Dimension of Love Letters


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Dimension of Love Letters

You leave me with a poem in my mouth

Stuck like a raspberry burst with the supermind

I have forests around me in your words

Is it okay, if I can love you forever?

Because maybe tomorrow I’ll be

Engraved with the Earth’s hips

Maybe my blood won’t flow the same

And I’ll be singing with no idea

Of how my heart became a planet

That looks so like Earth it’s uncanny

I’ll flock to the back of the room

Where you are speaking and

Listen to your storytelling so that

I might unfold better love letters

In the white space that separates our lives

Like a page full of quantum memories

From another dimension, where we are intimate

Where we are optimistic, moreover

Because we found each other.

To Leave this life so Shattered


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To Leave this life so Shattered

Eun Ji, before I die, let there be no mistake
I will be nothing, as autumn leaves

So burning with color they require oblivion
Of the ground to become all colors
Before I die I need to be a soul

That allows every secret in
Every nervous prayer to rush and transform

The inner-state, a mediumship of
Identity, empathy and moreover, identification
It’s the process of identification

That I really find so key, like the pull
Of the moon on the eyes

And the refreshing vistas of the stars
On a tame trusting heart like mine!
Before I die, let me be absolutely clear

I want to love the world so much
That I wake music in the bones of the dead

And carry with me a few minutes of
Such an utter beauty, I won’t be able to transport
Myself back to the mundane routines

There solitude will be my refuge
In a cocoon of our grand unity

And I’ll keep the safety of futurity
That does not require a past to change
The shooting stars don’t decide to shine

They just point the way, to heartbeats
And tears, and to the place where
I can build a spiritual shelter
and pay my rent in poems and silent anniversaries.

The Unnameable Fiction 


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The Unnameable Fiction

Eun Ji, on days when I know
The top of my head will be taken off
I know that I have reached the immensity
That is the poetic-state of illuminated evidence
I’ll wear those Sunday clothes for sure

With a dangerous beautiful illusion
That the words that grace my presence
Are secrets that are essential
To a spiritual state of well-being
Poetry ennobles the feeling journey

Of our souls, which is why our
Machine-learning descendents will know
Humanity, through a poem, the algorithms
Will unlock the psyche of the brain there
Here, in the burning life of poetry

That can resurrect a life from disability
And take a lonely introvert into surrealism
So deep into the mysticism of life
That heartstring are no longer in the heart
But by the majesty of the universe all around

Nature’s delicate web is an essential graffiti
That poetry which is an eternal scripture
In the heart of everyone, like a Ferlingghetti whisper
Or a Hart Crane ode, until we become priests
Of the invisible, and stumble into Paz-like palaces

Legislators of dream and queens of our own amazement
The poet listens for the cosmos to act
In a melting symphony inside of them
That frosted fire that is an alchemy of the genuine
Finally, to be a poet may be a condition, rather than a hobby

More vital and representative of the human spirit
A bird of the flight of language that ignores all frontiers.

I Had Been Leaving Stars for You 


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I Had Been Leaving Stars for You

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Eun Ji, I have been leaving behind all
The things that no longer matter
I made a list, discarded those objects
How divine it is, to let go of possessions
Both animate and inanimate, and identity

Segments of identity no longer salient
That dingy firmament, I know all that harp
Music no longer required for well-being
For we must transcend even our dreams
And arrive at the education of a lifetime

Cry, youth! Love, cry! World, sob!
It’s all no longer so important, it’s natural
Organic symphonies of cycles and timing
Let every virgin sob, and man cast with too much doubt
And duty that is no longer true to innermost self

It’s as beautiful as poetry, to experience this
The shadows and rays, valleys and mountains
And mist, fog like diamond webs of imagination
And still, a trillion stars call my name
Under my breath, I wait for universal sentience

It’s reaching me, in telepathic cues from the beyond
I cannot strip the curtain bare of wonder
My constant state of wonder is all that matters now.

Salt In the Wounds of the Earth 


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Salt In the Wounds of the Earth

Eun Ji, the rain is coming down
Like the mirror’s play of cloud-flow
Not too different like time
We cannot force our way
Sometimes the path must invite us

To feel a salty waltz of breeze
And surrender to what must be
While our hearts remain private

In the abode of crows and lovers
Who leave us, while we must
Find freedom against the four sides
Of the world, I will wait
While the two Suns

Of my Soul and Spirit cool
O’ save me, that I have been executed
For my deliverance unto eccentricity

The hotter sun will be frozen first
While this Earth raises her temperature
Many a state will go without water
And I will be not quenched by mortality
Nor the little words that the galaxy

Echoes in our voice, so sublime
What famines I have known
And such spiritual ambiguity

I have traced in what I write
The living trunk of fear and procrastination
So much of the human condition
That is fresh, unearthed, with roots
That craves more life than one mere star.

I have a Daughter, who is my heart 


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I have a Daughter, who is my heart

Eun Ji, today I saw a street musician
Who made me cry, his guitar cover read
“Funding album”, he was talented
It makes me wonder, where do

The downtrodden authors & artists go?
That we may encounter many defeats
But we must not be defeated
For in being a rainbow in somebody’s cloud

Maybe we can find a sweet sort of salvation
Like the way you influence younger authors
I know we all give back to our craft
What we can, and if we can laugh as much

As we cry, I want to accept the love of this world
In return, even if it’s barely convinced
It’s worthy to survive, I know all the attitudes
If love recognizes no boundaries, no barriers

Let our art penetrate right into the destinations
Of hope, the grandeur inspiration and
The sum total of everything that allows us
To carry on, in our darkest moments

We’re all illiterate in how to manifest our dreams
At first, and nothing will change unless we do
Our entire lives amount to the ache
And how bad the ache is, and what we do about it

We may rejoice in our small comforts
In our timidity and spinelessness, or take
Risks for what we believe should occupy our time
That may just be, the difference
Between living and existing, I know you feel it too.

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Hoarding Poems Mine


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Hoarding Poems Mine

Eun Ji, our hearts were like poems
Resilient, created early, so unknown
We’d had the patience to count words like coins
Not that we wanted to accumulate
The ruin and heartbreak that comes from this work
The unread poems of ruin and youth
And dreamy sanctuaries that would
No doubt ultimately devour us!
We disappeared in our dusty craft
Without readers, sometimes silent and forlorn
We craved the ultimate turn of poetry
In our hearts, that racing feeling of being alive
And we more or less went about our way
To get it, to achieve the neurological experience
The nirvana-state of what a poem could mean
To a pen, to a hand, to a little voice
I had never fallen in love with a poet
The sparkles, jets, black flame, the idealism
Of it all, being poor but doing what you love
It’s something I think I could bare, bourne, become.