Soni’s Hour to Rejoice


“I must admit, I sometimes find it useful in my practice to delineate the various typologies of personality as cats and hens and ducks and swans and so forth.” – Women Who Run with the Wolves

son

Family, love, adventure
My skin breathes sunlight
Like women, who run with the wolves!
My heart beats stardust

Turned inside out with love
For creation, and our journeys
We who spell sacred syllables
With our blazing thrilled minds

And identity cascades in gratitude
With optimism, shining as the sun
A golden halo of all we have become
Family, love, adventure

More than thanks giving
My heart bleeds promise
With a hunger I cannot contain
For bliss, rapture, synthesis

Where we are the Earth
Where we came from, the lineage
Of so much destiny compacted
Each week is an ancestor’s mood

Each whim, a thread of Gaia’s moon
My soul contains all cosmic ingredients
Laughter, seduction, poetry
We’re like lost gifts completing each other

Where it’s not about being whole or strong
Or simply the attainment of goals
Security is following our intended course
And who’s to say what failures

Can teach us the most about ourselves
Family, love and adventure
I bounce like a nomad through the years
A boundless unfurling of miracles

A scriptive love of my own fate
The lyrics I was born to sing
If only at the center of my loving
My ability to create hope in life
And my duty to serve a higher truth.

Blooming into Native Serendipity


(Lost in Gaia)

gaia

I love you for not knowing me
But echoing me, like some stranger’s lost invincibility
I love you for your kindness
In the same sorrows we have all fled

Like youth’s retreating eyebrows
Like songs we used to sing
I love you for your no tomorrows
For your doomsday moods and emotive vitality

For your hairy shadows, and Costa Rican reunions
I followed how the healers move the mystics
Just today, as if it was a story I was familiar with
I love you for being in love and falling

In love with something bigger than yourself
I love you for your storytelling and your
Witnessing, the quiet birth of the apocalypse
Of every blue moment entombed in rapture and in awe

I was captivated by your Venusian fertility of art
And poetry and the musing of eternal questions
I love you for loving deeper in sweeter tones
Than I found use in doing, after doppelganger loneliness

And Aspergian humility, I played in shadows
I love you for not being there, when the divine stood on
Inside of me like a flame always glowing
I love you for your absence, for being

Especially preoccupied with your own drama
For your personal story of mirroring and copying
The feelings we all had all long, they still seemed
More blessed in your company

Somehow more vivid on your face
In your essays up the Western coast
Entwined and enshrined, I love you for the book of poems
You told the ocean you’d share with the world
I’m still waiting for my copy, by the way.

What BAE really Stands For


(before anyone else) = BAE

mystic_i_by_eirian_stock

Mni Wiconi

Your art is my art
On a sea of dreams
On the petal of a flower
Seen before through many times

History repeats all mystics
Forests rejoice in their coming
Your art is not about how many people
Enjoy your work, it’s about

Your heart on the display of discovery
At the beck and call of
Some secret of your spirit
At the mercy of some

Deeper feeling than you cannot contain
That buds from the silence
And gives in to the melody
Behind the vibration of everything

There’s no trading honesty in this world
Our anxiety and vulnerability show enough
On our skin, we cannot hide it
That’s why, your art is my art

There’s no homepage for holistic healing
It’s born from our journey and communion
With each other, all seekers
I can’t seem to master the art of timing

To be able to find you at the right moment
The years and decades will go by
And I’ll still remember you at twenty-four
The way your hair flew to sunsets

And the moist neediness in your speech
It was in late Autumn when you went west
Where I dug up a piece of your wildlife heart
But you had already flown
Like a swan into the night

And not even my eyes that had bathed in your sunshine
For a spiritual moment could find you
Through that rush of ginger and turmeric after-taste
Like incense, you had escaped all definition
Though the impression struck me as something subtle

The leftover from a life left behind
Of meditation or even caring about chakras
Through still I can say, “your art is my art”

Water of life, tears of loving
To wash the dust of daily living
From our souls, where we were adopted
And where we departed our most beloved ones.

If vision was the art of seeing
The goodness in others that was invisible to others
I imagined you could see right into me
And it didn’t matter you were miles away

Love of beauty was a taste
And the creation of art was a kind
And our art sometimes protected
Sometimes procrastinated with our mistakes
Those were the feelings we treasured the most, in fact
You always had him, before anyone else.

The End of Desire 2.


desire-sunset

It’s clever not to desire, isn’t it my friend?
Our worldly duties no longer
Feel weighted like fate, like we once felt
Tied to roles and roses and houses

Let’s not follow authority or impulse
But find the listening actions
The lifestyle that doesn’t inhibit

The world-soul to act through us
We were never going to be anything
But the destiny we had consented to live
The smiles and misfortunes

They were all intended
And in our grace and simplicity
We found a kind of poise to

Succumb to who we were, like sheaths and bodies
That we knew we would outgrow
To be attracted to this or that seems
Only to obey some instinct of nature

That is not false, only artificial
Desire wasn’t the bar, but it was superficial
It wasn’t the kind of skill that led us

To revelation, only repetition
Revelation wasn’t only to repeat
But to learn to be a new person.

The Wonder 1.


tao-of-naturetao-of-nature

Though the principle is faint
The heart craves that purity
The Way is silent, she call us
The Love, it cannot be named it is not human
Heaven and Earth, are not what they seem
The mystic feels behind everything
Forms are but gorgeous biology and its creation
Poverty and simplicity are too real
Many creatures learn to meditate
In their own way, at their right time
Through the principle is faint
It is there, the unity that draws all to its center
Bring the first big bang of growth
Where galaxies spin out to the reaches
The soul still longs for something
That cannot be felt by the senses alone
Mystery on mystery but always near
Far and subtle, but so intimate
Peaceful and perfect, yet the missing element
The spirit’s search beckons after
All familiar failures and all brief success
It’s what comes after and before
It’s what believes not in belief but questioning.

The Chant Goes On


budda__s_birth_ceremony_by_kira_san14

What you love, you become
The dream of being is identity
What you feel, you attract
With the whisper of the cosmos

Always around you nurturing time
What you imagine, you create
In the Tao of sense, there’s only the future
A living universe intersecting

With every part of you, a thousand
Times per second, you are energy
Happiness does not depend on circumstance
It is a gift of perspective

There is no path to happiness
No escape into pleasure
No particular opposite of suffering
The experience is paramount and important

What you love, you will become
So learn to love the highest and truest
Of what you are, let your love encompass
The whole world, so you will not be small
Or live smally for yourself, and be miserable.

Sudden flowers lapse


the_secret_villages_by_inebriantia-d5j02fd

Sweet one, I’m so foreign to your luxury
I have no interest in champagne
I’d much rather an outstretched soul
The speck of birds in a silence of intimacy
I’m quiet like that, in awe of the little things

I’m the initial letters of lost fingerprints
A cherished voice that can disappear
As soon as I came, free in the watery prismatic white-and-blue

While I’m filled with glowing tributes
I’d rather live a lonely maturity today
Than always hoping for solace in the long journey
A bullet of delight, in the middle of the night
Nature’s beauty spilt in Korean-Portuguese

I know the flower’s life, the ocean’s beauty
The blue, to blue-green to olive set of a woman
There’s no margin for error in the feminine mystique

The years of mating, the search for experience
And it hurt to feel your singing flamencos go
Your wet destiny of the rumor of the sky’s thousand lips
Reflected in your bottomless feelings and charms
But with time, salt and whispers, I’ll forget you

Savaged by the carnivorous impulse in my hope
Where thirst is never enough, and in the calculation of time
I’m not immune to the fragrance of the distant pollen
That beckons me indignantly across the fields

Sweet one, I have no energy for anything but
The sudden flower of reciprocity.

Words from the Ocean


DIGITAL CAMERA

If a few drops of the ocean can
Reminds us where we come from
If a few drops of the ocean

Can make Mars home again
Hae.mi, there’s beauty more than skin-deep
More than spark and chemistry

There’s elemental wonder in
The way the waves move together
They are made of the same stuff

Like how human beings are 99.9% the same
If a few drops of the ocean can
Cleanse us, then when it rains

We have to remember, not to be afraid
Of getting wet, it’s how the wind moves
How time walks, in moisture

Tears that draw our worlds apart
Hope that sets our records straight
Faith that wounds us with idealism

Trust that pains us with her betrayals
Thirst that aches in us for each other
The ocean’s beauty can not fade, but we will

Being in the ocean by myself, was
What being a poet meant to me, writing
To nobody in particular, but wishing for a muse

Hae.mi, how many times in a life
Does the sailor fathom your depths?
How many times a year, do fishermen
Ask you for a look inside your heart.

Little Stars in Water


 

sailing_through_the_stars_by_gilad

Look into the sea, Hae.mi
Do you see yourself reflected there?
All the beauty of the world

The shores and the stars are silently praying
There is a wide open ocean
In your heart, with waves to play

As the seasons of our lives part
With bounty and prosperity
Like how your son asks questions

Vigilant of spaces in the dark
You are the dark unknown of winter
Where everything is lost in the journey

You are the freedom of childhood, reborn
You are the fragrance of salt in a world
Dry and barren, you are epiphanies of

Art, in a world of cities and riots
Beauty, in a world of so much laughter
Water, in a world of timeless thirst

Hae.mi, the way you look at your son
Is the miracle of life for me
The silence and the sand
That encircles the world with a smile

And for that, I have only calm gratitude
Well-wishing, a treasure chest of goodwill
And tears salty like the biggest ocean
A universe so pregnant with love.

Say Hey Ocean Storm


girl_and_the_ocean_by_alexandrasophie-d6iux11

Ocean there is no battle but love
The search for love, and fight for love
So when I wonder at your beauty and innocence
I cannot sustain myself on salty water alone

Though I be by you, come from you, watch you
It’s rare that you let the sunset down, into you
And I like it when it rains on you, Hae.mi
It’s “okay” to be like a storm

Chasing the horizons, I know how wild you are
I know your feelings on humanity, your need
To discover further facets of creation’s diversity
Ocean, there is not battle here

I am like the moon reflecting the tides
I pull you down to your naked rush
Until your luminosity is reflected in me
And there I don’t need to find you anymore

Since you will live on in me, like a beautiful nest
Of experience, nothing like experience,
The ocean’s beauty does that, it impresses with
Lessons in humanity, precision of passage to freedom.

On the Flight of Desire


an_undisclosed_desire_by_a2star-d5jwjvd

We are organs of each other, feathers of tomorrow
We share genes like hairs of our forever
Mutating to the timing of us

It’s not choice, it’s attraction
It’s a thrill of fantasy caressing reality
Hae.mi has a smile, I know it without knowing it

When she wants to repeat a moment
That felt like a bit of forever
Lost in the joy of now, a murmur

That’s all it took, all it takes, sometimes
When we look into the skies, we know
Nothing lasts forever, and it’s good

We are organs of time, breathing colors
Exploring the senses of beyond senses
And rejoining in the emotion of immortality

Hae.mi had that shaman side, she’d say the most
Philosophical things, at the oddest times
A bit like her son, he played games with destiny

We are silver fishes, that don’t swim but fly
It’s not choice, it’s attention
We attain the repetition of the essential things

We are delivered into silence this way
With the feeling of tomorrow
Being something we can’t live without.

Angels in Water


OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Climbing clouds down to their source
I stumbled into Hae.mi in the Himalayas
She winked at me before we got to the tip

Of the Asian pacific rim of trust
It didn’t take long to know her wetness
The liquid laugh and sighs of freedom

Discovery was not what it once was
But the breezy evening of everything together
The density and timing of our moving lives

That pulls the knots out of their ruts
As warmth spills in-between the skin
That are the neurotransmitters of our insight

The weaving of consciousness and body’s self
And genes that got us this far, instinct
Where the azure brilliance of thirst no longer
Obeying the salt of hope, but thunder
And an inkling for lightning in the pools

Where mothers of pearl are in our blood
And our lips are the roots of talking and energy
That we pass around like stories of how to float
In an ocean of so much beauty, we sometimes forget
How and why we met, thousands of years ago

And why familiarity never dulled, how we moved
Together underwater, properly, in airy fields of dream.

An Ocean of Stars


vein_of_stars_by_sa_nick86-d953b2r

The ocean is a great intelligence,
It’s feminine, wide and free
An earth-soul shelter for our freedom
So when we reincarnate, we have something

To go by, stars in the milky way
Our galaxy of sensitive pulsating, Oh Hae.mi
I feel the stars calling me by my name

Si-in sees the ocean’s beauty
Si-in reads the woman’s magic
Si-in feels the shores wealth

The ocean has led me on into the Earth
I have no time to be unhappy
No time to say the sky meets the ocean

At some point, Hae.mi kisses the horizons
But that is not my job, I write
You course in my blood, my blood of the ocean

Shadow dancer, and strange, Si-in leaves into the inside
Without a care for convention, softly entranced
To the rhythm of her voice, that’s kindness

On the lulling roof of waves, below the
Throng of moonlight, that’s peace
A freedom of stars reflected on water

For so many miles in the half-dark
That’s creation right there, Si-in knows
Hae.me, our legend has a brightness

We’ve made stories between the waves
We must not lose faith in humanity
Humanity is like the sea, said Gandhi.

On nights such as these


 

screen-shot-11-09-16-at-01-25-am

 

Graceful one, I am thankful for your skill in celebration

I’ve lived through you in a few short days

More than I have myself have lived or loved

 

I who, can never be a Mother or a friend like you

Hae.mi, beloved and always, the dark sweaty leaf of time

Is thick with longing in me, I sleep only to dream of you

 

I fill my heart with gratitude, only to learn the lessons of your sweetness

In the flower and in the heart of people

There’s no color that truly fades away, only transforms

 

Graceful one, with open arms I have found some solace

Hae.mi, hospitality of warm wet tears of belonging

I never knew or owned, the long rains fall provoking my mortality

 

I’ve lived in thirsty hours watching you, like a piece of youth returned

I who, can never be a Mother of a friend like you

Hae.me, betwitched and so completely filled with the nectar

 

As I sleep in isolation, my consolation is your freedom

My tenderness, is mirrored in your independence and success

My joy, the sense that you have transcended dependency  in others

 

Autumn nights have taught me this, and your deep acceptance.

I have promises yet to fulfill as my heart blazes by the seashore

Hae.me, why do you stalk me as the rice fields stalk the harvest?

Spectrum of Glee


 

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Reality disintegrates the fantasies of yesterday

Memories like the lightning, never to be turned on again

Seasons change their gloves

 

 

Smiles become familiar, not losing depth

I run to you ceaselessly, in the night

Where I have no spare awareness of where I belong

 

 

I run to your embrace, where the gorgeous stained glass

Of superficial time is broken, Hae.mi, where the artists resides

There I look for you in the canvas, there I spy you in the kindergartens

 

 

Where with moon sheaths and inlets of dream, I embark

Upon care, repeated in the lost souls of nomads, misadventures, that

Questioning feeling, have we ever truly been loved?

 

 

There are no deep roots in this world, only blood bonds

And the sanctuary of shared mind and heart space

There on the buds of time, I found Hae.mi, pure and sublime

 

 

Seasons change their cubs

Smiles become grave, wrinkles shine

And hair glistens white, I run to you ceaselessly, as if you were the night

 

 

Where I enjoy last comforts of the weary world

Where I entrust my vulnerability, my longing

For you, is the path of dream, the brightness of the rogue

Hae.mi, where the pioneers find, the last diamonds of life.

Jowangsin Come Near Me


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I didn’t know Koreans had living Goddesses

It seemed strange to me, how hypnotic Korean sounded

Melded in a harmonics of prophecies, nothing felt

 

As divine as your laughter, Hae.mi, I succumbed to it

Making my heart panic in sweetness and with indecision

I no longer knew how to speak, but could only

 

Thumb your ears with heartbeats, blink with my eye-lashes

Upon your eye-lashes, like the velvet of holding hands

I dared not kiss you, as if wonder could kill my sense

 

Maidenhood, besides, you had no room for moistness

You had no desire for my warm hands to enfold you

You hunted, scavenged, made yourself one of the tribe

 

And seized me in a thousand places, all at once

Hae.mi, whispered nothings, and I believed her

Knowing she was the sap of Autumn’s bizarre chill

 

That feeling you get when you are paralyzed by beauty

Held down in a moment so intense, you cannot breathe

Your name is now oil poured out, my warming chest

 

Your gentleness was my last thrill, finally acceptance

Whose love would weep better than wine, I know

Hae.mi, you who sustain my taste for dripping delight.

White Horse in a Black Storm


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I am aroused by your happiness, he said

To the woman in the torn jeans greeting babies

On the northern most tip of hope, she sprang

 

 

To life, like a cat in motion beneath the yellow-combed leaves

It was an eventful day, where a lady might become President

But he could only feel the electric current

 

 

Like warm bread rising for Hae.mi, a flood of fascination

Turning exquisite costumes of Autumn, undressing them

In the mouth of faith, that can only taste one thing!

 

 

The ocean memory of hair dishevel, salty lips

I’m aroused by the way you walk, your addicting optimism

Your platonic truth, bursting through like liquid laughter

 

 

Breaking down barriers with charm, skipping over awkwardness

And burrying into the self-forgetfulness of intimacy

I’m so hungry for you, I’d let the white arrow run through me

 

 

As I prime the memory of your future with your own goodness

Silence prefers the passion of shadows today

The mischief of delight walking naked in your eyes.

Chasing Freedom


ancient-path

Here there is a road that’s just opened

With scarlet leaves from November

The womb is wandering, time is skewed

Into branches of alluring encounters

 

 

Time is invisible, but I can feel her warmth and her breath

Hae.mi’s pattern of spell-binding designs

Like a new layer of myth-making and story-telling

There will be no rendezvous this time, only words

 

 

That hang between silences as soft as their landing

Passages to another state, remedies for life’s fascination

Laughing, I would unbutton your otter coat

Pour you a drink in the morning of your drunkenness

 

 

To keep you safe from your own wilderness and wildness

The lovely insanity you keep usually guarded and in check

I don’t have the heart to let you go, while

I keep traces of the sun and your honest glow

 

 

Hae.mi, does the dewy light hear our noon-time prayers?

As in an airy shrine, where our ancestors breathed

Might we know how to touch our own freedom again!?

The Ghost Dancer


dancer

Sleep Hae.mi, to rest your pulsating care

Where tears are for the past

Taking on an unsuspecting universe

I’ll see you thrive in independence

 

Comely with the rows of maternal jewels

Cherished by friends, beloved to strangers

Rest Hae.mi, from the wonder of it all

Where change is as lullaby and a signal

 

Of all that is yet still to come

Where a woman knows her art

And the hospitality of her own heart

And how much to give, and how much to keep

 

Festive Hae.mi, forgetting to eat

In a manic row with destiny

Faery fingers, soft platonic mildness

You are budding now, out from the mists of Autumn

 

Industrious, not wandering, thinking in new words

Where we can afford neither peace, nor ignorance in our dreamy lives

Hae.mi, the wildness of care, how well I know thee

To organize the mess of serendipity

 

To feed the bright array of synchronicity

Where on the floor of a nude sauna in your mind

I am brought to life for a few poems

To witness the birth of new beauty

 

Where your life borders gold with studs of silver

And art and technical proficiency meet

In your fate at the feet of your most puissant destiny.

Avantgardists


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Triumphant, insatiable, adorable Hae.mi, I’m stupidly in awe

Of the flavors of your moods, each word, note, flower

Happy tear of motherhood, makes me realize

 

What’s really important, Avantgardists my beloveds,

Happiness is all that matters now, I love how women bloom

And blossom in their 30s, like Evangelists of heart-ache

 

And heroes of time, reincarnating all that’s left and good in humanity

It’s warm, like warm milk to the world’s wounds, Hae.mi,

The independent woman is a twilight of nature’s strength

 

That is an epiphany of all that was meant to be

Who nurture the most equal balance between

Work and play, optimism and endurance

 

As hardy as a woman, as eager as a child

As kind and patient as a teacher

Trained by motherhood to be brave.

Songs of yŏryu


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There was a coldness in your flesh

As if you had been jilted by an ex-husband

Betrayed and guarded like a mother

 

I knew martyrdom was like a dress

That they wore, beneath their frisky loveliness

As flowers and candles from yesterdays

 

Unperturbed by the golden thread of the future

That’s as warm and as insatiable as the youthful heart

Free and fiery and impulsive to the sudden core

 

Where time dripped and sprayed its mischief of unity

Into the pocket books of quotes and unsaid secrets

That were festive like surprises beneath our pillows

 

That made us suffer terribly from a sweet kind of insomnia

Those were the dragon moods of a hotness in the flesh

Hae.mi, felt it just like how the flowers appear on the Earth

 

Unbuttoned with a thousand colors for everyone

Generous to the pulse of life’s irregular magnitudes

That blurred one reality and the privacy of the next

 

Like a tantrum of secret need, a nest of sparks

Cluttered beneath all the hurry and all the wonder.

The simultaneous existence as grandmothers, mothers, and daughters


korean

I want to lift a woman from the sand

Where the sand was her bondage and perseverance

And I would be, as a man, bold and endearing

 

Holding her breath, she would wait for him

And I would be saving and saved, found and lost

I would bring Korean drama back to her source

For the good of the heart, thrill of the body

And lift her up to Nirvanic rays

 

And she would be bright as a Hae.mi of the ocean

Savage as a Hae.mi of the jungle gardens

Of Seoul, from whence she came

 

Calm with the footprints on the sand of the great loves

Where battle dreampt a human dream

Of love and fire, and sea-salt wounds

Imprinted on a heart, as fine and as tender

As the courage of dreams, and running wind.

City Limits


It has been some time since

I had been inspired, with dimples

And the juices of hope lit on fire

Like a karosine of kaleidoscopes

 

Rose petals stuck between my lips

It’s torture to live in the pen

When the heart forgets what it is to live

It has been long, Hae.mi, between sunsets

 

In the city of so much french-this-and-that

I may not discover love at the city’s limits

For I live a hermit in my own airy castles

I’ve got to write, like an unbearable bribery of hope

 

Where I am a thief, and you are the woman I most desire

Where foreign loans are paid in poems

Poems to the lost souls and coveted mothers

Hae.mi, it has been quiet a while

 

Since I was a third thief, by writing and by touch

The slipper dress of a fleeting caress

A see-through moment in shared secrecy

Where passion stalks on the invisible up and up.

Flowers that Hurt


flowers-that-hurt

Hae.mi, the tongue of my poetry is unraveled

I have no shame, only bliss, my petty traditions

Are meaning less now, I to the drug of the past am unhooked

 

In the skin of tomorrow’s reckless abandon

I flee, like a moth to the stars and impressive light

The woman’s wisdom that my manhood aches

 

My lucid dreaming has pillows full of your wisdom

In my heart’s burning thirst

I’ve been secretly writing your name: Hae.mi

 

With drops of what a princess is supposed to be like

Extravagantly mysterious and obscure, partially unattainable

The tongue of my muse is blushing, bright red

 

As wet behind my ears, I feel my pulse gallop

At the speed of your attentiveness and trembling.

 

Eternity is a structure of feelings


(alternative name: Flowers in December)

Like a frenzy of mischief, I to Hae.mi must succumb

For my bright tear-brimming eyes of surrender

I to her heart must roll in her winter-fire

Delivered into the anarchy of a maiden’s smile

Where temptation is not the blue clothes of destiny

But the starry ledge where together we knelt

In between time’s curves like serpents of yin-yang

Where I inquired of you how to taste the freedom, you simply said:

“It is what it is, and loves what it loves, time is the bearer of all gifts”

In the dark alley at daybreak I spied your naked feeling there

Where from your depths, your creative-spirit was bare

Like the untouched blue sky, or the morning’s glory

I was home for a moment, in seconds with you

And your voice soothed and aroused me instantly

And I was a long imprisoned poet of the people who knew nothing

But the power of a woman, and how she played with words.

All these unspoken words are left over Feelings


 

Hae.mi, I want the secret intensity of collusion

Not that I know what fiery touches are, I who have done without

The touch of the body or the needs of men

And if, my body becomes no longer mine

 

Would I pretend to blame a muse I know so well

From the darkness of time, where someone calls me

Surely she has no wings, only words to say that I am scoundrel or throng

And I, faltering through the calls of art

 

Yearn not for unity, but for intensity’s brightest wick

Where loving is for the mind, and not the senses to burn

Hae.mi, what I have become that I require not

The agony of the heart to feel alive

 

Or an army of the loins to feel as if I should possess

I am not that kind of lover, anyways

Only the poet’s unseen hand, and the touch of the eyes

Sowing seeds of language, where I am blind

 

Hoping for friendship in the ambiguity between the genders

Gone is thus rippling radiant youth and her precocious lies

Through my curiosity is still as hungry as the dawns

That first looked jeweled upon thee, for divinity suckled

 

In the womb of all things valuable and lovely

Like a beautiful dream, where I witness you Hae.mi.

With great delight I sat in her shadow


(Alternative name: Shadow dancers)

Shadow dancer.jpg

I’m going to fathom the Korean psyche

Once and fully, for an era of emotional revelry

Hae.mi, deliver me from the ritual

 

 

Where discovery is the fertilizer

Of the red blood in the rawest apple

Your cheeks to string me with ornamental majesty

 

 

At the emergency of poetry

At the threshold of clairvoyance

There is an empathy between your breasts

 

 

Where time is dense and flighty in-between

The feathers of the long agonizing months

The short breathless cycles taking you back into the artistic source

 

 

There, poetry is an oxygen of embracing

Irrationally more than we can have

With more moistness of vision that we can comprehend

 

 

A last luxury of feeling something sublime

Hae.mi, the trees will sink their trunks deeper this winter

And I will stand in solitude among their tall haloes

 

 

Pregnant with what comes next in woman’s world

A lily of the valleys of time and hope.

I Close My Eyes


 

Let me kiss the softness of the night

Hae.mi, to which I’ll never know

I am the wildness in your purity

Though if I yearn for it too much, it will go

Into the music of misaligned intention

Into the pictures of faces unknown

Back to the masses of our stories

Our stories that are always wounded

You say I remind you of some unpleasantness

Can I not exalt and rejoice in each invisible encounter

For in my poverty of heart, I’m indebted to be haunted

I am very dark, but lovely, and loving – or else

An anonymous thief, ready to be caught

As a famous beggar for gifts of tenderness

I am the mystic honey in the simultaneous midnight

I am the lonely wolf of lost time, there’s no room for me

Between earthly lives and mothers and sons, I’ve been left

Abandoned by the vulnerable timid ones so cautious

There are silver scales in my snowy pupils

And I am your student, fine-arted through the fall

Let me embrace what I cannot possess, Hae.mi, I am dumbfounded

Though I indeed was once so innocent

There’s no closure until the time of new lovers

I know how sleek the seasons move

The souls of winter are my fondest friends

We’re all souls of mothers and pieces of each other.

The Little Dew


 

dew

Hae.mi, with the mood for loving kindness

I fall upon thee, as the last violin concerto

From some former life, which I cannot name

I copy the Korean scripture, as if it was known to me

Hae.mi, there is no life worth living, but the one

Not thine, not mine, but something else

Reminded from a child’s face, I linger there for long

Unable to remember the rapture then, of living

Of knowing with any certainty, anything

I am trapped between seasons aware of my own mortality

With a holy assembly of symbols, copied by time imperfectly

There’s no original art to this loneliness, only a kind of death

No God but a scattered Universe of galaxies, points of light

That tremble faster than I can move, Hae.mi, that’s it

You have surrounded me like water, like air, like perfume

And I am left with nothing but the memory of own imagination

That softly whispers without reply, in darkness, in the night

Where we cannot sleep and cannot name that thing between

The hours that are not tame, so sleek and pearly like the rain

Hae.mi, I’m lost to oracles and harmonics of melodic Korean

Without choice fruit, but the power to love in my own way.

Isn’t It

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Haemi’s heartbeat is listening to the Autumn dew Listening to breathing with the warm sun softly nestled On the branches of our healed hearts Where there’s no poverty in loving And no boredom in risking the gift of sharing Where … Continue reading