AN ABSOLUTE BEGINNER IN THAILAND II

AN ABSOLUTE BEGINNER IN THAILAND I

KING OF AYUTTHAYA

The skies cleared somewhat

As the road left Bangkok

Behind us

On a tiger's new world stage;

And we travelled routes

Leading west-north-west

To see remnants

Of a more heroic age

When Naresuan

Armed elephants for war,

To defeat his foreign foes in battle -

Single combat between kings -

That ensured

Thailand would be no alien's chattel.

I know Don Chedi's mound will stay with me -

Victory’s relic rising in my dreams.

My night-time eyes will take me back

And I’ll see Ayutthaya’s moats -

Now placid streams -

Graceful grand wats

Worn out only by time,

And the face

Of smiling Buddha reclined.

KWAI RIVER

Precinct of soldiers murdered,

Sacrificed to bridges, cuttings,

And bloody empire,

Fiefdom of thugs once lauded,

Such sordid lords of the flies,

Burning now in hell fire.

But the place is party central tonight,

Tourists walked their dogs

On the bridge today,

All along the river

Lights burn so bright

While floating restaurants

Blast and beat their way

Under the bridge,

Hidden, black as darkness,

As if it only spanned

In daylight hours,

This monument, this testament,

This curse

Upon another era's greatest powers.

Today I walked by the graves
And I cried,

Distressed,

Stressed tears
For lives stolen away.

OGRESS

By the docks of Koh Samed

There’s a guard,

A fierce ogress,

Her mouth a vicious grin,

With the figure

Of an epic’s goddess,

Her face vile

From her hairline to her chin.

But now she’s set

The task of sentinel,

This gruesome beast

Of Phra Aphai Mani,

Her back towards

The craft-crammed fishing port,

Schemer, mermaid-eater,

Bogus beauty.

She laughs at the offspring

Of Sukhumvit,

Arriving to play

On the isle today

Under the gaze

Of Nang Phisua Samut,

Who can surely see

‘Round to every bay.

A suntanned man stares

At her from the pier,

White-bearded, grey-green eyes,

Thirsty for beer.

PHETCHABURI

Shining above a city of diamonds,

On limestone hills that stretch out like tree roots

From the base of the Tenasserim Range,

The grand citadel of Khao Wang salutes.

Mongkut’s summer palace and royal wat

Adorn each rise like flooding waterfalls;

Sweeping porches perched on the counterslopes,

Bougainvilleas potted near plastered walls.

Beyond the tricoloured paper petals

Are massed stands of dormant leelawadee,

Branches reaching upward like amorous hands

Studded with buds soon to be flowered free.

Away from the crowds a silence glistens,

Wise men must gaze, a wiser soul listens.

CHA-AM

"I should have been a pair of ragged claws

Scuttling across the floors of silent seas."

(T S Eliot, 'The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock')

Beaches of the western gulf are quiet,

Waves neither crash nor roar,

But sigh and moan,

As if their thoughts

Were deeply drowned secrets

And the shouts of surf

Would render them known.

The day's colours

All fade into one shade -

Ocean, sand too,

Powdered blue-grey, grey-blue.

Some pigments change

Upon sunset's climax -

Scarlet, gold,

Above the craggy peaked view.

Young women pose

For digital portraits,

Picked by fingers

Of doting paramours;

No one, except me,

Seems to see the sea,

Only the girls' wet feet

Can sense its shores.

Ancient ‘farang’ men

Give iced beers a nudge,

Hiding ragged claws,

Minds prone to misjudge.

In January there's a cold north wind,

And even Nordic types

Wear shoes and socks,

While the townspeople

Don scarves and jackets

To watch pale green streams

Slap against the rocks.

There are confusions

In this climate change -

Strangely the sea spray still feels

Slightly warm

For those who know

Places of harsh winters,

And rain comes teeming

Like a summer storm.

Fragrances of pungent leelawadee

Soft mask the scent of salt

On beachside roads,

Mixing with smoke

From street stall barbecues.

Massage shops are empty,

No one disrobes.

The same foreign men

Sip cola and rum,

Hiding ragged claws,

Waiting for the sun.