Mongolian Poems | Examples

A Long Goodbye

You fixed Mongolian stew
on a two ring Russian-made burner.

It was understood,
that we would not be drinking
salted milk tea
in Ulan Bator anytime soon.

I would be moving on,
you would be moving into
this one room, bed-less apartment.

Kazakh embroidery,
added an exotic ambience.
to the threadbare living-space.

Later we laid down on goatskins,
imagined that this cold room
was a warm yurt.

Our bodies were a perfect fit,
for an imperfect love.

We kept ourselves warm
beneath thick woolen Deel's,
which we both knew
were the national costume,
of the desperately lost.

Ordu-Baliq, the City of the Court

Birthed from the central river of holy kings 
The court city guarded by stone rings 
A marriage of light and might 
Its stupa shone bright 
With divine 
Light 
As life's sign 
A heart of daylight
Its head, the gold tent, in sight 
Guarded by the dragon with its wings 
Birthed from the central river of holy kings

Pre-Auction

In my neighborhood, there is
A well-known auction space
Where items are displayed before
The auction will take place.

It’s open to the public, so
Today we went to see
Some very famous songs composed
By Freddie Mercury.

So cool to see, in his own hand,
With doodles on the page,
The lyrics which I’ve heard
A thousand times, which still engage.

Why he crossed out “Mongolian”
Is anybody’s guess.
Was “Bohemian” with “Rhapsody”
More likely to impress?

The auction house had other
Special things to gaze upon
Before the day the auctioneer
Says, “Going, going, gone!”

Seen the Mongolian Death Worm

have you heard of or seen the Mongolian death worm?
has he spat venom your way or tried to electrocute you?
you need to travel to the Gobi desert, where he is.
in the 1950’s there were many hysterical sightings.
known as olgoi-khorkhoi in Mongolia.

Roy Chapman Andrew made the death worm famous.
Writing a book about how he travels underground.
Creating waves of sand on the surface.
Looks like an intestine, has teeth, but no face or mouth.

Kind of a hideous looking thing. Sprays venom.
Is two foot long, without a head.
Many expeditions have tried thumping to get him to appear.
Even Roy Chapman Andrew disbelieves he exists
Except in Mongolian folklore.

The Fish Rots From the Head

Fish and chips and a pint of dark brew.
Malt vinegar and lashings of salt.
A fish dinner served up
by a truck in a newspaper cone.

That was then, that was before
taste buds got hard boiled,
before the bowtie culture wars.

Pickled onions are now too small
they should have stayed big and brown
something saucy and sour to munch on
while walking around London town.

Peas pudding, jellied eels,
pork pie to tempt our eyes.
Mostly all gone
or not the same.
Shame,
for now we are cosmopolitan
even here in the Midwest
we are upscale in the fine dining fare.

French, Italian, Bolivian, Mongolian,
Mexican and Estonian, it's all good
or can be, but

fish and chips wrapped in newspaper,
nothing better!

Mongolian Beef

His online persona was dung
All those one-star reviews really stung
He got him an agent
improved his engagement
changed his name to Attila the Hung

----------

H/T to Hun Bunny by Rico Leffanta

Behind the Behind

Behind the behind 

Behind the holiday inn near the bus station used by us the masses 
and immigrants and those who wander in no man’s land.
There are streets of houses kept in a gloomy mood of semi-poverty and cheap wine.
I walked these streets, shuttered windows, here and there a small shop
run by a Pakistani, how they can make a living out of it is a wonder.
There are cafes too I nearly walked into but had to stake a step back by a smell
the was Mongolian by its muscular scent.
We had been to a gigantic old hospital where dying is against the law, 
yet doctors and nurses to keep it open, a valiant fight that was doomed to failure.
She had a hip problem waiting for transport took three hours the boredom
stretched endlessly before us in a part of Lisbon few sane tourists will see.
Back at the bus station, I found a corner of a second-hand shop I bought a book
of prose poetry and got one for free.
I marvelled at the seller, an Indian from Bangalore, selling poetry in Iberia.

Xanadu

exotic
Mongolian
mansion
soft Xanadu
a pleasure palace
happily
calming
delightful
peaceful
exquisite
delicate
masterfully built
my imaginative
pure
joyful Xanadu

Written 5/23/2020
Contest: Verses Only
Theme: Xanadu
Sponsor:  Edward Ibeh
Syllables checked with www.Howmanysyllables.com

Exiles

You fixed Mongolian stew
on a two ring Russian-made burner.
We understood 
that we’d not be drinking salted milk tea 
in Ulan Bator anytime soon.
Nevertheless, 
we bought Kazakh embroidery
laid on goatskins, treated the room
as if it were a symbol laden yurt. 
Your body was my perfect fit,
a silken deel of sensuality,
which we both knew
was the national costume
of the desolate and lost.

Day Dreaming

The time spent thinking up these rhymes,
could be put to better use.
I could learn a language, or DIY the house.
Maybe learn to fly a plane, or sail across the sea,
or walk across the Gobi, and drink Mongolian tea.

I could learn to play piano,
it can't be all that hard,
after all, I used to play tin whistle,
when I was just a lad.

There must be lots of activities,
I'm not too old to learn,
like playing tennis, keeping fit,
I've got some fat to burn.

But, Hey, you're no Spring chicken,
my dear wife likes to say,
Sit in your chair, put the blanket round,
and balance this tea tray.

I suppose I'll just keep dreaming,
of things that I could do,
or maybe write ideas down,
and make a rhyme or two.

International Students In the Land of Opportunity

one's from japan  
  one's from ukraine
one is from turkey
  two are from spain

one speaks portuguese 
  another korean
two speak mongolian
  though none speak armenian  

one likes thick coffee
  another aromatic tea
one tokes up on a hookah
  one fancies me    

one's here on a visa 
  a second's an asylee
three are new immigrants
  for them nothing's free

one was a surgeon
  one a head nurse
a third was a physicist
  here they'll do worse

one's here alone
  two got divorced
three are now roomates
  to split the rent, perforce

one gets splitting headaches
  another the chills
a third is congested
  so many are ill

one is quite homesick
  one could care less
another's family disowned her
  her life's a big mess

all are my students
  so eager to learn
to improve their 'poor English'
  ~ there's money to earn
  


Note:  The students all think, to a man/woman, that their English is "poor." It's not. International students are 'driven,' and in more than a few cases their English borders on excellent...At worst, it's functional...

Search All Scandinavian Rocky Fiords

Search all Scandinavian  rocky fiords,
Explore the  Niagara Falls,
On back the Mongolian hardy  horse
Gallop to  the Great Chinese wall
                  
Suffer of thirst and choking of dust,
Wear  clothing to the holes,
Dip in Siberian forest at last
Explore both  terrestrial poles   

Not giving up any hopes and faith,
Each sound  catching  in  silence,
Browse  sorely every  place
Of Southern Ocean islands

The wilderness Africa's valleys.
Igloos were the Eskimos dwells.
 *                       
 In vain! All koalas -Australians.
You not find  them anywhere else !

Mongolian Nazis

The state of Mongolia is now Russia free
With the collapse of the Soviet Union you see
And a sense of nationalism is now the deal
And it has led to a right wing politics feel

They have Nazis now parading with a Swastika made
With black uniforms and SS badges that will not fade
Adolf Hitler is worshipped as a great man
Thought about in their new nationalistic plan

It is seen as an anti-foreigner sentiment 
With the swastika an Asian sign without lament
But is it a country struggling with its own identity
When all they want is a country of their own to be free.
© Paul Warren Poetry

Until My Story Is Told

What makes us beautiful is not color,
But just a handsome heart and an effulgent cerebrum,
So as much as we dwell in this world,
We are one blood each with only a soul,
So folks let’s stroll away from our domains,
To the palatial planet we dwell in,
Which has different races; Caucasian, Mongolian, Negroid among others,
With different ambient, languages and ethos!
But that doesn’t halt us from drinking from the same river,
Because we are all Jehovah’s semblance!
And we are all children of the earth,
Who didn’t choose our own races,
Neither did our parents nor great grandparents!
So let’s just fuse as kin and kith,
No matter where we are, or come from,
We are all coherent!
We are one blood.
We are all human beings,
Who have souls and shadows!
And we all pass on,
When it’s our time to rest in peace!
Africa, America, Antarctica, Asia, Australia and Europe
We are one,
And we wear the same uniform.
Colors are just layers

Traveling Ancient Roads

Foraging through time's annals
Peering through the faded panels
Catching a glint through corroded channels
Seeking the sallowing bridges to re-enamel
Shuffling along desert lanes beaten down by Assyrian 
chariot trains
Walking subsumed Royal Persian road, linking cultural 
chains
Striding through exhumed Alexandrian cities' 
ethnocentric strains
Strolling pebbled Roman boulevards accentuated by 
aqueduct drains
Riding the Mongolian steppes listening to the murderous 
refrains
Traipsing through gold-crowned Ottoman mosques 
sprouting Christian veins
Lumbering penitently along Via Dolorosa grasping 
sacrificial blood stains

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