Skip to main content

Hoi An: Teething

Page 1


Hội An TEETHING

Photography and Poetry by Freddy LP

Introduction

Every piece in this series was taken over the course of six days in the city of Hoi An and intended to capture Vietnam in its current state of change and growth as a developing economy, and to capture what its future may hold.

I hope you enjoy this series of work.

Tourist

A sense of wonder as I touch down, Warm greens and reds, Blue skies, tall mountains, winding rivers.

The musk of unknown ingredients chopped, diced and fried in a wok, Cheap dishes that enrich my soul, A food, that the locals don't think I can eat, but I can, and they cheer.

Lanterns for a festival of significant importance, A deep connection to a historical monument, An authentic conversation with a wise old man through his broken english.

A magnet for my fridge, An introspective walk, A word that means something specific and emotional that takes several words in English to communicate.

A laughable rip-off of a popular brand, A comedic mistranslation on a resturant menu, A fleeting yet moving glance between me, and a monkey.

An interesting yet inconsequential Difference between our McDonald's, A secret hidden just off the beaten path for me to enjoy, An abstract innocence and purity in a foreign child's eye.

A souvenir I can take home, That will sit on my desk, And remind me of my visit.

A final glance at the sights before I get in a taxi, A sense of fulfilments as I leave, And a themed bottle opener.

SICK DOGS

A sick dog limps

Across a crack in the concrete

Bones creak and pinch

His loose skin and raw meat

Blood in his teeth from his tail

He attacks the appendage restlessly

Puss-filled scabs split and fail

As his itch pesters on endlessly

A new way to harm born of neglect

Rotten carcass, left unfinished finds the needy

He rips and tears new meat, his last

When violence cannot take them

Sick dogs are passed to apathy.

Just

The city is stagnant in stills, stationary Content in the moment

Persistent in monotony

Painting complacency as stability

As it is just enough

But everytime I peer beyond the present Shadows still linger just sit a little shorter

The day remains awake for just a second longer

The wind carries elder leaves just a breath further And waves that crash land just a touch softer

The city is set in motion, moving Eyes on what's ahead Intent on improvement

Setting exceptions as the standard As it will be just enough.

Lights

The lights used to be further, higher, taller They made the world feel bigger

And us much smaller

But the lights of old, have dimmed and faded

Buried beneath stone, dirt

For we had found, created

Lights of new, sterile, strong

That shined where lights never had

And for never as long

But these new lights hurt, burn my aged old eyes as they are far past their term and it seems so am I

I too am redundant, soon to be buried

My use lost in my youth

My youth squandered in hurry

The lights that burn me guides souls unsquandered Who have no need for my lights

It is through theirs that they wander

My only request before I fade

Is not to see my lights once more

But to be reassured of the futures fate

Mine or not, lights will lead the way.

Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook