“Lang May Your Lum Reek"
Leave
A light on
Like
A fire aglow
Keep
One burning
As
A warm hello
Leave
A light on
Illuminate
The way
Let
Neighbors know
They’re
Welcome to stay
Leave
A light on
Not
Just for books
It’s says
You’re welcome
Come
Into my nook
Leave a light on
Its
Simple to do
If
Down turns them
Off
It’s
All up for you
By Bill MacEachern
October 10, 2022
L ove
I n deed
V igour
E xceeds
L ove
A lways
U pstarts
G lum
H earts
L ove
O ur
V irtues
E mparts
= agape way
| Year Posted 2010
Where did you come from
what exactly are you
Evil lurks in your lum
your works are not queue
you prey on the weak
so you can feel strong
these words I do speak
until transformation comes along
you feed into famine
and sickness you allow
your arm is as a talon
you rip the flesh you vow
some may not understand this
I hope that soon will dissipate
this longing for a world of bliss
I cry out to annotate
*This poem came to mind after reading Revelations
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lum Clump!Clump!Clump!Clump!Clum
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Date created: 06/15/2020
We think them plentiful, like jumping shrimp and tiny crabs:
These mak hung, these chilies, the base for padaek.
The mouth waters with even a mention.
Every heart of Laos knows it well.
Cross oceans and mountains, battlefield and basement,
Oz or Kyrgyzstan, Modesto or Nashville, Phoenix or Pakse.
Meet anyone who can say sabaidee or a word of passa lao.
Even if they don’t remember their history or family,
How to nop or how to fon, or the secrets to singing a good mor lum
We still become one again with as little as a dish.
Our bellies fill like an ancient queen, a saint of Laos,
Our heroines and heroes, our elders and children,
The clever beauties and the dreaming scholars.
Pounding away until it’s so hot you sweat,
A mix of sweet and salt, starch and bite
What poet, what priest,
What politician, what legend can truly compete or compare?
We sing of the fine dok champa, but our people also sleep
With memories of mak hung, a smile, a tongue afire.
L ove
I n deed
V igour
E xceeds
L ove
A lways
U pstarts
G lum
H earts
L ove
O ur
V irtues
E mparts
This is based on a story about David 'Deacon' Brown The Open Golf Champion of 1886 at
Musselburgh, Scotland.
Davy wis a genius
at climbin' up an' doon.
A chimney sweep o' sure repute
frae Musselburgh Toon.
He won The British Open
in 1886;
Ah'm share awbody whae wis there
thocht it wis a fix!
The Championship Officials
had a player oot o' sync.,
So they thocht o' 'Deacon' Broon,
A player whae'd played the Links.
They fund him up a chimney,
Cleanin' oot the Lum.
They washed him an' they claithed him
An' filled his achin' tum.
The course wis fu' o' champions
linin' up that day.
'Deacon' mumbled tae hissel',
"Weel ah'm jist here tae play!"
He played his gowf wi' panache
an' beat them at their game:
"Ah'm the world's best chimney sweep
an' that is NOO, ma claim tae fame!"
Copyright Robert Cartwright-Davidson February 2009