Yeah, let the rain come It will wash all the dissatisfaction Off my sun kissed browning skin It's another Saturday in Seoul Drinks are flowing Three so far Tic, tac, toe Or should I say Sangria, merlot, caipirinha I win, I'm alive... a living joy Steadily moving through the Silver subway while staring at hearts … Continue reading Soaked Saturday: Free Verse v1

They come glowing to the gates of the city,Armed with tenderness,Resolute to paradeBeneath the windows of the cold women,With their gifts warm on their shoulders. The women sit frigidly smiling in their frames,And their eyes are the eyes of Medusa.Who but lovers,Who but unslaked lovers may be starved so? There is one bird left in … Continue reading EP: The Lovers

Man of absolute physical equilibriumYou stand so straight on your legsEvery plank or clod you plant your feet onBecomes roots for those limbs Among the men you accrete to yourselfYou are more heavyAnd more lightForce being most equitably disposedIs easiest to lift from the groundSo at the same timeYour movementsUnassailableSavor of the airy-fairy of the … Continue reading EP: Sketch of a Man on a Platform

Humming brazenly are mysteries flowing through urban grasslands skipping over red paddle splashed waters molding ripples into hearts catching sadness with patterns seen before making you more confused about where to spout before cascading into oceans

Traveler, your footprintsare the only road, nothing else.Traveler, there is no road;you make your own path as you walk.As you walk, you make your own road,and when you look backyou see the pathyou will never travel again.Traveler, there is no road;only a ship's wake on the sea. By Antonio Machado Translated by Mary G. Berg … Continue reading EP: Traveler, your footprints

I wrote this on my aging phone: "I still want you; don't leave me" An old longing born from my love I messaged you a hard rock song: "I swear I'm not the devil, though you think I am" Sometimes that might not be true  There is plenty of evidence against it

I'm herdsman of a flock.The sheep are my thoughtsAnd my thoughts are all sensations.I think with my eyes and my earsAnd my hands and feetAnd nostrils and mouth. To think a flower is to see and smell it.To eat a fruit is to sense its savor. And that is why, when I feel sad,In a … Continue reading EP: The Herdsman