Thet Poems | Examples

No Matter

No matter how you live,
No matter how good you are,
You can just be sure the next mistake is not to far.

I stumble and I fall,
I stagger and I crawl,
And although my eyes were open,
Thet might just as well be closed.

As I just crashed right through,
I never noticed I made you blue.

But now I know I will surely try,
To show my love for you as this short life goes swirling by.

Ruptured Feelings-

Who so love us for ourselves
                      In spite of our iniquities they care for
But those that friends that fools
The ones who calls you are and doing
Is there any room and whatever legend 
And what of those visions that you hear
Where are the distorted voices
 thet screams in silence and color tones
 You Are Not alone
Solace and Grace at any pace
Seemingly runs amok
Perfect timing to stop climbing the trees 
Where branches with baron leaves
I come to salute before my gratitude
My enslaved mind mirage 
inclined imprisoned doing time
Stop being sad and there's no time to cry
Stand up except the love of your peers
Listen to the please of the Angels hear them cheer
Confession thoughts even though 
God hears them all before you speak them out
For when humanity is silent
Seemingly no one cares no calls
Reach up reach out listen for The voice to calling of God
For your love each and every one of us very very much

13/11/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021

Kettles Yard

In Kettles Yard thet kept their art
Helen and Jim were the main part
midst stray objects,sculpture and glass
with pictures ,paintings unsurpassed

Friend of artists,collectors too
their grateful gifts ,displayed ,on view
manifested everyday
this art philosophy holds sway;

Brancusi,Gaudier-Brezska
Nicholsons,Wallis & David Jones
talent lights up their charming home
with revealing personal tastes.

A continuing way of life..
artistic grace..as light in space

A  tribute to Jim Ede and Kettles Yard,Cambridge,England


 | Year Posted 2010

My Choice Art Tribute

LIGHT IN SPACE-A SONNET
In Kettles Yard thet kept their art
Helen and Jim were the main part
midst stray objects,sculpture and glass
with pictures ,paintings unsurpassed;
Friend of artists,collectors too
their grateful gifts ,displayed ,on view
mnifested everyday
this art philosophy holds sway;
Brancusi,Gaudier-Brezska
Nicholsons,Wallis and David Jones
talent lights up their charming home
with revealing personal tastes.

A continuing way of life..
artistic grace..as light in space

Software Beef

Religious fighting is wet. 
Not like that.
 Hmm.

They are as calm as a cow. 
Great humanists are hunting. 
Hey.

Do you hear it?
You hear my line construction?
The girl who hunts. Just

There's a Buddha on the roast beef. 
Allah only eats vegetables.
Rama is playing the harp. 
Christ is riding on a white horse. 
Where is my worship? 
Secrecy

quiet
Peace
Be calm
Hmm

Aung Thet Oo
2020

The Story I Told My Son In Bedtime 3 : Apple

There is an island having a lot of apples
A boy live there
Oneday, all of these apples lost
The boy is finding them
He looked around all over the island
He didn't see them
So,He went to the sea
And when he reached somewhere of the sea,
He found the apples jumping above the sea
Some are bright at night
He never come back his island
He live forever in the sea.

 Written In Burmese Language Aung Thet Oo
Translated by JanDarYee

8 Short Poems

- Song -

At the soundless time,
Song is for the songwriter

- Love -

Flowers are always staring
Love is someone who can love

- Painting -

At the colourless time,
Painting is for the painter

- Politics -

Politics is for the politician
Toilet is for faeces

- Poetry -

Dead body is alive for sleep-time
Poets is alive for poetry

- Future -

Sleep-time is not dream
Poetry is not like poet's mind.

- Untimely hour -

No sleep-time , no sleep-man
No poem , no poet

- Art -

Sleep-time is for the sleep-man
Poetry is for the poet


Written in Myanmarese Language By Aung Thet Oo
Translated by JanDarYee

The Story I Told My Son In Bedtime : Orange

Beneath orange peels of the sky
Orange Juices are falling like rain

People are drinking without restraint
Some kept that juices with cups

Naked bodies are dancing
As they felt happy

Then, rain of orange juices stopped
People ,too, fell asleep.


Written in Myanmarese Language By Aung Thet Oo
Translated by JanDarYee

Gramps Ashes Where

'look what i found ma'...
"now thet there was yer gran pa's
fav'rit grave marker...

...don't go lose'n it"
'yuh mean gran pa made tombstones'
"no son...thet was his...

...so where'd'ya find it"
'top of the septic tank ma'
"and how'd it git there"

'tommy did it ma'
"did whut...just who is tommy...
...gawd no...where's dad's jar"


stan sand

Dawn In Sweet Morn

T-winkling
H-eaven
E-ndorses
T-he

D-awn
I-n
S-weet
M-orn
A-s
Y-ou
A-wake

Topic: Birthday of Thet A. Dismaya (November 24)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic

Clair De Lune

Would an artist hand over 
his paint brush in exchange 
for the happiness of this world

Watching the moon 
finish its last work but 
not putting a signature 

Fails to capture that beauty 
thet golden glow that comes 
through the mind of a painter 

While the time passes realizes 
that it was not created to 
describe the sound of a quiet night

Redhad Groove

was day of fun
plenty of sun
some was able got to the table
there serv chesse and ham
was a rehad
 jam
all  daylong thet imusic was strong
mave you move move was
REHAD GROOVE

Walk In the Shadows

When the darkness awakens you do u look back 
a small difference between truth and madness
is easier to whatch at the fear in front 
of the mirror and not too see yourself 

Outside the box of reality waits 
just a sweet lie that fate rarely finds out 
we will lie again away from us 
to see the same hands but not the face

Night will come to make a step 
in the shine of the yellow moon 
behind me two fake eyes whispering the truth 
a drop will overflow the glass of empty memories 

This is the land of desire thet we can not reach 
while approaching the fate of blind 
as a crow that waits for a traveller to
show her the way to widen her wings

She Is Polly

When Polly comes the smart ones take a good tee with lemon the others 
a pen and a Jonny smile seyng to she..,, be my friend I pay you well"

She is Polly she has the iron arm
she can bite she can eat 
don't give her sushi
she is more a meaty lover



Two or three Mensa Mans in Black share some words with the mafia
on a wooden chair
you know that them Americans says about
the Italians  thet them have some kind of ideal instead of making money



She is sweet Polly in war comes with a pink dress and she says
the poor soldiers are too tired to combat let them sleep two days
they will die sooner or later anyway
but dont worry they will be happy in his own country without a leg
while the people will show a finger into them 
the state give to them paper for beer and some bread with tongue
While you give your child for this country 
the country gives to you Brandy

She is Polly she knows how to live she don't go in some
4 stars hotels she is more alike to go in some big house on
the Maldive but keep very awake for those guys with that strange color on the skin
maybe they forgot to wash themselves



Then Polly wake up ¸¸

The Light of the Other's Eyes

What is that light 
that you see 
in the other eyes 

As a marble mask 
that remains only 
a mask 

That I wear 
in the hope that 
I will never put it 

Which is that life 
thet we bear in 
the pain of it 

Not even the tears 
will take the pain away 

Until we enter in our skin 
We will never enter 
in somebody else 

Just ask yourself 
did you put this mask 
or someone put it instead of you

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