Industrial Poet

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Eun Ji, maybe we were destined
To write for money, like marketers
Who were once artists, once beggars

For an audience, like people
Who once dreamed of selling books
But I’m nobody, if not a poet

And a poet has no vocation anymore
So I’m a poet on social media
So I’m growth-hacking products

At the bazaar of life, so that I might eat
And write poems in my spare time
Are you nobody, too?

Writing memoirs, about your roots,
I don’t have a biography to tell
The body grows outside of sunsets

And this mind grew outside of time
With undue significance I went starving
Across the years, waiting for a novel

Like some great love that never came
I just watched myself become
A writer, any kind of writer
For a dime, a dollar, for a dream.

On Choosing Higher Causes

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How a willing heart thus
Adds a feather to the heel
A rose petal to the thorns
And a cold drink to the road
It is not enough to journey

We must be as loving passengers
Sweeter than man’s profiting
Ready to pamper not our starved pride
Or comforts of vanity
Every man is a damn tool

But wisdom consists in choosing
Better masters, wider causes
More eloquent rules of service
I have seen the day and found

Ridiculous wild people that run
The margins and know nothing
Of attempting accomplishments
And happier I would be to live as them

And happier I would be to learn
How to be free, use software that
Enables me to find my gift.