About Solitude and Infatuation


Screen Shot 04-05-15 at 08.20 PMScreen Shot 04-05-15 at 08.26 PMBeing Alone Does Not Make You Crazy, It Reminds You Of Who You Are. - E.J. Koh

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Being alone with Eun Ji

I’m five down dead in red

I bend where the sun hits

I shift to gain access

To the bursting shadows

Voyeuristic to your ghosts

The rains is like a lullaby

But the blood of a writer

Eun Ji, I’m a secret manifestation

 

Of your psyche, both silent

And wounded in existence

Both everything and nothing

For your eternity of being

And there is a vague red trail

Leading from my life to yours

It’s like an avalanche of nostalgia

When you shudder I feel light-headed

In this way, I have swallowed

The memories of someone else

And I would gladly color your body

But after all those dreams of dying

We learned to love dying

In each other’s arms, disguised

Like lonely vehicles to murder the world

Our solitude didn’t make us crazy

It just reminded us who we were

And for that I am lonely:

Loneliness is not being alone

It’s to love another’s soul

To no avail, but I have time

Time to tangle myself into

The spiral veins of your inner voice

Maybe the only voice

That can reach me now

And I write about you because

I’m scared of writing, however

I’m more scared of not writing

Eun ji, in my mind you have become a poem

But I cannot stop writing or speaking

Because you amplify the my inner Asian-ness

And the zero-point of all poetic intent in me.

To Black Swan Job Applicants IV


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To Black Swan Job Applicants IV

Without writing, life would be a mistake
So here’s to crazy ones
Misfits, rebels, troublemakers, anarchists
Who invariable make the best poets

And sometimes turn into novelists
If they put the time in
Because the people who are crazy
Enough to think they can change

The world are the ones that do
Coding, writing, copyrighting
Everybody is a genius
But an innovator is someone

Able to sacrifice ordinary things
To dedicate themselves to a cause
A craft, a subject, to be a specialist
Writers are specialized dreamers

Easier to tire of reality than books
So many worlds, strangely we become
What we pretend to be, so try
To be a writer for a year, you might

Surprise yourself with dark things
Certain dark things are to be loved
In secret, in the shadows of your soul
Write from that place, and have experiences

That exhaust the travels of several lives
Everyone takes around their portable magic
Might as well put it down into a book
For if we are to become insane, may as
Well write first between intervals of sanity
It’s a clerical alchemy that was my favourite
Time of my life, writing alone was like
Visiting a wild place where I was the first visitor.

Looking outside of myself


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Looking outside of myself

– Based on a blog post of EJ Koh

I live a bit through you
Like a social media update of a poet
You’ve taken into your heart

It’s like an obsession I treat very kindly
I’m almost conditioned to be impatient
Seven second attention span did you say?

How to be intelligent, talented in patient?
While being online, it’s not possible
You have to sometimes pull the plug

On a Sunday or, for the rest of your life
Instead of taking the time to
Learn, perfect my craft, study
I want to exercise my craft now
Without years of sacrifice and hard work

Call it art as soon as it leaves my mouth
Can you imagine a poem lyrical just read-made?
A novel just so without months of editing?
It’s the desperation to survive
Without the genius factor, with only me

To read my work, your work, and all
The bad writing getting awards these days
I just don’t get it, I blame the viral speed
Of the internet, and the MFA programs
But each year passes without incident

I don’t think I’m that one in a million
Where are the writer’s hard-won readers?
Or are we just writing for ourselves in the end?