Ctrl + Z

The evanescent, erasable
Disposable brushes of the pencil.
Words written and rewritten.
Maybe we invented it from our deepest desire
Of erasing, control-zeeing, our misdeeds
And rewriting them anew.
The old Romantic dream
Of perfecting every word and sentence.
If only life, too, had an eraser!
Everything and everyone could be perfect:
Words could be unsaid,
Arrows unthrown,
And lives could be unlived.
Everything would be perfect!
Or would it?

Ah, the Photoshop-life dream!
We waste so much of our lives
In the retelling.

3 a.m.

Sirens scream outside, far away.
Maybe another conscience going by?
Life comes and goes all the time
For what in this world never dies?

The wind blows gently, while crickets sing.
It is but a quiet Autumnal night.
Under the weak light of my lantern,
I (insomniac) decide to pour down some verses.
But, then again, what's the use of words,
When we have this warm, all-embracing silence?

민수

A cold Autumn Saturday.
Under the red trees,
The entire world shines warmly
Through that curious pair
Of kind little eyes.

(Will I ever see them again?)

The Mirror

How many letters were never written?
How many words never said?
How many lives never lived?
So many things I have already said and done
So many lives I have already lived:
Where have they gone?

Ah,
It all gets lost in the bottomless pool of time:
All my great monologues,
All my discussions, my relationships;
All my brilliant plans to end world hunger.
All my inventions, all my careers.
My promising futures:
All gone. For good.
The only thing that remains is now.
(And even that has just gone by.)

Vovó

In silence,
Sitting by the old little pond
I pour over some Ryokan verses
As arrows fly nearby
I let myself by drained
By the savvy mosquitoes
While memories of you
Keep rushing in
Our last goodbye was full of grief
And your eyes were tearful.

Carps dance quietly in front of me
As quietly and swiftly as time goes by
As fast and irreversibly as life flows by
Though I shall never see your eyes again
They become very much alive
Every time I check the mirror.

In silence,
Sitting by the old little pond
I can see you everywhere.

Lonely?

Lonely?
Maybe a little bit
Maybe a little bit, when lovers pass by
Or when little kids run in tears
After stepping in sharp stones
Or losing their flying balloons.
Maybe a little bit lonely,
When families and friends get together
Under a beautiful reddening tree
To sing, laugh and drink
As if there is no tomorrow,
While time flies by so fast
And, soon, the Sun sets.

Lonely?
Maybe a little bit
A little bit that completely fades away
At the sight of those open smiles
The bright, joyful, innocent eyes
And the sweet sound of their happinesses.
For loneliness melts at these little pieces
Of the vast, boundless, infinite and sacred Love
That, through its own mysterious ways,
Through its unknown and incomprehensible ways,
Sews every little piece of us,
Each and every single one of us,
Together.

Lonely?
Maybe a little bit,
With all the other beings
Throughout the zillion Universes.

Dancing, dancing

Dancing, dancing
To the arrhythmic compass
Of western percussion and old strings:
An unlikely and unexpectedly good medley

Dancing, dancing
To the sounds of laughs and barking,
To the distant jetflow of the fountain
And the wary cries of the crows

Dancing, dancing
To no rhythm at all:
The unsaid, silent and ever-present
No-rhythmic rhymes of Nature

Dancing, dancing
Beautifully and uniquely dancing
Shyly and clumsily moving
Simply following the stream of life.