Yikes - poetry!

Trip Start Nov 06, 2006
1
12
54
Trip End Jun 15, 2007


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Flag of Lao Peoples Dem Rep  ,
Saturday, December 23, 2006

I'm not one to write poetry much, but apparently circumstances this morning awoke a long dormant muse. So, please excuse 2 sophomoric scribblings! What comes out of the pen is often a (scary) surprise to me...

Louang Prabang

We arrive.
We're charmed by
Winding alleys,
Brick sidewalks,
Vivid orange monks robes,
The finely tuned hum of
Buddha
Fills the air.
I love it here.

Luscious silks.
Fine patterns.
Ancient clatter of wooden loom.
Warm smiles.
I get ripped off.
Then later,
At 5am.
Darkness.
Deep, powerful sleep.
Nearby a dog begins to bark.
Twenty minutes pass without silence render
Tigthtening stomach,
Reawaken cramps and churnings from
Last night's bad food.
I want to kill the dog.
I hate it here.

Which is Louang Prabang?
The one I love? Or the one I hate?
My mind knows better.

Sound

Before the sun.
Before the roosters even.
A barking dog pierces sleep's sweet kiss
With thin, rusty, hollow bark.
Lonely, stupid bark.
Sharp echoes fading away
Like my chance for rest.
Bloodshot eyes staring toward ceiling.
Exhausted, I picture her.
Barking while her tired,
Scruffy white gnarled bone of a body,
And her saggy worn tits,
Shake with effort.
More barking.
My teeth clench.
Is the owner deaf?
The neighbors wake, talk angrily.
I take solace in their sympathy with my fury.
Plot my revenge.

Suddenly silence.
Anger subsides.
Sleep drifts back.

Then barking.
Wicked, wicked dog.
She continues.
Anger surges again.

I watch it now.
And wonder.
If the incessant barking
Were instead the
Chanting of monks,
Rusty ring of morning gongs,
Hollow thud of prayer drum,
Robbing me of my precious sleep,
Would I be angry now?

She barks again.
This time no anger.
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