Long Bor Poems

Postcard 1
by Miklós Radnóti
written August 30, 1944
translated by Michael R. Burch
 
Out of Bulgaria, the great wild roar of the artillery thunders,
resounds on the mountain ridges, rebounds, then ebbs into silence
while here men, beasts, wagons...

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THE INCUMBENT
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS

I am sick and tired of hearing the same old line
My elected representative says every things fine
He just does not represent the people I know
He’s been there forever its time for him...

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Letter to My Wife
by Miklos Radnoti
translated by Michael R. Burch

A poem written during the Holocaust in Lager Heidenau, in the mountains above Zagubica, August-September, 1944

Deep down in the darkness hell awaits--silent, mute.
Silence screams in my...

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Oft'times I see my friends all 'round
Lke leaves of Autumn, floating down
And softly drifting, side-to-side
A passive dance, on zephryn tide

Then when the ground is covered o'er
A million leaves! A billion! More!
Each leaf contributes its full...

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I want to live in a world where  newspapers and all media are filled with true people, true stories of kindness and happiness rather than hypocrisy.
Where the earth soil is not a stage where...

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in the year 2070 there lived a man from another fantasy
his name was Judge Dread & what was going on inside his head
he lived in the village of Shaun in Sweden with his family
he always...

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I have a couple of internet Friends in Australia
We like to joke around some, so I wrote them this,
To the tune of "Talk To The Animals"  (Dr. Dolittle)


If I could talk to the Aussies
just...

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De bor' ah is her Congo name,
To mispronounce it such a shame,
For few would read and say it right,
I asked: a sweet smile brought to light!
My travels though suggested in,
But butterflies? To trap's a sin!...

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Wallet ?
Check 

Phone ?
Check

Key's ?
Check

Knife ?
Check

Death Wish ????????
CHECK

See you Later ?

Maybe you will ?
Maybe you won't ?

Whole life ahead 
Barely a teenager 
Yet leaving home dressed to Kill 

Far to young to understand
Just exactly how...

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curlicues perhaps
the Catholic nun
wouldn’t let me engage
in penmanship shape
“shape up, sit straight!!”
yet the ancients
would whirligig
with their featherings
fill up the page
with their zorro-like signature
tap-tap-tap
the teacher’s brought me back
to life, to engage
in this ((yawn)) bor…ing
admonish the swording
don’t...

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The pain first took hold of my wrists
In the heart within my heart
My sweet children
Took their first steps.
Rain drips on the windows
There is that which comes
From far away
With hands in handcuffs
I do not know the...

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alth(ough) you
fore(go) the
quid (pro) (quo) &
free th(row) a bouteille de
bor(deaux),
it is most certainly jonathan (doe)
with whom you be(stow) the
(crow) that swoops o’er the
(plateau) in the same
area (code) as your gothique
cha(teau) & still you wouldn’t
(know) how...

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- a terrible homage to e.e. cummings

she being gently 
-used; and you
know a bit loose i was
careless with her and (having
never changed her oil tested 
her gas felt of her car bor aytor 
and knew...

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