A little slam poem on re-defining what it means to be Thai.
When I was young, I never saw the difference
That apparently existed between yellow and white,
Of what you cannot control, the land in which you are born.
In a time where magazines and the media tells children who they are what they are who they should be
Looking at the chit chat rooms, I was supposed
To be “passive” and a “whore”
says the World Wide Web
And so every day, passing through the motions, wild commotion,
People looking me up an down, and I trying not to frown
Keep smiling, don’t be a clown.
Because you’re going to lose face.
Well I’m sorry. But there must be more than being passive,
cooking, cleaning, trying to remain hidden
More than writing hidden letters
at the people behind such hate
Hoping the torn words would float to the sky
More than flowers blossoming
Fed from silent tears
That drip to the ground
More than “I love you long time.”
More than sleepless nights, long flights
Cute accents, new heights,
I am not something you conquer.
To that girl who said, “In Indonesian the word ‘Thai’ means ‘shit'”
To the countless smirks, the ignorant jerks who still
Grab the nearest girl, all the girls the same
Because in their eyes every Thai is the same.
How dare you try to box me into a cage of characteristics,
Take a mirror, what do you see?
Because what you see is what I see in me.
The most basic truth is written in our DNA,
We are passions, dreams, hopes, ambitions, humans.
Change the world, why can’t we?
And so now the curtain closes,
“Liberty” and “freedom” in a world where nationalities need to be hidden
This is a battle of which you have begun.
Of the likes you have never seen, naught to none.
Let the fireworks light up the sky above,
Illuminate the world
We are Thai.
Copyrighted Yada Pruksachatkun
The Futurist 