Spectrum of Glee

 

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

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.

For you

 

I have craved the taste of your skin
For what feels like centuries, and I am
The evolutionary urge of sunbeams permeating
Soul and brain and movement
I am human being, hungry for immortality

Your lovely body is my youth’s rite
I pace hungry for the cherishing of a lifetime
Your hot heart, nearly too precious to hold
How can I serve you better, my dear?
I have worked starving just to have you

By my side, for a few mortal years
And I am a puma on the barren of
The rough anonymity that separates our lives
I’ve been a hunter and a digital firebird
Just to get a few inches closer to your life
I have desired through life-plans of ambition

And I have been silent to the failures
That must be endure, just for a few moments of bliss
I have felt the light that rises in your smile
And in your delicate form, I have felt

The lessons of history and sacrifice
The language of aroma, the stuff of hope.

The First Year of Love is like Icing

Relationships are like private
Dyadic simulations, or gamification of
Skin and soul, heart in time

Somewhere someone is travelling
In your direction, maybe furiously lonely
Ready to fill your loneliness with love
And we exchange partners
Learning from each other

So serious of the rules and tribulations
But it’s natural to be monogamous
And it’s natural to separate, no point fretting

Perhaps it’s natural for some to love
The same gender, change genders, be polygamous
Through blizzards of emotions, deserts of lust
The heart loves to cross torrents
Dramas and recognize you as a friend

Reckless and beautiful are our needs
To relate, belong, be touched, finding like-minded
Companions in this desolate and tedious existence

But never forget that they are simulations, illusions
Myths we make to feel comfortable
And experiential methods of our own spirit
To educate us about the true reality of the universe
Or that part of her we were meant to experience

Relationships remain the core of human beauty
The customer experience of personal joy
The first year is like icing, then the cake

Begins to show through, too sugary
Or a sweet thing without the right occasion
I’ll wait for the fruit-salad, the encore
The idea to save the best for last.

Wish

Wish

I kiss thine eyes with my soul
With mystic empathy mine
But you do not look or see me!

Ah God! If I might once again
Feel the dreamy youth of feeling purely!
With identity projected, in wondrous joy!

The old-time longing for unity
It’s thrill is still in my cells
Like a circling memory of oneness

My whole heart leaps nearly to you
There, but you do not look or see me!
There is no method to convey sometimes
The inner possibility of energy
The old-time agony within my soul

The hush of alienation, loneliness
An eclectic talent for feeling separate
If only to magnify the unity-of-all-things
I kiss thine eyes with my private feast
A light blur stirs for thee from me

But you do not look, you do not see me!
And I was in my lonely light, with frenzy begging
For faces of the spring, for golden
Words spoken to me, as if I had
Thought poetry at the ocean side

For a lifetime of romantic depths
Without the shudder of youth
That passed so quickly, I am getting old.

Prolific

in fragile moments of time
there are these rumours of lust
between us, like dipping dusty shelves

with a naked smelling good book
suggestive that we validate each other
like a good story, or a whirled love-affair
there are sultry octaves sweating
between us, beneath the surface

a melody of aberrant kisses that
could swell the shady members
of our bodies like candles and the night

I’m not shy of your erotic tendencies
it’s all perfectly natural I’m sure
why my eyes veer towards your well-rounded
lotus shape, or how you flirt with me
without meaning to, on some level of appetite

of whims of girlish pride, it’s all
the wet whistles between us
the candy-marinated lullaby

and chocolate dreams for fools like us
who have nothing better to ponder
whose lives are glass figures of fragile
promises, swirling vows, eager amusements
youth still has her eyed locked on us I guess

a humid culmination to the loneliness
a rebellion to getting older, our bodies
make secret plans, primed to each other

like biology dipped with inner thirst
a revelation of the flesh and her
prolific ways, these physical polarities
the palpable prophecy of pleasure
that yearns like an unspoken cross-examination.

Photo Courtesy:

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Suffuse-486295442

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Michelle-III-486300403

Her Veils are White as Snow

My resurrection is a sensitive process
Like a bee-line of women, as symbols
Of the remuneration of my destiny
I want their food, their shelter

Their fragrance, not as significant
Of what I might hoard, or plunder
But of a banquet of trade
That I might have something enriching to offer

O blasphemy is love’s ecstatic fire
I am reckless with the reality of it
Smoothing and apple-green
What in their skin could possibly redeem me?

It’s an illusion of the material world
I’m sure of it, flowers on the water
Lotus bud in the air, I stare past mirrors & windows
Back to nature, back to God

I am clothed in sensual clothing
My resurrection is a taboo exploration
Like a woman’s body that has never been fondled properly.

Photography Credits: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Youthful-heart-373919675

Spring Fever

All her flesh is like a mouth
A caress of summer, nude skin
A flash of promise in quick moving bodies

A skirt in the wind, it’s all I can see
All her heart is like a living waist
Hips and buttocks that rock, left to right

Right to left, my life in a nutshell
The hopelessly tangled instincts
All her smiles are the most vibrant joys!

I own nothing in her trembling gaze
I am consumed by private obsession
When the bride of her sweetness is close

All her flesh is like a mouth
With lips that other strangers will travel
With breasts that flower like the buds
Roots of art where my passion will die.