Best Rattan Poems

They are not from Chiang Mai,
they are a tribal people
who speak a hill language.
They ride through the night
on bicycles to settle at dawn
beside the Ping River.

Girls' unroll rattan mats
squat beside straw hats brimful
with the tang of burgundy chilies
They have vegetables
grown in lime green waters,
parched salty...

Continue reading...

Garden Party

Summer breezes gently 
Brushes against my face
Sunlight teases my eyes
Wakens me 
Its morning 
Bouquet of fragrances to my nose
Guides me to my garden
Its there I find my peace
Eagerly stepping onto glistening dewy grass 
Placing myself among the copious of blooms
I sit beneath my maple...

Continue reading...

Through the long gone years, I have much grown…
From a young schoolboy to a present day aging crone…

But in my mind, I am as I have always been…
All through the years and after all that I have seen..

Now that I am trying to frame some...

Continue reading...

The quick thumps made 
          me realize he is breaking 
down, little by 
          little –

As opposed to those 
       ...

Continue reading...

PUDLOS*

You are a rattan stick.
You show an image of 
discipline
with my father's strong 
hand
gripping tightly on one 
of your ends.

Father shouts in anger as 
you hit me.
(I have made a mistake!)
I cry helplessly and with 
regret.

Your bending on me 
inflicts a pain,
sometimes a scar that...

Continue reading...

Horrified Woodland

In the forest of bamboo poles walked it was hot and 
I felt like a lost ant not remembering where its hill was.
I tried to pull up a bamboo pole I remembered that
as a boy I had a rattan fishing rod, 
but could not,...

Continue reading...

Hands folded prayer like to beseech thee 
   to abduct me with no cause to up braid
natural temptation found temptation commanding 
   from divine dada disobeyed
Earthbound Olympian of love,
 
   now dwells amidst mossy secluded glade
a natural bed of...

Continue reading...

My laundry basket’s tall and round,
Of wicker or rattan.
We’ve had it since some years before
Our children’s lives began.

It sits beneath the windowsill,
Its cover in its place
And patiently accepts our clothes
‘Til it is out of space.

The sheet and towels, socks and shirts
And pants all end up...

Continue reading...

a tall glass
of chilled lemonade
in his hand,

      he sits
      in a rattan lounging chair
      at the veranda

             ...

Continue reading...

Bangs… shots of memories past
Take me back to where I was…

The barbed wire walls,
The plank beds
The grenades fall.

My eyes were wide open
Like a lost deer separated from the herd. 
The smoke clouding my eyes,
Even the wisdom of the elders failed;
Garlic would not ward off 
The...

Continue reading...

Temporal incarnation of Aphrodite...

induces idyllic reverie
delight evoking similar surge,
when skirting, and eluding 
fidelity defining the marital law
on par with courting in flagrante delicto.

After reading about 
Greek goddess of love
fancy notion woke whereof
warmth suffused me
snug as fingers fitted into glove
subsequent laissez faire attitude
welcomed salvation, overstimulation, 
labialization,...

Continue reading...

like a rattan vine
I try to creep, climb and crawl ~
to touch the blue sky

15 November 2021...

Continue reading...

My father bought a Willys Jeep
When I was just a kid.
My mother took one look at it
And man, she flipped her lid.

A station wagon was the car
He’d told her he would buy.
To him, they were equivalent;
He hadn’t tried to lie.

We didn’t have it very long
But...

Continue reading...

Rocking slowly
A rattan armchair
Tired body
Eyes pinning at the ceiling 
Blank 
No lizards 
No beetles 
Bored and alone
Mind loose 
Eyes dimming 
On the past
Fading away
At last eyes closed 
For the present
For a short nap 
And a better tomorrow...

Continue reading...

Like nomad soul, he flew away 
Looking for a fine place to stay 
A deck of cards, full of aces 
He searched gold in far flung places

His great nickname means "rattan bag"
He's a packer, moved like fierce slug 
He hiked on mountains, walked on plains...

Continue reading...