a desire to be quiet
amid the storm of phobic air
somber gray, silver mood striate
I enter the low bodhi lair
poem
The Abandon of Advanced Age
When I am a woman of old,
I shall never do what I’m told.
I’ll walk in puddles of deep muck,
and never give a flying…care.
To the ice cream parlor I’ll shuffle,
and wolf down a chocolate truffle.
For hours and hours I’ll sit,
and never, ever give a…care.
With my sister, we will hang glide,
and bi-monthly, we’ll scuba dive.
I might be on a crime program,
but I really won’t give a…care.
Natal Day
I’ve walked this trail so many times,
in seasons of both joy and grief;
matters bloom which suspend belief,
now I’m mezzo from birth to death.
This term, I’ve come to realize,
the purpose of one’s life lodges
not in popular mirages,
but undulates upon each breath.
Summer High School Job
canning fact’ry, sister in tow
third shift hours drove us loco
summer work to save some money
storing corn at the Del Monte
fingers smashed in the fast belt line
lead to chain of annoying whine
working among grown men, we pine
for sleep and food and all things fine
at last the summer job has closed
mom serves us corn, sister opposed
her first crush – a man ! – undisclosed
and now, for us, hard work is prosed
A 15 Year Old Poem (Home)
Home was Tammy Wynette singing twangy about d-i-v-o-r-c-e,
and Lionel Richie on my small radio, under blankets at night.
Airmail from Sunchang and mom’s lonely tears on the kitchen floor,
the wailing of Korean soap operas mingled with Fonzie’s voice.
Home was sex, drugs and rock n roll knocking on the door,
while Lawrence Welk swayed elegantly in the living room.
Home was as long and drawn out as the Mississippi River,
as sweet and sad as my first kiss with Torin, a black boy
who whispered “pretty young thing” as we stood on the porch.
My brother asked, “I saw you kiss him, did he use his tongue?”
Ode to Kerstin and Her Boys
Preparing for the dinner fete
Bought fish, veg, cake and wine
Suspense meets calm as time appears
At last our love combines
Your sons – maturing to great men
quickly they get settled
Our daughters – browsing internet
join us for tete-a-tete.
Supper’s ready, we take a seat
Salmon is smoky yum
But wait, asks Nate, where’s the kimchi?
Just happen to have some!
More great conversation is had,
Boys give chase to the pooch,
While violins ser’nade,
Us three take sips of hooch.
As all good things come to an end,
The boys get quite tired,
You gather kids and things, we hug,
I am left inspired.
Mogee*
The Mosquito buzzes loudly
and gives you time to escape
the angry welts of last nights’ feast
evidenced upon your nape
negligent neighbors leave pools green
the larvae turn to pupa
The process is quite enthralling
tho it might cause The Zika
A solution is in order
but the slayer you so dread
is the Desert Bat Sonor’
whose winged path you dare not tread
*Mogee is Korean for mosquito
Bonus picture of my dog.
Search for Sacrament
She adorned herself with auroral acquisitions
brooding to be the best bauble
disguising her diffidence
with an utter lack of resistance
Presented with provocation
she balanced the benefits of the bestowal band
affronts, abuse and anger were abysmal
but the lust for love
conquered her competence
Distillation
a fleeting moment
hair whipped behind you
hands tightly gripping the rails
you are suspended in
disbelief
and
exhilaration
It’s a thrill ride
and fascination flows from you
for all that’s ahead in your life
don’t ever lose the fresh
The Fugitive
Come! Impropriety reigns
Spouse and children have left
oh fleeting moment of depravity (!)
shall we imbibe spirits? Cuddle on the couch?
You invade my thoughts all day
incompartible, inutterable desire!
unattached companions are baffled
their tastes run contrary
Ah! You play hard-to-get!
Your presence is fleeting
My tall, dark and silent one
we bid adieu until the next occasion
hauls the rest of the motley crew away
and quietude – sweet serenity – alights
Kismet 