Best Bangkok Poems
Sad Detritus It In Eight
Sam Adams looked back
at the lost loves
Failed opportunities
And monolithic blues
That he concluded
Was the sad detritus of his life.
He sighed and went out
To the Cosmos bar for another drink.
I was sitting along
In a godforsaken bar
Somewhere on the lunatic fringes
Of society
On the bad part of town
Over by railroad tracks
Heading to hell
As fast as I could drink it down
Enjoying my lonely drink
Drinking by my lonesome self
With my partners
Jimmy Dean, and the Walker brother
And his old Granddad
Just drinking and hanging
With the Jack Daniel's gang
A crazed bum
With a thousand year stare
Walks up to me
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He begins
Muttering to himself
Nutty nonsense
Crazy words
In a lunatic's voice
He had the look
Of one possessed
By his own demons
That only he can see
Or hear
Possessed by a secret knowledge
Only he knew
Despite myself
I was fascinated
By this lunatic's tale
So, I stopped him
And said
So, what's your game
Anyway
The short little dude
Stopped his insane prattle
Starting at me
With that thouthousand-year-oldre
Just another washed up
Lunatic
Too many drugs
Too many bad nights
On the wrong side of life
An acid causality from the 60’s
Went out so far
Down the LSD rabbit hole
Never came back
He looked at me
And proclaimed his story
He reared up
And filled up the room
And lifted the bar
On his finger
And stared down at me
From the sky
And said
Since you asked
I am God
The alpha and Omega
The real deal
The original dude of dudes
The sultan of Swing
God of hosts
And father of that Jesus dude
But no one knows me
Any more
No one cares
A Far Cry
A far cry from home
A man sat drinking
Up a storm
2o drinks too sober
Down on his luck
Living by his wits
Down and out
On the street
Of fabled Bangkok
Just another loser
Flotsam white boy
Lost in inner space
Out of his mind
Dreaming dark dreams
As he continued to drink
A far cry from home
A far cry contest entry
May 3, 2021
They think I am irrelevant
They think I am dead
They think I am a fairy tale
From some olden, ancient time
Some say I am dead
Others think I should be dead
That my work is done
I looked at him
Carefully now
And what did I see
An old man
With that lunatic look
But there was something else
He was crazy
Sure yes
But perhaps he was the real deal
I mean why not
Why would not God be
A lunatic wandering around loose
Talking to low lives like me
In a bar
On the way to hell
So, I looked at him
And invited him to share
His tale of woe
God tells me
Well, it's like this
Many a year ago
People believed in me
But one day
They quit believing in me
And they went on without me
As they left me
My powers got weaker and weaker
And so eventually I became
What you see today
A broken down drunk
Hanging out
Looking for a hand out
Looking for some company
Or at least a free dinner
And he laughed and laughed
And I looked at him
And saw the beginnings of the end
And the ends of the beginnings
I saw a million planets
Flash by
A billion people
A trillion sentient beings
Thinking all at once
Thoughts filled my head
Lights flashed
And I knew
He was telling the truth
But it did not matter
In this day and age
Of materialism
God has no role
God is truly dead
And so, I bought him a drink
And walked out of the bar
Profoundly sadden by what I had seen
God was dead
And we had all conspired
To kill him
A young man, driving from work, my car would steer,
for some panang curry and Singha beer
Chao Krung restaurant, my favorite cuisine -
and Bangkok, Thailand in my dream.
A young artist, as I well recall,
painted Bangkok at night on an entire wall,
I can still see the city lights gleam,
the other City of Angels in my dream.
We were young. My, she was pretty.
I offered to show her the L.A. city,
the Angeles forest, a Malibu beach scene,
with my new Bangkok, Thailand dream.
I took language lessons from a monk at Wat Thai,
learning to speak Thai for the apple of my eye.
I was surely in love, and it would seem,
one day, I'd live my Bangkok, Thailand dream.
I look back fondly at memories afar,
her mother teaching us to cook Lard Nar,
Oh, yes, I can remember every scene,
as I dwell on my Krung Tep, Thailand dream.
But in a year, we went separate ways,
though I have fond memories of those days.
A laughing God, made fate intervene,
to the back of my mind went my Bangkok dream.
The friendly Thai people live in the Land of Smiles,
but, from L.A., it's eight thousand miles.
Over the years, my mind construed a scheme,
to visit Bangkok, Thailand, a forty-year dream.
My back is bad. I'm old. I don't travel well.
Planes and conveyances are living hell,
but I'm Googling "business class, supreme".
I can't lose my Bangkok, Thailand dream.
A young man, driving from work, my car would steer,
for some panang curry and Singha beer
Chao Krung restaurant, my favorite cuisine -
and Bangkok, Thailand in my dream.
A young artist, as I well recall,
painted Bangkok at night on an entire wall,
I can still see the city lights gleam,
the other City of Angels in my dream.
We were young. My, she was pretty.
I offered to show her the L.A. city,
the Angeles forest, a Malibu beach scene,
with my new Bangkok, Thailand dream.
But in a year, we went separate ways,
though I have fond memories of those days.
A laughing God, made fate intervene,
to the back of my mind went my Krung Tep dream.
The friendly Thai people live in the Land of Smiles,
but, from L.A., it's eight thousand miles.
Can this old man, live out such a scheme,
and visit Bangkok, Thailand, a forty-year dream?