Bryan Thao Worra Poems

Will I ever see poppies
In their natural habitat?
How red they appear in
All of these pictures beside
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Since the 6th century B.C.,
The Buddha has said
The right perspective,
The right motive,
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Sometimes, I want to tell you.
Laying by your side, it‟s a mystery to explain
Why I gave up my poetry for so long.
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Goes in hot. Comes out hot.
But this may be more than the casual student
Will want to know.
...

I came to Missoula to ask him
About the inner workings of ua neeb.
To understand the symbolic significance of split horns
And spirit horses who trace their noble smoky path
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When I go to sleep there is a distant city for a nation,
And in that city a street at night, fragrant as a frangipani.
On that street there is a house, there is a room, there is a pillow,
Soft and welcoming like a strong woman‟s smile
...

So many days in flight, in the air or on stage
Lately, you seem half human, half bird,
Almost mythic, always beautiful and magic.
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There‟s only a few in creation
Who read me like you.

So it goes.
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Enter the heart and you understand.
To be jai yen, my heart cool, without worries,
I smile like a nak, a rainbow bridge, a June rain,
Trying to find a middle path I‟m happy with:
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April begins as a joke in a house of children:
A surprise, a word, a laugh if we‟re lucky.
There are still bills and taxes and poems ahead, at least in America.
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