Nattaproblem

My trip to the Dominican Republic is best described as a poem:

Asentimiento Primero (The first Settlement)

Westward expansion across crescent waves

Racing cannons spearing into new lands

Columbus’s hermano, Barthomew exclaims

“La Nueva Isabella! Affirming commands.

Three countries later and now it’s own

The Dominican Republic.

Palm trees, fruits and abundant seafood outflown

Distant countries serve their stick.

Cinnamon

Aromatic and healing it’s powers transcend

A dinner dish or treatment

To bring suffering to an end

Breathing in the sea air of the winds, content.

Punta Cana a name from the palms

Centuries later by prestige and oligarchy.

A practical title for the bustling charms

Hustle for hustle, merchants compete for the money.

Spring Breakers celebrating on catamarans

Failures or successes is anyone’s guess.

The effort to stay true to the blue strands

Lapping waves rocking their delirium; distress.

The gaze from a local and partying visitors

One simple coconut brings out their smiles

The party boat leaves the bay, carrying whistlers

Burdensome suppression of foreign wiles.

Speedboat crosses in front of a moored ship

History watches over the azure tropicana.

Old wooden oak from the nautical figurehead’s tip

Shredded into a bottle of mamajuana.

Six degrees of separation keep me questioning

How many people around me have something in common?

From my point of view, everyone is posturing,

Locals measuring up to visitors in forced abjuration.

~ Nattapon Jontom Abbett

I recommend any island in the Caribbean to my readers. The feeling is all quite similar. It’s a nice break from reality with a dose of history. Ciao.

Here are some more photos: