Thailand November 2009 (2)
In Nakhon Pathom
we posed for
the tallest Buddhist pagoda
then watched
The greatest Elephant Show
In Phetchaburi
we sunbathed in Cha-am Beach,
and had
time viewing the
scenic mountains,
limestone caves,
and ancient temples.
Finally in Prachuap Khiri
we went inside Klai Kangwon Palace,
a summer palace of the King and the Royal Family,
courtesy of the ambassador
friend of my father-in-law.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Sate
'Sate, sate..... te te'
Sound builders satay at night
echoed through the halls of the capital
go on and on so every night
the walls of the houses across the street, alleys
in the capital of the kingdom
witness craft, tenacity and perseverance
peddle wares
favorite food of all citizens,
officials and the king
anticipated arrival
moreover the king's wife and family
they secretly love it
although manners forbade direct contact
with the repairman satay
'Te, te...... te goat, and cow's father.... '
Until one day the king, officials and retainer
In the vicinity of the royal palace
Angry, out skewers
Preceded by residents who are hungry
From staying up all night, patrolling
The Nayaka, the courtiers can only be silent
When the officials angry
Moreover, the royal family.
'If so, tell the repairman satay'
Only selling to serve the royal family.
Or call a palace cook
The rickshaw satay did not enter the palace
Become a palace cook
He prefers, the king occupies land
In addition to the road to the palace mosque
And do not want to be separated with customers
In this life
Most prized possessions is the fidelity
To the people who love him
Not germerlap money, rewards and praise
Of courtiers
Which at times was bored
So kick
Life can not be measured
only of desire
worldly
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Palace Of The Brine
In a place they say is dead
In the lake thats like an ocean
I count about a billion head
All the time
Theres a motion
Palace of the brine
I saw the cloning
Of the famous family
I heard the droning
In the shrine
Of the sea-monkey
Palace of the brine
Beneath reflections in the fountain
The starry sky and utah mountains
They are swimming happily
Cant you see
A life thats so sublime
Palace of the brine.
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crackerbox Palace
I was so young when I was born
My eyes could not yet see
And by the time of my first dawn
Somebody holding me . . . they said
I welcome you to crackerbox palace
Weve been expecting you
You bring such joy in crackerbox palace
No matter where you roam know our love is true
While growing up or trying to
Not knowing where to start
I looked around for someone who
May help reveal my heart - someone said
While youre a part of cracerbox palace
Do what the rest all do
Or face the fact that crackerbox palace
May have no other choice than to deport you
I welcome you to crackerbox palace
Weve been expecting you
You bring us joy in crackerbox palace
No matter where you roam know our love is true
Sometimes are good . . . sometimes are bad
Thats all a part of life
And standing in between them all
I met a mr. grief - and he said
I welcome you to crackerbox palace
Was not expecting you
Lets rap and tap at crackerbox palace
Know that the lord is well and inside of you
(chorus)
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Buckingham Palace
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
Alice is marrying one of the guard.
"A soldier's life is terrible hard,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We saw a guard in a sentry-box.
"One of the sergeants looks after their socks,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We looked for the King, but he never came.
"Well, God take care of him, all the same,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
They've great big parties inside the grounds.
"I wouldn't be King for a hundred pounds,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
A face looked out, but it wasn't the King's.
"He's much too busy a-signing things,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
"Do you think the King knows all about me?"
"Sure to, dear, but it's time for tea,"
Says Alice.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Block City
What are you able to build with your blocks?
Castles and palaces, temples and docks.
Rain may keep raining, and others go roam,
But I can be happy and building at home.
Let the sofa be mountains, the carpet be sea,
There I'll establish a city for me:
A kirk and a mill and a palace beside,
And a harbor as well where my vessels may ride.
Great is the palace with pillar and wall,
A sort of a tower on top of it all,
And steps coming down in an orderly way
To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay.
This one is sailing and that one is moored:
Hark to the song of the sailors on board!
And see on the steps of my palace, the kings
Coming and going with presents and things!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Foreign Window
I saw you from a foreign window
Bearing down the sufferin road
You were carryin your burden
To the palace of the lord
To the palace of the lord
I spied you from a foreign window
When the lilacs were in bloom
And the sun shone through your window pane
To the place you kept your books
You were reading on your sofa
You were singin every prayer
That the masters had instilled in you
Since lord byron loved despair
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
Bridge:
And if you get it right this time
You dont have to come back again
And if you get it right this time
Theres no need to explain
I saw you from a foreign
Bearing down the sufferin road
You were carryin your burden
You were singing about rimbaud
I was going down to geneva
When the kingdom had been found
I was giving you protection
From the loneliness of the crowd
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
They were giving you religion
Breaking bread and drinking wine
And you laid out on the green hills
Just like when you were a child
I saw you from a foreign window
You were trying to find your way back home
You were carrying your defects
Sleeping on a pallet on the floor
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
Etc etc...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kings Of Slavery
Return to the ancient time of pain and suffering,
Slavery was the illness, so much accumulating.
We aborted our endeavours forever in this way,
Then our mornings and evenings seemed to say.
That may quieten the many who joined the slaughter,
The next day contained the war, from a daughter -
A princess of worth, the very satellite of the palace,
Making scares always like someone callous.
This time of pain went by, and disappeared,
It was the father, the king, who domineered.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Refusal
MINE is a palace fair to see,
All hung with gold and silver things,
It is more glorious than a king's,
And crownèd queens might envy me.
Ah, no, I will not let you in!
Stay rather at the gates and weep
For all the splendour that I keep,
The treasures that you cannot win.
While you desire and I refuse,
For both the palace still is here--
Its turrets gold, its silver gear
Are yours to wish for--mine to use.
But if I let you in, I know
The spell would break, the palace fade,
And we stand, trembling and afraid,
Lost in the dark where chill winds blow.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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I pretend I'm one of the royal family when I'm in a hotel and that the hotel belongs to me - it is a palace.
quote by Martin Short
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amilia
I am a lover and i am single,
I am a joker and i am single,
I am a writer and i am single,
I am a teacher and i am single,
Come closer to me to know who i am;
Amilia is your name to the world so sweet.
To the Red Palace,
To the White Plalace,
To the Blue Palace,
To the Black Palace,
Like fire and water;
To everything, there is a middle point.
What are your four best colours?
What are your four best foods?
What are your four best songs?
Give me an answer and,
I will tell you who you are.
Amilia is your name and,
You have a lot to learn;
Oh Amilia!
I never knew monkeys do write till i met one.
Like Mount Ararat where Noah's Ark landed,
Do extend my regards to your friend.
Life is like butterflies and rainbows,
Love is like summer and winter,
And hope is the dream of dreams!
But if poeple could see very well,
They will find beauty everywhere.
This message is like a witch's son to you,
This message is like a wizard's daugther to you,
But i am the Sailor who brings in food for many.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Like To Write An Epic
i like to write an epic
about a prince who went away to find
his destiny
who met his enemies
beasts and bad spirits
who slew them all
who found his own kingdom
on top of the tallest mountains
reaching the skies
who rode on a Pegasus
and swept away another Helen
there was this war for a thousand years
and there were betrayals
and losses and gains
and at the end
the tragedy happens
the epic is unfinished
all the while i will finish it
but then my friend
you fall short of time
at the happy ending
when the prince finally comes home
as a king
you are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Surprise in Japan - Tokyo Imperial Palace
Tokyo Imperial Palace gardens
a guardsman salutes me
like he would a VVIP
Tokyo Imperial Palace gardens
a guardsman extends me
a royal salute
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Show It At The Beach
Oh they won't let us show it at the beach no they won't let us show it at the beach
They think we're gonna grab it if it gets within our reach
And they won't let us show it at the beach
But you can show it in your parlor to most anyone you choose
You can show it at a party with your second shot of booze
You can show it on the corner wearin' overcoat and shoes
But they won't let us show it at the beach
No they won't let us show it at the beach friends
Ah they won't us show it at the beach
Oh they're sure we're gonna grab it if it gets within our reach
So they won't let us show it at the beach
But you can show it in the movies on the cineramic screen
You can show it in the most sophisticated magazine
You can show it while you're bouncing on the high school trampoline
But they won't let us show it at the beach
But if you've got a gun it's legal to display it on your hip
You can show your butcher knives to any interested kid
But if it's made for lovin' then you'd better keep it hid
And they won't let us show it at the beach
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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A rich queen and a poor king
The handsome threadbare man who struggled in a slum.
I don't know why I loved him and took him to my palace?
I gave an old king's name to bring him to our own society.
This beautiful witch-Queen dragged me to her palace
and given me an ugly name of a Lunatic.
My halcyon slum is a paradise.
The edge of the heavy crown pierced my head
and I never had a sound sleep
since I came to this hell.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Malaysiana - Quirky Hang Tuah Poem
Hang Tuah was
a fake loyalist
to friend, to king
if he was so
insistent on protocol
he should have turned
himself in
to the Sultan
instead of go hiding
Confucius was most
articulate about
absolute royalty
and loyalty
it means if the king
wants you dead
you would gladly do so
at his knees
hang tuah was a quack
if he was so insistent
of killing best friend jebat
who stood up for him
he should have taken
a hard look at his
own loyalty
running away in hiding
that too was punishable
by death by Malacca laws
but it was jebat who
had to take all
kris, blood, dejections
and the bowel churning
falsity of a great friend
and all for his
pure love and blind
loyalty - to a friend
who turned out
to be an opportunist
the greatest losers
first jebat, second
the sultan
the way he was
tuah probably did
flirt with the palace girl
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Gypsies In The Palace
Gypsies in the palace
By: jimmy buffett, glenn frey, will jennings
1985
"i have heard that some of the great parties of all times have
Been at my house - when i wasn't there."
-- spoken:
"in days of old, when knights were bold,
And journeyed from their castles,
Trusty men were left behind,
Knights needed not the hassles.
They helped themselves to pig and peach,
And drank from king's own chalice.
Oh, it was a stirring sight
These gypsies in the palace."
"and some things never change. hit it boys!"
So long boss, knock 'em dead, don't worry 'bout a thing
Wish that we could come along, we'd love to hear you sing
Limo's here, your bags are packed, the list is by the phone
Me and snake will watch your place and treat it like our own
Look at all this liquor
Look at all this food
It's only gonna go to waste
We're not really being rude
But the good stuff's in his closet, i swear he wouldn't mind
Hell we'll just shoot the lock off, i do it all the time
We're gypsies in the palace, he's left us here alone
The order of the sleepless knights will now assume the throne
We ain't got no money, we ain't got no right
But we're gypsies in the palace, we got it all tonight
There's damsels in distress out there and we got all this beer
We'll free them from their condos and bring 'em over here
We'll show them his gold records
We'll play his music loud
We'll party just like bubba does
We'll do the old man proud
We're gypsies in the palace, there ain't no wrong or right
We're gypsies in the palace, and a' goin' wild tonight
He's the greatest guy to work for, man he's really cool
Hey snake this party's gettin' dull, throw someone in the pool
Hey let's all take our clothes off and form a conga line
Watch out for that broken glass, hey snake we need more wine
We're gypsies in the palace, there ain't no wrong or right
We're gypsies in the palace, and we're raisin' hell tonight
Hey
Oh hi there boss, what's goin' on
You say you're coming when?
I'll send snake out to pick you up tomorrow night at ten, okay!
Everybody outta here, this joint is closin' down
We gotta find someone to clean this up, he's comin' back to town
Hi there boss we waxed your cars, we raked and mowed your lawn
We couldn't find enough to do in the short time you were gone
Man it sure is peaceful here, you've really got it all
If you ever hit the road again, give me and snake a call
We're gypsies in the palace, he's left us here alone
The order of the sleepless knights will now assume the throne
We ain't got no money, we ain't got no right
But we're gypsies in the palace, we got it all tonight
-- spoken:
"hey, jimmy, it's glenn"
"glenn, how ya doin'?"
"fine man, i'm goin' on the road.
Do you know anybody who could possibly house-sit for me?"
"i got these two great guys that look after my place.
Man, they're the best!"
- notes:
Background vocals: jimmy buffett, glenn frey, timothy b. schmit
Featuring mark o'connor on fiddle
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Ballad
In a costly palace Youth goes clad in gold;
In a wretched workhouse Age's limbs are cold:
There they sit, the old men by a shivering fire,
Still close and closer cowering, warmth is their desire.
In a costly palace, when the brave gallants dine,
They have store of good venison, with old canary wine,
With singing and music to heighten the cheer;
Coarse bits, with grudging, are the pauper's best fare.
In a costly palace Youth is still carest
By a train of attendants which laugh at my young Lord's jest;
In a wretched workhouse the contrary prevails:
Does Age begin to prattle?-no man heark'neth to his tales.
In a costly palace if the child with a pin
Do but chance to prick a finger, straight the doctor is called in;
In a wretched workhouse men are left to perish
For want of proper cordials, which their old age might cherish.
In a costly palace Youth enjoys his lust;
In a wretched workhouse Age, in corners thrust,
Think upon the former days, when he was well to do,
Had children to stand by him, both friends and kinsmen too.
In a costly palace Youth his temples hides
With a new devised peruke that reaches to his sides;
In a wretched workhouse Age's crown is bare,
With a few thin locks just to fence out the cold air.
In peace, as in war, 'tis our young gallants' pride,
To walk, each one i' the streets, with a rapier by his side,
That none to do them injury may have pretence;
Wretched Age, in poverty, must brook offence.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Survivors And Inheritors
Caves, like palaces,
hotels, churches
(and shoes) ,
outlive their tenants.
Tigers came and filled the caves
with snarling and roaring.
After the atomic bomb fell on Hiroshima,
more than a hundred Japanese soldiers retreated here.
Most fell on their swords in accordance with custom,
grasping the hilts with both hands,
pulling and falling into an exploding sphere of pain.
The rest cut open their stomachs
and died more slowly, but just as surely.
Their flesh was eaten by tigers and dogs,
their bones mingled with those of prehistoric men
and the residue of earlier tiger feasts.
Thirty five years later, Buddhist monks came,
Japanese, Thai and Chinese,
and chanted mantras
for the salvation and reorientation
of the Japanese spirits,
who returned to Japan.
The earthly elements they left behind
were collected by the Japanese Embassy
(who also took the swords) .
The caves were cleaned.
The tigers stopped coming.
Like deserted Indian Temples,
the caves were left to monkeys,
who jabbered and squabbled
with the sounds of enraged chickens.
Dun, as a boy, came here with his friends,
when they were bored with fishing,
to fight the monkeys for their territory.
Now the worn limestone caverns
are empty, silent, echoing,
teeming with images in parallel worlds,
waiting for the next arrivals.
Tonight one old monkey
sits motionless.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Indirectly In The Despair Of Concealment
i always see to it
that i understand what a family is
when we went to a trip
we make the pact
inside the plane that moment when
we step upon the plastic floors of the tarmac
i have already seen the hint
we understand i repeat we always understand
when we were there at the saigon shopping complex
we too understand
the family segregates as one block
shields itself from our interference
we understand that
and so we too have to create our own path
go somewhere else
to the market to the park to the palace of the president
we must learn to enjoy things by ourselves
we are not really a family
but splinters of dreams
one must realize
to each his own no dependence
one makes a story
fabricates the rest of the characters
develops the plot
complicate matters and then
arrive at the resolution of the big conflict
finally i decide
a poem is better this way
intrepid, limpid, crisscross,
wanting to open but must only show the closed door
to reveal but only to arrive at the consensus
that it is better concealed
mouths silent, lips sealed
hands that dance in the sky enclosing the fingers
with the sun
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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‘He came unto His own, and His own received Him not’
As Christ the Lord was passing by,
He came, one night, to a cottage door.
He came, a poor man, to the poor;
He had no bed whereon to lie.
He asked in vain for a crust of bread,
Standing there in the frozen blast.
The door was locked and bolted fast.
‘Only a beggar!’ the poor man said.
Christ the Lord went further on,
Until He came to a palace gate.
There a king was keeping his state,
In every window the candles shone.
The king beheld Him out in the cold.
He left his guests in the banquet-hall.
He bade his servants tend them all.
‘I wait on a Guest I know of old.’
‘’Tis only a beggar-man!’ they said.
‘Yes,’ he said; ‘it is Christ the Lord.’
He spoke to Him a kindly word,
He gave Him wine and he gave Him bread.
Now Christ is Lord of Heaven and Hell,
And all the words of Christ are true.
He touched the cottage, and it grew;
He touched the palace, and it fell.
The poor man is become a king.
Never was man so sad as he.
Sorrow and Sin on the throne make three,
He has no joy in mortal thing.
But the sun streams in at the cottage door
That stands where once the palace stood.
And the workman, toiling to earn his food,
Was never a king before.
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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