetry, realism and the Marxist-oriented, through the 40S late. There was at that time, an ideological struggle between the so-called "art for art's sake" The Poetry of the bourgeoisie and the "art for the people" left-wing poetry. Has described those who did not support writing the new "bourgeois" and blasted the "progressives." Although the new writing system that is based on experimental poetry rhyme 4.3.2 with some changes in the number of syllables in each line rhyme scheme, which makes it more flexible, and was aimed at, faith, and the content of a revolutionary. The art for the masses, and poetry is the weapon of the masses against the landowners and capitalists and national. It is unfortunate that the writing of new, while winning the hearts and minds of an entire generation of young poets, and in some cases made just propaganda, and the adage is that the hair must be less aesthetic and utilitarian more so that even the common person would low education "appreciate" poem with ease. UNSUPPORTED CODE myanmar poem UNSUPPORTED CODE 


Copyright © sanjit saha | Year Posted 2012


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Carmen Lucia Ruby

                                Peter loved his wife Carmen Lúcia
                             Their love 's color was tranquil fuchsia 
                                 Their love took shape in Mogok
                                    In depth of the Mother rock
                                     Big red ruby-poem of Gaia










HISTORY
The Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C. has received one of the world's largest and finest ruby gemstones. The 23.1 carats (4.62 g) Burmese ruby, set in a platinum ring with diamonds, was donated by businessman and philanthropist Peter Buck in memory of his late wife Carmen Lúcia. This gemstone displays a richly saturated red color combined with an exceptional transparency. The finely proportioned cut provides vivid red reflections. The stone was mined from the Mogok region of Burma (now Myanmar) in the 1930s.




Precious Stones and Gems - Poetry Contest 
Sponsor:Anthony Slausen
Poet: Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
Form: Limerick
Theme: Love, Ruby, Precious stone


Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2014


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Useless Money

Useless Money 

I often get petitioning letters so many people trying 
to find a place to live and only receive a bitter refusal 
and see their children die of thirst and hunger. 
I wish to help them, but no money in the world is 
enough to stop this flood of humanity seeking a haven
flotsam, the wreck of the unfortunate and we can do 
nothing but look another way.

Overwhelmed by the misery I can do little about, but
the woman from Myanmar who won a medal for her 
tenacity, choose not to speak. The friendly Buddhists 
are killing Muslims in their midst, they have become 
refugees; the woman from Myanmar is voiceless.
 She, the upper-class daughter of a Burmese general
Who aristocratic behaviour impressed us deeply, 
But I ask why she is staying silent now. 


Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2015


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Dressed Blues

<                                                 he took the fall
                                                   dressed blues call now
                                                   hearts wall skips beat

 

Written by Katherine Stella 8/7/11



A Than-Bauk, conventionally a witty saying or epigram, is a three line "climbing rhyme" poem of Burmese origin. Each line has four syllables. 

The rhyme is on the fourth syllable of the first line, the third syllable of the second line, and the second syllable of the third line. 

Tribute To U.S Marine Corps
Hu RAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH


Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2011


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My shy wife was a princess of Babazoa





                                 My shy wife was a princess of Babazoa

                               Her dessert was cream lizard from Samoa

                                        She inherited a princely sum

                                    And went to the Big Gabazoa slum

                          And bought chilled bum for her sweet Burmese Boa


Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2015


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Burmese Python

The Burmese python lives in a creek
Far away from cold arctic
His body is colorful mosaic
The beautiful patterns are very sleek 

His patterns are like ones of warriors and knots of Celtic
But in case of this python blue is centric
Like an entry gate to out world the pattern is cryptic
Most of its hues are covered from view but their amount is sick

The idea of evolution being environment in out world they try to mimic
That is why the patterns are like mosaic
They are words in most ancient Gaelic 
The ever increasing patterns express ever developing spirit in plane of trans cosmic 


Copyright © Patrycjusz Kopec | Year Posted 2013


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White World

This is a Burmese climbing rhyme. It needs work. But we have had so much snow, of course, I thought about snowbirds. Haha.

White world snowbird
Hunts lunch blurred under fluff
He heard the seed would be there
Bird didn’t have a prayer; the crow
What share could he give the corvine
Better the bovine give him the boot
Or murine play tag with that twitterer
Crows are for the birds
The best words I can tell you
Two-thirds of them are no good
The seed blew through ice crystals
It flew over the cuckoos nest.


Copyright © Robyn Campbell | Year Posted 2016


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Once

Once, 
About ten minutes ago in the year 
2006 or 
2549, depending upon which avatar or
 Messiah is consulted, I  
 Tumbled out of my bed to the 
Untranslatable 
Predawn
 Cackle of 
Frantic voices
Descending.
 
So, with urgency
 Rarely experienced since the 
Evacuation of my spirit
From the Land of
Possession Addiction, I was called to summon previously 
Unknown prowess 
Chancing traffic choked streets
Of Nakhorn (used to mean “New City” 700 years ago but not sure now) 
Chiang Mai.

So there I was
Aboard my mostly pint-sized for a European descendent Kawasaki 112,
Red-blooded American head 
Protruding 
turret-like out of an
Undersized helmet that,
If nothing else,
 Officially pronounced me foreign
 Blazing a jutted path around 
Decrepit trishaws,
Ubiquitously red baht busses and,
Not the least, a motorcycle with a sidecar bandaged to its
 Aching side just in time to witness a
Spit-shined just out of the wrapper BMW 
Brusque aside a
 Sardine packed dump truck
 Loaded, 
Not with dirt, but five dollar a day 
Laborers.

All this and more
 Just moments before
 Mounting the silted Ping and
 Stampeding city gates, I glimpsed
Censored Snippets of TV reports blurting something unintelligible like
 “Bangkok coup”,
“Corruption”,
“A King”
And
Somewhere,
Quite uncensored, of a not so pleased
 Laozi,
Lotus splayed in
Meditation
Kneading the Eastern soil one 
Daoist grain at a time,
 Before ancient city walls
Rose up,
Monolithic in my path. 

And then the recall that
Centuries before,
Burmese raiders
Resplendent in warrior garb
Plundered the palace and soul
Of the kingdom Thai before stealthily
Creeping back to their lairs,
Buddha-fat with riches.

That leaves the Siamese of 1935
 And me, to wonder
Where is freedom
When we travel so far 
Pell mell and
 Peril, only to discover
 In a fleeting brief moment the road to 
Iniquity marked, rather
 Erroneously, with the signpost to
 Promises?




Copyright © Jeff Troyer | Year Posted 2011


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Unabridged Heart


When I watch how you so gracefully move,
there are not enough words
to describe how I feel about you
This is just my unabridged heart speaking true
Adminiculate ...
Here is the evidence, the supporting proof:
after all these years, I'm even more in love with you
I love how you talk to me when you come home,
I love what you do to me when we're alone
Your skin tastes so good down to the bone
Bodice ...
You don't need anything to keep your waist tight,
you let it all hang out every night
You're the love of my life;
when I married you, I didn't think twice
Chavicha ...
Columbian woman, fought upstream to survive
You're feisty as salmon, my beautiful South American wife
Don't know what I'd do without you,
don't even wanna think about it
Just loving the fact that everyday next to me is where you sit
Xanthine ...
Our love can't be dissolved,
we always got closer after every problem we solved
You made my life so happy bright like yellow sunshine,
you sweet flower love of mine
Yuan ...
Ain't enough money in the world, my China doll,
that can buy your love away from me
You got everything I need
You never made my heart bleed;
never walked away, making me beg, baby please ... don't leave me
Zayat ...
Come, my love, and rest your heart in my heart
underneath the Burmese trees, cooled by the balmy breeze
And let me tell you the A, B, C's of what your love means to me
Come, my love, and rest your soul in my heart
beneath these aromatic trees, warmed by the summer breeze
And let me tell you the X, Y, Z's of what your love means to me
A love unabridged to my heart eternally


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017


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Leaf

This leaf possessed
of newest age,
with zest, upturned. 

05 Aug 2014

"Than-Bauk, conventionally a witty saying or epigram, is a three line "climbing 
rhyme" poem of Burmese origin. Each line has four syllables. The rhyme is on 
the fourth syllable of the first line, the third syllable of the second line, and the 
second syllable of the third line" - From Poetry Soup Forms 


Copyright © david mohn | Year Posted 2014


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burmese scarecrow



   synthetic textile ghost, or maybe a
 brown burlap bag
    hanging over a shovel in the garden.

    along its side reads burmese long grain rice.

     it is raining heavely and the water has begun
    to create tiny puddles in the dirt..

    i can hear the wind blowing sheats 
  of rain across the grass.

   i imagine green rice fields and wooden
   ox carts mixing in the monsoon clay ethic.

  burmese burlap hanging in the wind,
  from what fields have you come?

who painted those markings on you?

 was your birthplace holy?

the pool of bethseda is at your feet.









   
   


Copyright © nathan martin | Year Posted 2012


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My Love For A Princess

There are many flowers 
I can compare you to
But I cannot remember any of their names
You may taste like a fresh fig
Or you may smell like jasmine
And you may look like a Burmese princess
But my tears will never dry up
I have met you many times
In another world
Where my love can live freely
Without restraint
Without laughing at herself
Our eyes have never met
Our hands have never touched
And your hair
Has never been kissed by my lips
Do not always hide in politics
Burma is more than that
Not just a place with many tears
Torture and iron bars
Burma is the place of many lost souls
Looking to escape to a citadel of peace
We may never touch each other
But always speak kind words
Across a border with thousands of refugees
And machine gun fire
Killing all the children
Who have come too late 
To walk up the steps to lasting peace 
When the only place to hide
Is inside a temple
Sometimes
And your precious heart


Copyright © RAINER LOVEIAM | Year Posted 2011


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Zin

Pakistan is weeping now
weeping Burmese burnt dreams
weeping Cubans in Darfur
weeping Venezuelans
North Korea is weeping still
weeping Iranian uranium dream
weeping Chinese in Tibet
weeping Russians
the world wails
	    waning
and We sleep to dream


Copyright © Sean Cosslett Moore | Year Posted 2007


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How Hot Was It

It was hot yesterday. How hot was it you ask?
It was so hot outside that I'd rather be in class doing math,
It was so hot when I heard a joke that was funny I actually forgot to laugh.

How hot was it at one o'clock?
Hot enough to make me feel like I didn't have time to check my watch,
Hotter than Megan Fox wearing wool socks with Crocs
Walking across hot coals to ask me to elope and I said "No thanks, it's too hot."

How hot was it? 
Like a billion degrees. 
I wasn't even willing to sneeze,
Because in this heat,
That would bring me to my knees.
I felt like I was Lebanese in the summer,
Or a Burmese Python putting the squeeze on a woolen sheep with a sunburn.

How how was it? 
Would you like to discuss it?
Hotter than the temper of some guy who's Kate Upton's cousin,
Hot enough to cook a Tuscan Raider without an oven,
Hot enough to make Darth Vader sweat in the vacuum of space over Russia.

How hot was it?
I was in a state of coldness withdrawal,
I wanted to jump off the Empire State Building just for the breeze from the fall.
It was hot enough to make PETA say it was okay to rain cats and dogs,
And believe me, I was appalled.



Copyright © Tom Murray | Year Posted 2015


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Film Noir

	Film Noir

By the lamppost at night
with the pale moon shining bright
but obscured by the fog
I saw her in the harbor
standing where my boat lay moored
but she knew that
her azure eyes beckoned me to come
smoke from a cigarette in her hand
trailing upward and blending with the mist
and a gold braid around her wrist
I remembered my gift

I stood there transfixed
if for only a moment
then I walked to her slowly
and tipped my fedora
and the little joke we shared in love
I asked,”Where have been all my life?
Waiting for you, she said
I laughed at her resentfully and sighed
You left me here from this place
without a note, without a trace
I scoured old haunts, you weren’t there
you left as if you didn’t care

Remember our walks along the shore
your favorite drink, our special place
in a cafe by the window
where the sun would shine on your hair
and leaving a golden glint
as it did on my boat when it was in full sail

Then one day you went away
our love became a mystery
that was never solved
now you’re here and I ask you, why?

There was a war she said
I lost this guy and you came along
to fill the void and share my grief
I loved you, Jake ,your silly hat
the way you tipped it, the boat ,the cat
who begged for fish after every catch
she paused and lit another smoke

Then one day, he showed up, his name was Clive
the guy I mentioned had survived
and left his tags with a guy who died
and he became an MIA
he was hiding out in Mandalay
involved in something, he wouldn’t say
but he wanted me there, he promised me fame
I was a singer you know
and all the dough that I could want or I could take
I just had to know how to play the game
but I thought of you, Jake
and what we had and I told him ,No

He got mean, Jake
and threatened to expose me 
for what I really was
and I couldn’t bear for you to hear 
my sordid past, my constant fear
We’re both alike you and me, he said
we’ll take what the world has to give
or grab it by the throat
or I’ll expose you if you don’t

As time went by it didn’t take long
to see he was singing a different song
his lies, his schemes, his other dolls
I lost my respect and I didn’t care
I had to get out, I needed a plan
to rid myself of this rotten man

There was this guy, Buck
who ran the bar, he pitied my plight
that I was in, he hated Clive as much as I 
I told him I watched Clive at the end of each night
the cash he hid in a special place
no doubt to leave in a hurry when things got hot
he would check to see how much was stashed
if it was worth the dare, we would split down the middle 
and make our departure as soon as we could
I knew a Burmese captain of a scow
who asked no questions for a fee
he’d  have some cabins for you and me

Just before closing, I feigned getting ill
and called for Clive to aid me somehow
to stay awhile and give me a pill
and while he was there, Buck went to that spot
took the cash and lit out that night to wait for me
at a pre destined place


My bag was packed in another room
I told Clive I would rest and join him soon
but as soon as he left I slipped out
to the back grabbed a bag and headed
for freedom away from that man
thinking of you and to make things right

She paused for a moment and put out her smoke
and I thought I saw a drop of blood 
form on the corner of her mouth
she quickly wiped her hand across her face
and continued her story at a slower pace

I arrived at the pier where the scow lay docked
took one look behind me and looked at the clock
on the building we were to meet
I checked my watch and matched the time
I saw a jeep and he saw me
two grips in his hand and a smile on his face
he said, I got the dough , I’ll leave the jeep
it’s the least I can do for that miserable creep
I said ,there’s no time to waste, just show me the dough
we’ll split it up now and get ready to go
he said, Oh, I’m ready but the plans have changed
I’ll leave you enough to change your luck
this one’s for you and this one’s for Buck

I suspected as much and I scoured as he grinned
but his mouth formed an O as he looked down below
a knife in his stomach pulsed blood from his guts
too late I saw his gun come up as he fell
I felt a pain in my side and clutched at my coat
I picked up my bags and summoned the strength
to get onto the boat

I said to the captain, there’s double the price
if we get away soon just pick up some steam 
and head for Rangoon
he patched me up as good as he could
with the aid of rum and smoldering wood
to cauterize the wound for awhile

I knew it was wrong to take his life
but I was prepared to kill him 
to end all this strife
as a precautionI took the knife that we cut bait with
a long time ago the knife stirred up memories
that you and I had
that pressed my decision to leave that cad
the wound didn’t heal, the lead stayed inside
I was resigned to my fate to see you once more
before it’s too late…and here you are

She collapsed in my arms and I held her tight
with tears in my eyes , her audible sighs
gasping for breath and leaning toward death

And before she expired her hand on my face, she said
Where have you been all my life?
waiting for you, I cried, waiting for you

A tribute to the black and white movies prevalent in the late 30’s and early 40’s
Sponsored by Silent One  September 29, 2017




Copyright © Ralph Sergi | Year Posted 2017


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Task of Sweet Butter (Than-Bauk)

Turn, churn, don’t spurn…
You must learn, child--
To churn butter... 



Adell Foster © Adell1 2007


THAN-BAUK 
Three line “Climbing Rhyme” poem of Burmese origin.
Each line has four syllables. The rhyme is on the fourth syllable of the first line, the 
third syllable of the second line and the second syllable of the last line. Usually, 
witty.


Copyright © Adell Foster | Year Posted 2007


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Rules to Live By

Do not be shy.
Never cry or
Comply to fear.





Sponsored by: Constance ~ A Rambling Poet ~ 
for contest-- Forms of Poetry 101 --Cecil Hickman

A Than-Bauk, conventionally a witty saying or epigram, is a three line "climbing rhyme" 
poem of Burmese origin. Each line has four syllables. The rhyme is on the fourth syllable of 
the first line, the third syllable of the second line, and the second syllable of the third line. 


Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2010


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Slate Wiped Clean

'Twas smack dab in the middle of the 
magnumus tirade night
In the butcher block quiet wee hours 
I aggregate owl so 
Ascertained slivers of sorrow'd be right 
remained though in aftermath of hoof's
slop rain
abated from it's complete air's overthrow 
It's multi purpose course only now 
an off kiltered trail of odd drips 
Communing in puddles with man made 
rude lights reflecting their sheen 
Glistening grass n' neglected boats looked 
clean in their respectable slips 
Turning my accessing gaze in any direction 
all I perceived was-the slate wiped clean 
Backtrack a couple of decades now 
dribbled past
When my addiction like a Burmese python 
had her fangs deep n' constricted her coil
'round me 
Attempting to thrash her off on a cold floor 
of a jail cell wondering how long it'd last?
Then whether journaling in treatment 
in hieroglyphics or in my many geographics 
everywhere I went-there i was n' she always 
found me
I recall how they said for 10 minutes per day 
to embrace your sadness 
but on those psychotherapeutic tools 
I wasn't too keen 
Though finally i encased the surrender to win 
n' all encompassing The Angel of the Lord
encamps n' totally does surround me 
N' what could be more than that?
Though on my own understanding 
I don't lean 
now my iniquities have all been cast from me 
even as far as the east is to the west 
to the deepest depths of the sea-
Yes-the slate wiped clean.
Nov'-21-2016 Duncan R. M. Ferguson 

Today's Tidbit:
They're gonna bring the axe 
They're gonna blast the mortar 
Whether they get yer head er legs
Either way you'll sure be shorter. DRMF



Copyright © Duncan R. M. Ferguson | Year Posted 2016


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dedicated to all those women that said 'no'

if i really wanted to... 

if i leave u at a roadside , in the middle of nowhere...
and drop all of your stuff at random points...
if i flood your house with dirty toilet water...
eat all of your food and sell all of your joints...

if i beat the hell out of your car and run it into a ditch...
maybe give that nasty movie you made to your mom...
if i start dating your sister and a couple of your friends...
walk into your office and drop a stink bomb...

if i feed your stupid cat to my burmese python...
ride your prize horse into some quicksand...
if i drop a deuce or two in your swimming pool...
pour some gasoline and destroy all of your land...

if i cut up your furniture with my chainsaw...
and toss my cookies inside your computer towers...
if i use your phone to call party lines , egypt and china...
cut telephone lines and run my truck through your flowers...

                                    ...i could f_ck you .




Copyright © brian carver | Year Posted 2007


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reverse orbitz

Mach my words, that time travel aye
foresee (rather than being 
     at a stand still, nee frozen 
     analogous to cry

oh ja hen nicks, or more particularly 
     going backwards) 
     this chap doth espy
great breakthroughs, 

     asper similar advances this guy
   i.e. myself witnesses quantum leaps I
learn (reading The University Of Penn Gazette) 
     the Burmese doctoral 
     engineering student Kai 
     Sir Von Wilhelm Harris 

     made profound advances within 
     advanced combined research 
     laboratory of rocket surgery 
     and brain science set my
mouth ajar 
     (with rivulets of drool spilling forth) 

constructing a simple 
     to assemble gizmo (avail able 
common household materials 
     rendered unto YouTube), and/or Cable 

Comcast, Fios, Infosys, et cetera 
     which accidental discovery 
     automatically codified feign 
     top secret "FAKE" news to enable 
  
boot (simply for formality sake) 
     code named Clark Gable
yet in reality (a faux veil of secrecy) 
     to con Vince sing lee 

     foster an inimitable
mystique, button truth 
     for general public to unzip noble 
     no red bull) knowable

handy escape to past or future 
     and essentially unlocked laudable
simple "household solution" 
     to become the latest craze
 
     (synonymous with an opiate - manageable
minus addiction, conviction, 
     and excruciation viz zit operable 
via needle marks of the masses 

     within a fortnight necessary 
     supplies sans quantifiable 
while Das Donald Trump 
     could enact legislation satisfiable

knowing majority being 
     totally tubularly oblivious unalterable
measures permanently infringing on inalienable 
     rights such as life, liberty 
     and the pursuit of winnable pacification.


Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018


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Fidgety Cats And Feline Pets

                     Fidgety Cats And Feline Pets

                                  (A Parody)


     Fidgety cats and feline pets go out for a midnight run,
     Siamese are to rare to ever dare to
     And in Bali and Mali cats retire from dawn till one.
     Persian Blues prefer to choose to snooze in the noon day sun
     And there’s a rumour the Puma will sleep when the day is done.

     Fidgety cats and feline pets go out for a midnight run.
     The Ocelot, cares not a jot for the heat of the noon-day sun
     And the Bengal rarely sleeps at all.
     At mid-day in Mandalay the Tiger will hunt for fun,
     But fidgety cats and feline pets go out for a midnight run.

     The Lion’s roar is no more when the clock strikes one
     And you will never meet a Cheetah after the setting sun.
     The Maine Coone will bathe at noon and the
     Burmese is quite at ease in the rays of the Asian sun,
     But fidgety cats and feline pets go out for a midnight run.


      Adapted from ‘Mad Dogs and Englishmen’ by Sir Noel Coward.

      Barry Stebbings
       07/03/18



Copyright © Barry Stebbings | Year Posted 2018