Amazing Thailand

By Willy Thorn

An introduction to all the first things you will encounter in the world’s most amazing place ... barefoot monks out on dawn alms rounds ... brilliantly-colored ancient spirit house shrines ... the art of (bad) Thai massage ... spicy saum tum papaya salad & alluring rice whiskey ... Thai women vs. Thai rainstorms ... what goes on in Thai Men’s rooms ... plus his H.M. King Rama IX ... & of course, the 711.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Willy Thorn
• Release date: Nov 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463263624

Willy Thorn

Willy Thorn is a communications expert & artistic renaissance man. He is a journalist & copywriter, teacher, author & artist.He has lived many places, beginning with Milwaukee & Rome & Minnesota & central Wisconsin. Among his other homes are Washington DC & Baltimore, Chicago & the Twin Cities, St. Francis South Dakota, the Bay Area & Shanghai. He currently lives & works in Bangkok.Thorn has a Masters Degree in Journalism & has spent time as a Capitol Hill reporter & wire editor, sports writer, political columnist & arts critic. Other media endeavors include public relations campaigns, magazine feature writing, ghostwritten biographies & time on the radio – as a DJ & on-air host, play-by-play sports announcer & music promoter.He has spent nearly a decade as a language specialist for Craft Worldwide & as a copywriter & creative for McCann Worldgroup. He currently works as senior copywriter at Quo Global branding agency in Bangkok.He has won awards at Cannes Lions & been recognized for sports writing & political columns, magazine features, theatre scripts, religious publications & photography.Thorn is also a photographer & classical oil painter, trained thru the Corcoran Gallery in Washington DC. His artistic c.v. includes photography gallery shows; sculpting in Mamallapuram, India; concrete statuary at Wat Xieng Mouane, in Luang Prabang, Laos; and flower petal mosaics in Cagli, Italy.He is a Buddhist meditation instructor; trained thru Thailand’s renowned Willpower Institute. And he was even the rare foreigner to complete the entire six month course in spoken & written Thai. He currently sits as an advisor on the institute’s English Foreign Language subcommittee – where he translates books, helps develop outreach programs & occasionally lectures.He is the author of more than 3o full-length books & plays & proudly notes a Master’s Degree from Marquette University & books in both Washington's Library of Congress & the Vatican Archives in Rome.His catalog is varied & he has written extensively about a number of subjects — including sports, politics, religion, Buddhist philosophy & Asian history & art. One of his largest endeavors was documenting & cataloguing several hundred temples in Bangkok, Ayutthaya, Yangon, Vientiane & Kuala Lumpur.His catalog is available thru the following distributors: Amazon // Apple iBooks // Android Aldiko // Barnes & Noble // Sony // & Smashwords.His Milwaukee-centric column of sports poetry & prose — 'Run of tha Mil' — can be found at Milticket.blogspot.com

Book preview

a thousand year procession

deep in the countryside

on road shoulders

run long

marching miles

in patient

stride

thankful the sun

is not yet

strong

down

long winding

country

roads

of golden sand

& red brown clay

past corals

& water buffalo

paddie fences

fish ponds

& gates

past farms fresh

with morning dew

& blanketed

with lush new green

down forest paths

near thickets thin

beneath trees

& alongside ravines

come paddling

in boats with oars

up to long wooden piers

thru floating markets

dock to dock

gliding strokes

& guiding

steers

barefoot

across ocean beaches

thru deep soft

seaside

sand

over traintracks

& wrought steel ties

& hard gravel

& wooden bands

thru winding

cluttered village streets

across worn

muddy puddle ruts

past simple

concrete & tin homes

& wooden slat

thatch & leaf huts

down tight alleys

with shops

pinned close

& old ramshackle

rustic sheds

past chickens

& clotheslines

in rows

with dogs

wandering on

ahead

past men up

before

morning light

fanning

the day’s first fires

to life

fresh blue wood smoke

smoldering;

loose children

& a wife

thru cities

past aunties

in gowns & slippers

with rollers

twisted

in their hair

& sleepy hustling

commuter

crowds

awake & moving

but barely

there

alongside vendors

on the curb

first arranging

market

wares

tables opened

& awnings tied

spreading blankets

& setting chairs

past stands stocked

with long & ready rows

of food packaged

in bags

& fruit stacked

in neat colored heaps

with fresh juice

& boiled eggs

thru slumbering

nightlife

districts

past fading ghosts

of last night’s

laughs

over plastic cups

& litter

& bottle caps

& shattered glass

on thru busy cityscapes

down soi alleys

driveways

& streets

gritty stone

dark stained

& rock hard

but cool & smooth

beneath bare feet

the look

long robes

run straight

down

to the feet

swaying

& flowing

with holds

& knots

pressed

crisp

& clean

& new day

fresh

orange

tapered

pleats

draped

smooth

& taut

bright orange

spun tightly

round

& round

twisted

like cigar

leaf

cocoons

envelope

& bodice

both

swaying

low

in loose

robe

plumes

thick belts

embrace

the hips

& waist

broad bands

of bright

color

stretched

wide

yellow

& orange

around

the core

with thick

cloth

knots

carefully

tied

heads

shaved bald

to shiny

smooth

gloss

eyebrows

nipped off

in sets

of two

maybe

a little

soft

bristle

down

growing back

round

the crown

anew

& carried

out front

in the hands

is a carved

decorative

bowl

with a metal plate

like a pan

as a cap

to cover

the hole

like a round

divining rod

the bowl

leads

& directs

the way

with engraved trim

& a wide mouth

& set with flower

bouquets

from door to door

each one by one

to each shop

& home

& workplace

they come to rest

& stand

stone

still

peer deep

inside

& stop

& wait

…

like fire in the morning

come solitary

drops

of flame

burning

bright

in glowing

shades

racing past

or slow

tracing

paths

swaying

ablaze

thru grey

landscapes

colors

fresh

as new

horizons

like the sun

conjours

as odes

magnificent

& brilliant hues

& radiant

majestic

tones

flashing

vibrant saffron

& orange

with fiery

yellow

trim

& rays

burgundy

bled

with sunset red

& fresh mustard

tanned

halfways

…

then the drops

of flame

split

in half

to fresh lit

duos

& bright

pairs

& break again

into small

sets

tripling

the color

in the air

then the fire

kindles

& ignites

& the streets fill

with hot

loose strays

& orange

sparks

whip

past

thru the air

on motos

back

the other

way

four flames

stand

waiting

side by side

as a pool

of orange

fire

forms

then come five

six seven

& more

igniting

the whole

street corner

a radiant wick

runs down

the street

one immense

stretching

molten

aisle

led

by the wise

& all

their years

in military

single

file

the youngest tail

back at the rear

like tiny

duckling

afterthoughts

shrinking

in size

as lines

file

by

to miniature

orange

drops

& spots

they uncap

their bowls

in long

rows

& spread

satchel mouths

out wide

emotionless

& stoic

throes

ready

to eat

at breakfast

time

— to be continued —

The first condition of understanding

a place is to smell it.

— Rudyard Kipling

Ascention BKK

Bangkok smells like chaos

& sometimes

like she’s on fire

a slow smolder

over odors

of Indra

& angel choirs

both royalty & poverty

buddhist saints

& sweet rot sin

hot flashy

global commerce

& tourist awe

& confusion

new fashion racks

& old train tracks

& street markets

crowded close

dry straw brooms

& dank alley gloom

& your grandma’s

pink handsoap

ancient attics

flooded basements

— together

at the same time

aromatic herbal

ointment balms

with lemon grass

& lime

barbershops

& cologne dollops

with shower-fresh

bodyspray

cigarettes

& crisp uniforms

hair gel

& aftershave

farm living

& laundry

drying

dtukdtuks

chickens

& Isan

factories spewing

industry

& doors

slow leaking

air con

splashing river spray

& monsoon rains

& still stagnant

brown black

khlongs

green vacant lots

baked

fresh & hot

the long list

goes on & on

& on

…

Bangkok smells like hot

& then hotter still

blazing days

& heat at night

hot noontime naps

in still hot shade

& hot times

up in hot heights

hot concrete

baking

all day long

beneath hot sun

like a lamp

hot asphalt

radiating

black

in hot nonsense

u-turn ramps

soft crumbling

windshield

wipers

& rubber

melting

in the sun

faded vinyl

& brittle tarps

& dry ropes

fraying unspun

simmered puddles

& trash heap

spills

stewing sewers

that overrun

khlong steam

vapors

rising unseen

that burn the nose

& tongue

fresh green growing

in cracks & seams

from each inch

of every plot

tropical

foliage

lush

overnite;

raw jungle

sprinting

up hot

Bangkok smells like water all around

& monsoon floods

down the block

& gutters thick

with puddle grit

& soggy soaked

shoes & socks

eaves that drip

& leaky

pipe lips

& heavy

granite

stone grates

floods

ankle deep

& too slick tiles

& wet black

square plates

of slate

bamboo stone pots

& water plants

& small darting

neon fish

fountains

arching

drenching

sprays

into cool pools

bleached

bluish

Bangkok smells beaten & rundown

like old wood

& newspaper

stacks

stained brick

plywood

& tired stone

& (re)recycled

rice sacks

run down

phone booths

with broken glass

sheet rock

& construction

dust

hot welded metal

just melted

cedar

humidor

& rust

repair shops

smeared

with oily

black

& hot

with loose

grinding sparks

off-color spills

flat tires

& wheels

& high-heaped

spare motor

parts

deep guttural

dtudtuk

grumbles

thick exhaust

clouds

& spewed

fumes

sweaty orange

moto taxi

vests

& diesel busses

coughing

blue

Bangkok don’t always smell so nice

like old farts

moist haze

& rot

or cheap cigars

melting plastic

like they say: hmen kranat

pollution

smoke

& traffic smog

high-heaped

garbage piles

with flies

internet café

nerd

pit funk

& wide

second-hand

shoe piles

indians

in pungent clusters

bombay-dank

raw-delhi kick

saunteen heels

& rotten

fruit peels

arab cologne

choking

the mix

disgusting

& dirty white men

patpong smut

& hot crotch

sweat

thick sleezy

spills

of tired filth

pink

& oozing

too much

sex

ripe backpacker

sour b.o.

& unwashed

tangled

notty dreads

over-worn shirts

& worse rank shorts

stale

& heavy

sweat-soaked

threads

limping one-eyed

three-legged

dogs

loose shit piles

wet mange

& fleas

cats with no tails

& huge bald spots

plus ammonia

from their pee

sudden wafts

of natural gas

wet feathers

& charred

burnt

hair

strange

exhaust mixed

sulphur

wisps

litter

blowing

here & there

soggy

sticky

salty

stinky

all in one

horrible

stack

rain-thickened

pungent

& sun-baked

dead rats

& roaches

on their back

Bangkok smells like busy food stalls

that simmer

bake

& grill

& roast

barbecues

bursting

en flambe

& griddles

spilling

white smoke

charcoal embers

stirred up

hot red

& propane flames

from gas tanks

cauldrons

that sprawl

& boil

& scald

& woks

tossing pad thai

clinks

fish sauce

& then

still more fish sauce

ginger

galangal

lemon grass

fresh sliced onions

& dried peppers

spoons

& fistfuls

flung in

en masse

oyster sauce

&