The Bookstore Experience

If I wish to know about the culture,
I just need to find the local bookstore.
The imagination, here, they nurture,
And discover what these large tomes are for.
All the mythology and history
Gather together in neat little rows.
Here I can unpack a new mystery
As my knowledge of the old country grows.
Opened books come with an enchanting smell
Of adventure and anticipation.
Within its musty pages I will dwell,
Exploring all the corners of this nation.
On my trips, it’s a box I like to tick
‘Cause reading is a hard habit to kick.

Never a Real Winner

Can you still be considered a winner
If they have to change the rules just for you?
Your management makes you a bumbler,
Looking for a free handout and a clue.
All players can follow regulations
Agreed to everyone involved.
You think you deserve a stipulation
Because you are old and haven’t evolved.
Whether you look to your network of spies,
Or you make your plans with deflated balls,
Your success relies on a pack of lies.
Even false giants will receive their falls.
Though you keep track with your expensive rings,
Their tarnish will never give them their blings.

Buddha’s Man Cave

Pay attention to the sign at the gate,
And only allow the right clientele
Entrance to my silvery estate.
Certain genders are unable to tell
Deeper understandings of my design.
I wish to tell the stories of heroes
Who are admired by those of like mind,
And have been treated in life as zeroes.
They’re the ones who truly knowing suffering
As they travel the path to nirvana.
It is the pilgrimage they are taking
That brings them to this temple of mana.
It is here where they know how to behave
In the place where we built Buddha’s man cave.

What It’s All About

When the death of thousands does not matter
‘Cause it does not directly affect you,
It makes your agenda even sadder
Because you did not act on what you knew.
Now that you use your elite position
To make risky investments on a cure,
It shows that your financial intention
About saving this country is not pure.
Your goal is to stuff your pocketbook
And dance on the grave of America.
I weep for the integrity you took
Behind the obvious lie of MAGA.
It will take many years to recover
From the way you left my home in tatters.

Paradise Defined

Why do all paradises have to look
The same? Where does it say that palm trees
Need to sway next to a babbling brook
And the views have to have the bluest seas?
Maybe sights a little more dramatic
Is where my soul will find the peace it seeks,
A wintry landscape that’ majestic
With the earth torn asunder by peaks.
The gathering clouds threaten a snowfall,
And I beg for them to release their might.
We are protected from its bitter call
In a cabin perched on the mountain’s height.
I start to long for a different view
When I am in the one thought of by you.

Drive on the Coast

We have made the afternoon for a drive
Over the wooded hills along the coast.
It feels good to get out of the hive
To chase away the collected year’s ghost.
Others are not willing to venture out
And reclaim the civilization’s shore.
Taking their time is what it is about,
And I should not coax them out of their door.
Until then, I am alone on the road,
Breathing in deeply, the wafting sea air
Where, at one time, my memory had stowed
What it had once been like to have been there.
This idea of freedom is fleeting,
But at any chance, it is worth repeating.

Consumption

Do I really need to move from this spot?
I have become very comfortable.
Though this lounge chair may have started to rot,
It is still close to the feast at the table.
I will continue to gorge myself here
While the legs of my seat begins to bow.
I know that there is nothing I need fear
When I ignore all that I need to know.
Passion must be driven forward by glut,
Smacking away the hands that reach in need.
I’ll just buy a new pad to hold my butt
As I wave for the meal to proceed.
When my heart makes the system fall apart,
I’ll claim others have the sin in their heart.

The Common Fight

We face this situation together.
There is no way we can reach victory
If we do not look out for each other
By protecting common territory.
I know we live in the land of the free
And our beliefs need to be respected,
But my right to freedom ceases to be
When simple courtesy is neglected.
These are the rights afforded to all men
To feel safe while walking down the street,
But this allotment begins to end when
My rights and your comfort start to compete.
It comes down to a simple thing to ask,
Have the decency to please wear a mask.

Greatest Hits

In life, sometimes you need a vacation
Where you do not witness anything new.
You need to fulfill your relaxation,
And to make sure the surprises are few.
You know spots where they treat you like a king,
Ready to serve your favorite meals.
You won’t engage in any sightseeing
Or search out the touristy appeals.
You’ll surround yourself with the familiar
As you walk down paths you’ve walked down before.
The last time you were here, they were a blur,
But this time around, you know what’s in store.
You know that the short time only permits
You to revisit all your greatest hits.

Conventional Lies

I can explain what you are doing is wrong
Because I am a million miles away.
I have learned from my life as a farang*
The downfall of the American way.
You do not see because you are so close
To the mess that is being created.
Your rhetoric is nothing but verbose
And nothing real is being debated.
When you spend all of your time bickering
About the better ideology,
The hope of the nation is flickering
To hold on to its true philosophy.
Problems are not solved by waving your flags,
But solutions through compromising tags.

*farang – Thai word for foreigner