Poetry from Thailand

Original poetry written in and about rural Thailand.

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Location: Chong Khae, Nakhonsawan, Thailand

Saturday, March 26, 2016

Easter





I have never been in Jerusalem
but after years of teaching in the
Middle East, I have been pretty close.

I have never been on the road
to Damascus and seen a resurrected
Jesus, either, but relatively speaking
compared to most I’ve been in the area
and so been pretty close.

Once in Greece, I rode in an air conditioned
bus while a Bell Tour Guide pointed out
the cave where Socrates drank hemlock.
It wasn’t much to look at and if not similar
to the stone that was rolled away from
Jesus’s crypt, I bet it was pretty close.

My sister argues again and again that
the religious nut jobs are responsible
for all the wars and evil in this world.
Maybe.  But after seventy years of being
sorrowed and joyed by the human
entanglement of life, I’m not so sure.

Get me off in a private corner where
I know there’s no escape and ask me again.
Then, with the wild eyes of an old
Greek warrior going into battle to
kill or be killed, I might answer differently.  

Am I a religious nut job?  Probably not.
But I have a feeling that’s hard to deny
with all things considered that I probably
am getting pretty close.

FG           3/26/2016

The money donated by family and friends is in my bank in Wyoming.  It matches almost to the dollar what I spent for six days and five nights in Bangkok Hospital in Phitsanulok, Thailand.  I am at a loss for words to say thanks.  The Greeks called poetry the Master Art and in some small part I am going to think that your gift was a vote for poetry (even poetry that flat-out sucks).

I am home and feeling better, but feeling better and getting better with this hideous disease whatever it might be called, I know are two different things.

Christ the Lord has risen for sure.

Life is not a journey but an entanglement.

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