A place for a poem.

Is this the future?

Is this the past?

It’s bedlam! It’s chaos!

How did they not just crash?

Every inch has a purpose,

Nothing lays bare.

Things all around you,

Dust in the air.

Working together,

To avoid a collision.

Honking horns,

Just a blurred vision.

Friendly wise faces,

Speak works I can’t understand.

Their eyes tell a story,

Hard workers, by hand.

Aromas and colours,

Fill my senses, so vast.

Such beauty,

Such madness,

Along these Labyrinth like paths.

So much fruit to be sold,

In a fashion so bold,

What’s going on…

Is that a chicken crossing the road?

Weird and wonderful,

Night and day

And that’s just one corner

But my lord, the Bay!

Tropical islands,

Green, turquoise and blue.

Just a stones throw away,

From the chaos, it’s true.

A place like no other,

A world of its own.

Babies on motorbikes

In between their grown.

But it fits like a jigsaw,

This chaos, it works!

And it don’t take long

To figure out all its quirks.

Is this the future?

Is it the past?

This bedlam and chaos…

What is this place man?

My friend, let me tell you,

It’s Vietnam 🇻🇳