"quang" poems - Hello Poetry

In nineteen hundred forty-nine China was won by Mao Tse-tung Chiang Kai-shek's army ran away They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday Supported by the CIA Pushing junk down Thailand way First they stole from the Meo Tribes Up in the hills they started taking bribes Then they sent their soldiers up to Shan Collecting ***** to send to The Man Pushing junk in Bangkok yesterday Supported by the CIA Brought their jam on mule trains down To Chiang Rai that's a railroad town Sold it next to the police chief brain He took it to town on the choochoo train Trafficking dope to Bangkok all day Supported by the CIA The policeman's name was Mr. Phao He peddled dope grand scale and how Chief of border customs paid By Central Intelligence's U.S. A.I.D. The whole operation, Newspapers say Supported by the CIA He got so sloppy & peddled so loose He busted himself & cooked his own goose Took the reward for an ***** load Seizing his own haul which same he resold Big time pusher for a decade turned grey Working for the CIA Touby Lyfong he worked for the French A big fat man liked to dine & ***** Prince of the Meos he grew black mud Till ***** flowed through the land like a flood Communists came and chased the French away So Touby took a job with the CIA The whole operation fell in to chaos Till U.S. Intelligence came into Laos I'll tell you no lie I'm a true American Our big pusher there was Phoumi Nosovan All them Princes in a power play But Phoumi was the man for the CIA And his best friend General Vang Pao Ran the Meo army like a sacred cow Helicopter smugglers filled Long Cheng's bars In Xieng Quang province on the Plain of Jars It started in secret they were fighting yesterday Clandestine secret army of the CIA All through the Sixties the Dope flew free Thru Tan Son Nhut Saigon to Marshal Ky Air America followed through Transporting confiture for President Thieu All these Dealers were decades and yesterday The Indochinese mob of the U.S. CIA Operation Haylift Offisir Wm. Colby Saw Marshal Ky fly ***** Mr. Mustard told me Indochina desk he was Chief of ***** Tricks "Hitchhiking" with dope pushers was how he got his fix Subsidizing traffickers to drive the Reds away Till Colby was the head of the CIA January 1972

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Allen Ginsberg

CIA Dope Calypso

In nineteen hundred forty-nine China was won by Mao Tse-tung Chiang Kai-shek's army ran away They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday Supported by the CIA Pushing junk down Thailand way First they stole from the Meo Tribes Up in the hills they started taking bribes Then they sent their soldiers up to Shan Collecting ***** to send to The Man Pushing junk in Bangkok yesterday Supported by the CIA Brought their jam on mule trains down To Chiang Rai that's a railroad town Sold it next to the police chief brain He took it to town on the choochoo train Trafficking dope to Bangkok all day Supported by the CIA The policeman's name was Mr. Phao He peddled dope grand scale and how Chief of border customs paid By Central Intelligence's U.S. A.I.D. The whole operation, Newspapers say Supported by the CIA He got so sloppy & peddled so loose He busted himself & cooked his own goose Took the reward for an ***** load Seizing his own haul which same he resold Big time pusher for a decade turned grey Working for the CIA Touby Lyfong he worked for the French A big fat man liked to dine & ***** Prince of the Meos he grew black mud Till ***** flowed through the land like a flood Communists came and chased the French away So Touby took a job with the CIA The whole operation fell in to chaos Till U.S. Intelligence came into Laos I'll tell you no lie I'm a true American Our big pusher there was Phoumi Nosovan All them Princes in a power play But Phoumi was the man for the CIA And his best friend General Vang Pao Ran the Meo army like a sacred cow Helicopter smugglers filled Long Cheng's bars In Xieng Quang province on the Plain of Jars It started in secret they were fighting yesterday Clandestine secret army of the CIA All through the Sixties the Dope flew free Thru Tan Son Nhut Saigon to Marshal Ky Air America followed through Transporting confiture for President Thieu All these Dealers were decades and yesterday The Indochinese mob of the U.S. CIA Operation Haylift Offisir Wm. Colby Saw Marshal Ky fly ***** Mr. Mustard told me Indochina desk he was Chief of ***** Tricks "Hitchhiking" with dope pushers was how he got his fix Subsidizing traffickers to drive the Reds away Till Colby was the head of the CIA January 1972

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She lost her husband in Quang Ngai Provence fifty years ago. Now, a lifetime, another husband and two children later, in retirement she pushes a coffee cart and makes small talk at a local VA hospital— her way of giving back.

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Mar 18, 2017

Mar 18, 2017 at 4:59 PM UTC

sean-pomposello

Both Ends Burning

She lost her husband in Quang Ngai Provence fifty years ago. Now, a lifetime, another husband and two children later, in retirement she pushes a coffee cart and makes small talk at a local VA hospital— her way of giving back.

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for Thich Quang Duc, The monk who lit himself on fire in 1963. The flames were a mantra, Kissing skin like the enlightenment That blooms when one has finally Swallowed the last spit of his fears. Young monk with kerosene in hand, Pyre priest of thunder and spark. You never said a word as you ascended, But I wonder what you whispered Before your blood boiled. I wonder What you dreamt of the night before, If you even slept, or did you stare At the stars and say sisters I will sing you soon, A symphony of supernova and smoke That stopped all the street lights As the world basked in your blaze As if you were the origin of heat. You wore a halo of combustion For all the angels that couldn't Be heard singing a dirt song, Harmonizing with the silence. But the furnace of your body Was a screaming nirvana, And if those flames were a mantra, Then they were speaking holy holy holy.

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Dec 24, 2013

Dec 24, 2013 at 8:19 PM UTC

eliot-greene

Pyre Priest

for Thich Quang Duc, The monk who lit himself on fire in 1963. The flames were a mantra, Kissing skin like the enlightenment That blooms when one has finally Swallowed the last spit of his fears. Young monk with kerosene in hand, Pyre priest of thunder and spark. You never said a word as you ascended, But I wonder what you whispered Before your blood boiled. I wonder What you dreamt of the night before, If you even slept, or did you stare At the stars and say sisters I will sing you soon, A symphony of supernova and smoke That stopped all the street lights As the world basked in your blaze As if you were the origin of heat. You wore a halo of combustion For all the angels that couldn't Be heard singing a dirt song, Harmonizing with the silence. But the furnace of your body Was a screaming nirvana, And if those flames were a mantra, Then they were speaking holy holy holy.

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as the flames grow higher you must know its the persecution that I'm crossed not you I want peace my life is a dream row row row your boat get to the other side of life my Buddha so many innocent died so many haters listen to me persecution photographs Malcolm keep clicking it gives my life meaning at the peak of living light yourself shoot into the sky shooting into the flame I make my point scores settled magazine covers me in white you with your mouth wide open shooting into the flame I peak

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Feb 15, 2014

Feb 15, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC

kandrew

Thich Quang Duc

as the flames grow higher you must know its the persecution that I'm crossed not you I want peace my life is a dream row row row your boat get to the other side of life my Buddha so many innocent died so many haters listen to me persecution photographs Malcolm keep clicking it gives my life meaning at the peak of living light yourself shoot into the sky shooting into the flame I make my point scores settled magazine covers me in white you with your mouth wide open shooting into the flame I peak

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. Fifty years ago to the month that they laid you in the ground . Only now have I found the words to make a sound . You came home closed coffin bound Not suitable to be viewed . Only now do I frown Thinking about the name in stone that's hewed . That day you died I was left to cry I didn't know what to do . Two teenage lives both said goodbye never to be again . One under 21 gun salute The other under pain . They are still burying you in my mind my time has been unkind . I've lived through a thousand deaths looking for reasons to find . Resigned I am bound by the truth of October '69 Dedicated to : Marine PFC William Le Grand Dawes Born 6/24/50 Died 10/19/69 Quang Ngai Province Vietnam

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Oct 27, 2019

Oct 27, 2019 at 9:45 AM UTC

South-by-Southwest

Fifty Years

. Fifty years ago to the month that they laid you in the ground . Only now have I found the words to make a sound . You came home closed coffin bound Not suitable to be viewed . Only now do I frown Thinking about the name in stone that's hewed . That day you died I was left to cry I didn't know what to do . Two teenage lives both said goodbye never to be again . One under 21 gun salute The other under pain . They are still burying you in my mind my time has been unkind . I've lived through a thousand deaths looking for reasons to find . Resigned I am bound by the truth of October '69 Dedicated to : Marine PFC William Le Grand Dawes Born 6/24/50 Died 10/19/69 Quang Ngai Province Vietnam

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