Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#thailand
Five thousand, nine hundred, And ninety point five miles; The distance today which Brought me tears upon smiles I listened intently, Held the phone to my cheek, The tears left my eyes As I willed you to speak Your voice lights such a Special place in my heart, Never want you to stop Yet to hear you is hard My rock, my paternal Connection to the world, Bells chime in my heart, Your voice soothes my soul The words that you speak Full of wisdom and glee, You pull on my heart strings I miss you immensely My father, my world, The one I adore, I long for the day I'll see you once more
0
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 7:42 PM UTC
The Absence of a Daddies Girl
The city is dead Like thunder shouting into The infinite blue.
0
Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 1:03 PM UTC
bangkok, thailand early May rain
The cancer we feed Western hegemony A fire out of control Imperialistic goals The secret coup The crippling fall Forfeiture of resources Loss of civil law Do you not see their master plan?
0
Jul 29, 2024
Jul 29, 2024 at 12:39 PM UTC
Their Master Plan
there was an old temple of Thai whose monks just wanted to get high so they got hooked on meths but were exposed through their breaths so they all bid their temple good-bye now off they all went to rehab to cure them of the sniff and the jab but their bright robes and habit of the monks and their abbot made the inmates think they'd gone mad "we're seeing orange" they said to the quack, who put down his bottle of Jack, said he, rather tight, "i think you are right, but the bottle is better than crack".
0
Nov 30, 2022
Nov 30, 2022 at 7:09 AM UTC
The Farcical Monks of Thai
"Please forget me as fast as you can" How can we forget the person who has so much to remember? Is it that easy
0
Mar 8, 2021
Mar 8, 2021 at 10:40 PM UTC
Forgetting
do you sleep again tonight you are there but here in mind seems you're tired as you say coz you're good, nice and sweet you have brown hair in memories i am Asian girl in your face i like you more night change but i miss you now your place must getting cold please tell me if you see the snow coz everywhere you go i can't see if you walked alone tonight wish ill be there with you beside like i heard you said i'm pretty
0
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 10:00 AM UTC
night change in the day i lost you
i wanna touch your hands and dance with you tonight our feet touch the ground dance around through city and lights now i look at the stars to keep you in my life i'm frighten now without you here tonight
0
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 9:33 AM UTC
dance in gloom
"feeling like the night i sleep why isn't enough people walk while i'm climbing to the mountain top there's nothing means when you break it up and fade away i'm jumping to the hell and try to make you stay when you want me jump i knees down and cry i was stabbed by your knife you said goodbye"
0
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 9:24 AM UTC
jump to the hell
It's late in the evening 🎇 I'm wondering what clothes to wear 😌 Thinking about our old stuff And brush my long dark hair 😌 I asked "do I look alright? " U said "yes u look beautiful tonight " I went to Bangkok city U can see my straight hair that night I asked "do u feel alright? " U said "yes I feel wonderful tonight " Flensburg far away from me But now can u see ? With my lonely eyes I tried my best in everything 🙂 Why I'm still suffering deep down my mind?
0
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 7:45 AM UTC
wonderful in painful night
P huket's infamous Promthep cape R adiant beauty that O hhhh-struck M any eyes T he sunrise and sunsets H ave brought so much delight E verybody let's keep P rompthep's beauty forever ALIVE
0
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 4:09 PM UTC
PROMTHEP
Alright, England’s freezing, But in December Thailand's cold. The more I feel the chilly air, The more I feel I'm old. My nose is getting runny, It’s glowing rosy red. I need to find a buxom bust, To rest my cold filled head. But soon it will be summer, And the sweat will start to seep. Then, I’ll kick her out of bed And get some ****** sleep.
0
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 5:38 AM UTC
Winter in Thailand
The ancient Chedi stands eternal in the gated town of the golden land among thousand peaks, this is the primary pilgrims take refuge and tourists wow can one have desire and not suffer? therein the omniscient one answers
0
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 9:36 PM UTC
The Phra Pathom Chedi
He’s the father the light that guide the rain that shower the land with hope look up now he is in the clouds above whispering words of comfort giving strength to the people he loves this blessed memory lingers on a gentle warmth in all our hearts
0
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 10:06 PM UTC
In Memory of a King in Suvaṇṇabhūmi
a familiar tune breaking through the morning news Oh yes, it’s loy krathong humming along to the tune ah, I should remember to put a thanksgiving basket onto the river for the goddess of water as the candles flow may the light in your heart continues to glow
0
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 10:32 PM UTC
Loy Krathong - Floating a Basket
The wetland is in its daylight beauty the calm water mirrors the still blue sky upon the pond among reeds and cattails are two elegant, wild white swans mysterious and graceful, reflecting the charm of Thailand and her people
0
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 3:34 AM UTC
A Stopover
Thai By This place gets under your skin. Slowly creeping in like black Texas gold. I said I'd never partake in the cat house girls. Seeing them each day for eighteen months was routine. Walking past the 'venues' to my shop. Usual hi's and hello's. Then one fine humid day, bang! I happened. I changed. Cabin fever? I walked into Suzi's Place. I put my cash on the counter and grinded the mamasan first. Then her two daughters followed by every other girl in there. It took thirteen hours. I totalled twenty eight girls. Most were nice. I can't tell my wife. My mate could, his wife's cool. Mine isn't. I'll say I was busy inking from dawn to dusk. I'm not sure what came over me. The Thai air got under my skin. That day tattooing could wait. Maybe I'll do it again. Invite my wife and her toy boy. Did I say that people are strange here? I fit in well...
0
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 5:48 PM UTC
Thai By
I’m tired of these lonesome nights spent **** in fist and staring at the ceiling. Exist in thought and again through ever-changing screens; it’s been years since I lived through action. Desiccated white heels in the dust of Savannakhet. Finding love in the half-dark Bangkok hotel room. The bar-maid in Malaga, hash from Morocco, all those nights spent lusting for blood amongst the wine. Now getting high means finding an anchor to hold me down when gravity does not feel enough. When all forces of G-d and Nature combined Cannot rattle hard enough to force me to speak in any half-filled room. Sometimes I’m certain the noise in my chest can be heard aloud and everyone knows I am nothing. I wonder why in all my dreams Beauty follows in my footsteps. I wonder why in all my dreams I’m running away from something.
0
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 1:45 AM UTC
The Last Postcard (Dream #6)
Where we are is somewhere quiet. Somewhere along the outskirts of a border town between Thailand and Cambodia. I'm walking along what should be a desolate road under the glow of a late afternoon sky, In the near distance a flock of birds shroud past a little girl being pushed around in a wheelbarrow by her brother. I don't hear anything, everything has the volume turned down, Muted to a still silence, and it's then I realize I've lost the rest of my senses too. All but my sight, which is fixated closely on the most genuine smile and happiness I've ever come to witness. Here and now has never been more imminent, for the first time in my history I might actually just be living in the present.
0
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 7:07 AM UTC
The Quiet Place
Bing bing **** annouce train to Chiang Mai departs soon! the king sleeps dog barks
0
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 4:46 AM UTC
Untitled
I can't stop thinking about you But I cannot find the right words to speak So much artistry to make this forever anew Scrambled by the instance it seeks my hand The loss of you continues to make me weak Yet in a distance I know you are just fine I shouldn't have let you in To the deepest of chambers Held by the vessel of all emotion Tarnished by seemingly endless wars The thought of us now many see as sin A notion Splitting my mind since the moment We left the mainland To forge memories no one Can claim were their own Several hands have been dealt To help me forget Everything I felt and all I thought I saw Your silence sends the message I should walk away Back into the chambers Of the secluded fortress I once let you in I know our new friends Watch my pursuits grow further Which leads me to wonder If you think about me As much as I think about you Despite what I want to happen I know I must let fate run its course If our paths cross again Maybe, just maybe Or it will prove I shouldn't have let you in
0
Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 10:04 PM UTC
Confession
I love the sound of the city she says It is like a storm against the window I can lie naked and ruined after a long day and be grateful to find stillness. In the morning I hear monks chanting In the afternoon it is all traffic In the evening I hear stray dogs as people find each other in the dark. I love the sound of the city she says the sound of chaos the sound of calm.
0
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 3:21 PM UTC
Storm
Spent the evening walking nowhere streets dodging horns and sirens of hungry motorbike taxis. It was a parade of street-food vendors, security guards half asleep by bottles of whiskey. Every woman I passed was beautiful, laid their *** on the numbered tables as off-hand as their mobile phone, their purse; their bored men. Each one had their toenails painted, wore short skirts and vest tops in the stifling heat. The best of them wore tight dresses of black or red and ate their food in the same studious manner I imagined they would take to the zip of my jeans. Could feel the sweat roll down my back kicking gravel out my sandals every ten strides. The playboys rev their motorbikes as if it were a talent they had been working on, a kind of siren song to tempt the free women. Each one is on the lookout for a bargain. Each one streaks past to some indiscernible point where they will bury themselves amongst the massage parlours, karaoke bars, and short-stay hotels; Each one a straight-up brothel once you make it through the doors. I feel too awkward in this ******* town to order a sandwich let alone try out my second language to ask for a cheap ******* Every foreigner here had some kind of breakdown. Some kind of complex that drew them like a moth to flame to some place where white skin is enough to feign riches, stimulate desire and place you amongst better men. We steal a living for a year or two of forever blue skies. We eat good food and toast ourselves every evening with cold lager and palm leaf cigarettes. We cannot read a word in these humid streets where every single building holds a portrait of the King. Spent the evening with my shadow, both alive in the night beneath the heady aroma of cooking oil and street-food spice, both hurting to become, both slipping out of sight.
0
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 3:02 PM UTC
Phet Kasem Road
Spent the evening walking nowhere streets dodging horns and sirens of hungry motorbike taxis. It was a parade of street-food vendors, security guards half asleep by bottles of whiskey. Every woman I passed was beautiful, laid their *** on the numbered tables as off-hand as their mobile phone, their purse; their bored men. Each one had their toenails painted, wore short skirts and vest tops in the stifling heat. The best of them wore tight dresses of black or red and ate their food in the same studious manner I imagined they would take to the zip of my jeans. Could feel the sweat roll down my back kicking gravel out my sandals every ten strides. The playboys rev their motorbikes as if it were a talent they had been working on, a kind of siren song to tempt the free women. Each one is on the lookout for a bargain. Each one streaks past to some indiscernible point where they will bury themselves amongst the massage parlours, karaoke bars, and short-stay hotels; Each one a straight-up brothel once you make it through the doors. I feel too awkward in this ******* town to order a sandwich let alone try out my second language to ask for a cheap ******* Every foreigner here had some kind of breakdown. Some kind of complex that drew them like a moth to flame to some place where white skin is enough to feign riches, stimulate desire and place you amongst better men. We steal a living for a year or two of forever blue skies. We eat good food and toast ourselves every evening with cold lager and palm leaf cigarettes. We cannot read a word in these humid streets where every single building holds a portrait of the King. Spent the evening with my shadow, both alive in the night beneath the heady aroma of cooking oil and street-food spice, both hurting to become, both slipping out of sight.
Continue reading...
36
I saved my sanity. Wandering, lost in Chiang Mai. The Child, bewildered, At all the greatest treasures. Yet a map had not revealed The back-alleys, hidden between gazes. In the weave of foreign air, There lies a curious urge To explore. Pondering. You took me around, Aimless at cause, but Genuine in eagerness. You smile speaks in stars. Taking in the blue jar, Laughter over mind. Thinking in balance, The necessity in fun: Every story, an adventure, Every sip, diving deeper, Every shot, poetic. All in days of conversation. Yet, what lies in fatal attraction, Pulling me towards you. Your state of mind; Your insecurities, your imperfections. You were lost too. Life had not yet reveal The answer to your questions, and You stand in frustration, without The sanctimony of Comfort. Let me add to yours. Would you take my hand? Share this journey with me, as I give you The chance to find your pursuit? Maybe, just maybe. We'll have the end in Chiang Mai.
0
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 8:22 PM UTC
Lost in Chiang Mai.