Thai Thoughts and Anecdotes Part 212

LANGUAGE AND LOVE
(with apologies to Ezra Pound)

Petals, pink petals–
On a wet black bough.
The image freezes me,
In the past and in the now.

Ezra, oh Ezra
Greatest poet to sing–
I can't equal your rhyme,
But I believe you King.

The difference between
Ezra and me–
Is easy to quess,
Easy to see.

But the spark that can't
Jump the gap–
Leaves a heart going cold:
Two souls on a different map.

Morning in Chiang Mai–
Wan and me.
I'm full of anger
At what she can't see.

I speak to one
Who can't understand.
I hurl the words,
But none of them land.

She senses our plight–
Quietly mouths the words.
More anger from me,
And she'll retreat to fright.

Breakfast is a horror
Of silence and grief.
Our ship of love
Has hit a reef.

Language is all,
Beginning and end.
Neither party
Can comprehension lend.

Petals, pink petals
On a wet black bough–
Wan might have been
My future, and my now.

But without language
You can't jump the gap.
Two tearing souls
On a different map.

I'm easily sold–
I believe Pound to be:
And angel of words,
But just beyond me.

I'm easily sold–
I believe Wan to be:
An angel of love,
But just beyond me.

Try to learn Thai guys.
Don't find out too late–
She could have been yours but . . .
Don't let that be your fate.

Language is everything–
The lovers' code.
All else is travel on
A lonely road.

I once met a stupid man
Who had a stupid wife:
But their gap was full of sparks–
They had a happy life.

Travel to Thailand
And smiles will ignite.
But smiles aren't love,
Say hello lonely night.

Laughing is fun
And touching is neat:
She rubs your back–
You wash her feet.

But games aren't words–
Only language succeeds.
I miss you Wan:
My heart still grieves.

I wish we had,
In the future, and in the now:
Petals, pink petals–
On a wet black bough.

Laughing is fun–
And touching is neat;
But language trumps all,
Love now complete.

I lay in bed Wan.
Alone in despair . . .
Throwing you sparks–
But you're not there.

I wish we could have had,
In the future, and most especially in the now:
Petals, pink petals–
On a wet black bough.
__________________

Note: Wan died last week. I got an email from her best friend named Bang. I didn't know Wan's last name. I didn't know where she lived. No place to take flowers–no way to pay respect. Everything was too little too late. Try
to learn to speak the Thai language guys. Don't let this be your fate.