Student Poetry Reading
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Boromrajakumaree Building room 314, noon-1 p.m.
Email in comments so your friends can have feedback on their poems.
1. “Are Roses Red,” Alisa
“My Loved One” and “Bad Time for Best Time,” Narasak
3. “The Journey Under the Scorching Sun” and
"Married to Misery," Isariya
4. “Monster” and “I sit alone in a room,” Aphaporn
5. “Murder in a Bus,” Sommanassa
6. “Heat,” Aunchidtha Suwanyingyong
“Laugh for Cry,” Suebskul
8. “Undecided,” Suwida
“Do You Believe in Destiny” and “My heart is
10. “I look at the dark sky,” Esther
“My View,” Pimwalan
12. “Impermanency,” Jirawut
13. “Waking to Death,” Amarat
14. “On the Quest for Happiness,”
15. “Why Is the World so Rushing?,” Suluck
Are Roses Red,
And Violets Blue?
If Sugar’s sweet,
Then why aren’t You?
My Heart I gave
Yet You let down.
So long I’ve wait
Till Red turned Brown.
Blue Heart that broke
Up close You bring,
Tend it with Love,
Till Blue turns Pink.
Roses aren’t Red,
Violets aren’t Blue,
Sugar’s not sweet
As much as You.
Waking up in the dawn tortures me
Walking into a bitter cold shower
Willing not to go, but forced by she
Wishing not to be there, but what I can do better
While on the way, sleepy
Would she stop bothering me?
With this job thing so creepy
Whining, please stop, yelled she
Wanting not to get here, but finally I do
Waving at me, a neat lady looking sincere
Why here? Taken everyday too
When will I get out, I fear
But my job, my best, said she
For my bright tomorrow, as well, I agree
To where I will go from here
In such lonesome and bitter cold night
Corpse, blood soaked, ravens fulfill the atmosphere
How horror faces, mouth open wide, in every sight
Walking with barefeet through them
Tasting their solid odor
Holding my old rag doll, tears overwhelmed
No signs of whom I look for
Above me a saturated red red sky
Under barefeet slimy skins of warriors, dwellers
This war, may I ask why?
How my empty life, should I treat her better
There my love one stays silently beside a dreadful tree
My love one who will never come back to me
Scorching sun in mid-summertime
Burning trees beside the walking-line
Melting surface of the road
Drying waters in the moat
"Hihihi Hahaha Huhuhu..."
"Hihihi Hahaha Huhuhu..."
Everywhere, I can hear the laughter
Hotness might make people be crazier
laugh, laugh and laugh
They're laughing with no reason
This is caused by the scorching sun.
Marriage with fun and joy
Fire-red roses were coiled
On the head of the bride
who will have a later coil,
dealing her life with small noisy boys
I sit on the ground
watch the monster in front of me
watch it dance joyfully
watch its red body cover my home
hear its sound laughing at me
swallow cry of the baby
whose mother left by the monster
watch it go without goodbye
nothing remains but the heap of ash.
I sit alone in the room
No one is by my side
It is dark and quiet
But I can't escape
from noise in silence
Underneath my well-done body
the furnace was nonstop deflagrating.
My cooked stomach got me
enjoying a tidal wave of nausea.
The asphalt down there seemed
to soak everywhere like lava.
I realized I could not have got in
because of scintillating, steaming sweat
secreted from people’s boiled skin
that left the sour scent
every square inch of this stuffed bus.
And then I was hit by such a stench
I would never be familiar with.
And that was how I was cold-bloodedly killed
by the very slushy armpit.
The cristal dew climbs down the tree
walking on the street of moss,
greeting godlike children with glee.
Cradle flowers whose color’s of the dove
sleeping on their mother shoulders-
outstretched branches with good slope.
“Where are you going?”, one little flower asks
“Going to feed you,
Down to the roots I will start my task”
But the conversation’s now interrupted,
as a machine starts gnawing
And all flowers start cherish.
“Go, go, do it. There is no time left to just maunder
Thank God. Thank boss.
My mother will be so many, many furniture. ”
“And I will be in the vase
Watching her from above
My mama table will do her best.”
But now I am wondering.
Who is the boss? Who is the God?
But never be high-minded human being.
Earthy-skinned being’s first mistaken to be
a cunning coyote but not only carnivorous,
herbivorous also could be.
Finally I realize this living death is of no type.
He might be cursed or corrupted
by many dews of Diablo pumping of his skin’s pipes.
Burn me up in the boiling lava
Burn me up in the eternal flame
Burn me up with your last long passion
And pay no attention to any shame
Ha Ha Ha My Mother Cries
Being afraid that I'm going to die
He He He How Can I Be Gone
Never Never cause I was just born
What should I do? What you suggest?
Step or stop, which choice would be the best?
The hidden voice tells me that I should go.
But deeper voice inside of me says “No.”
Do you believe in destiny?
I have to admit that I didn't.
Everything seemed to be just the way it was,
just how it should be.
I didn't care, didn't notice anything,
didn't even appreciate.
Life had been just a life,
and nothing more.
Then we met.
Life is no longer just a life.
Life is something wonderful.
I care, I notice,
and I do appreciate things in my life.
Everything seems to be more than it actually is;
more beautiful, more meaningful.
I do believe it now.
Do you believe in destiny?
My heart is small when you were in it,
But how big and empty it is now that you are gone.
I look at the dark sky one night.
All I can see is the shining lights
From the stars above my head.
Then I lay down on my bed.
In the castle of hate, I stay
And watch people passing through my way.
Hoping they just leave me alone,
I do not want my name be known
By those disgusting, awful people
I won’t receive even their apple
Weird! I clearly see them at night
But then I’m blind in the daylight.
A butterfly flies
In the blue sky.
A butterfly dies
In the blue sky.
Alive to die.
I can’t sing
When you’re gone.
Hip, hip, hooray!
Let’s dance, my friend.
My muscles are tense and ready.
We can make noises together.
Oh, you have to go?
Right, good luck.
Dance with me next time.
I want to shake my skirt.
Waking when the sun rises is lifeless
I would rather sleep and be alive
Than wake up and know I will never thrive
For three comes a new day in the darkness.
If I wake, I shall wake for my strife
So how can the sun not become somber?
If I wake, my love shall have another
So how can the sun overcome my life?
I’m not a dreamer; I just hate to wake.
I AM much HURT when YOU be TRAY
My HEART THUMPS // and TREM bles with PAIN
I HEAR the CRASH when YOU slay
My TRUST // NE-ver to FEEL a- GAIN
Rushing through the forest,
under my feet were dead, dry leaves,
coloring the ground with bright yellow and brown,
crackling as I walked upon them.
On the orange carpet, I paced faster.
Then, suddenly, I was stopped
by a huge cloud of orange leaves,
flipping their wings,
rising like a phoenix up into the sky,
revealing the cloud I never observed.
I found a lamp beneath the sand;
it looked a little dusty.
Therefore, I cleaned it with my hands,
and then it shook so wildly.
Boom! Bang! The smoke was belching out
along the Genie swished.
He said to me “Please do pronounce.
I shall give you three wishes.”
Half-scared, I stared at him and said,
“The richest, I want to be!”
Kaboom! the crown popped on my head.
All gold in front of me.
With all the gold, I knew for sure
my life would be so fancy-
have all I want, be no more poor-
But will I be happy?
With doubt, I hurriedly declared,
“I want to be omniscient!”
Kaboom! And I became aware
of things and all conditions
For knowing all, I made my last wish.
Things went black, forever.
quickly the sound I seasoned
moving sway so much
crushing things with a nudge
brushing dust to the air.
This world I live so much
has become a sound of flush
joyfulness coming the piece of hut
mudding around with trees.
O, which guts then should I trust,
going with streams of dust or a dusk full of pine trees?
 This is my poem about my journey from my home to school. It is my feeling when I was young, I didn’t want to go to school but my mom forced me to go.
 This poem suggests the heat which rises from anger and finally changes into coldness.
Home | Introduction to the Study of Poetry
Last updated September 20, 2007