Excerpt from Seoul Sonnets

Can’t go with you,
through the water,
flame and confusion.
We can’t have everything
we want all the time,
or we can’t want
everything we see, or
we must close our eyes
to the beauty of the
world to stop ourselves
from collecting each
thing that shines on
our hearts’ fancies—
that stumbles out of

Shadows into the
light. Is it you
that makes me close
my eyes to all
other beauties, or
does something else
bridle me with blinders
in the whizzing
disco lights of the
noraebang – just strobe
lights of lonely whistling
if you’re far away.
If there is a way out,
let’s take it, pack and run

Away from the repetitive
grind of eating and sleeping
getting boozed up and
begging for care and
understanding at 2am
with yr heart bleeding thru
yr sleeve and tears welling
up and wondering if
Buddha and Lao-Tzu ever
felt lonely gliding in
and out of silence, or if
Dante ever felt it was
worth chasing his tail over
Beatrice for a few sonnets

That no one alive can
understand. Shigani yakida
hearts need the medicine of
hours. I want to
I want want want to
I want to be that idea
slowly creeping up inside you
popping up as a
revelation just before
it’s too late and maybe you'll
find something about me
to love, before the scars
start to smart in the humid
air, and a voice tells us

“It’s not too late, it’s
never too late to
follow whatever is left of your
heart” – there’s always
a voice when you need one,
just listen, sit and hum
at creation, the song made out
of rainwater, and the human
problem born of a big bird
no one ever saw again winging
away into the valley forest,
the myth forms and we forget –
we watch kkachi birds
perch on snowy roofs

Through the fifth floor window,
and talk about the
strange circumstances that
brought us to that spot, and
of the women we’re falling for
with full weight of foolishness
like tenth grade boys who
see for the first time and
don’t realize they’ve gone blind –
there in the hallway,
in the quiet, so soon after
Christmas, when we both seem
to be falling in love; we’re
both going blind and stupid,


I asked “How do you do it?”
but the question was about
a different “it” than you realize,
I just wanted you to tell me
that love can be carefully
considered and rational, but
it’s too much to ask of you
to lie to me about the beauty
of what we know is true. –
If your heart won’t bounce
then don’t drop it – stay
curled up in the room of your
solitude - your heart an antique
piano: unused and out of tune.