Posts Tagged ‘ poem ’

TOM CLARK: The mind delighting in its rambles (Clare: “to wander a pathless way”): Moorland wanderings: W.S. Graham, R.S. Thomas / Is that a heart or a wound? (Sanctus Spiritus)

 

– WS Graham

 

Source: TOM CLARK: The mind delighting in its rambles (Clare: “to wander a pathless way”): Moorland wanderings: W.S. Graham, R.S. Thomas / Is that a heart or a wound? (Sanctus Spiritus)

“Microwave Rice” by Lee Byeong-Ryul – Left/Write Lit

Lee Byeong-Ryul (image source)

 

“Microwave Rice” (봉지밥)

 

There was a time when I used to buy microwave rice.
A time when there was no nowhere to put it.
I placed it in pockets, bags,
and hugged it to my chest.
Still, it always grew cold.

Eating it in secret, it became too thin.
But when it made splendid clumps, what I ate became my strength.
There is something your hands reach out to in hunger:
love.
And when there is nowhere else to put it, you fill a bag up with it.
Though it’s filled with love, it’s like carrying your worries.

If you press down on it, it bursts open.
If you don’t empty it, it’s an unfortunate situation
come to have a new taste.
The palm that squeezes the
upside down bag for the grains at the bottom,
is as blank and expressionless as those fingers which strip away love
without knowing where it goes.
Whether the bag’s volume should be further emptied or filled,
this hungering demand for love will fill it till the very end
even through heavy snowfall.
When the wind snatches away the bag,
you could say love has been taken with it.
Who is that wind
who carried off the bag
as if it were filled with rice?

 

봉지밥을 싸던 시절이 있었지요
담을 데가 없던 시절이지요
주머니에도 가방에도 넣고
가슴팍에도 품었지만
어떻게든 식는 밥이었지요

남몰래 먹느라 까실했으나
잘 뭉쳐 당당히 먹으면 힘도 되는 밥이었지요
고파서 손이 가는 것이 있지요
사랑이지요
담을 데가 없어 봉지에 담지요
담아도 종일 불안을 들고 다니는 것 같지요
눌리면 터지고
비우지 않으면 시금시금 변해버리는
이래저래 안쓰러운 형편이지요
밥풀을 떼어먹느라 뒤집은 봉지
그 안쪽을 받치고 있는 손바닥은
사랑을 다 발라낸 뼈처럼
도무지 알 길 없다는 표정이지요
더 비우거나 채워야 할 부피룰
폭설이 닥치더라도 고프게 받으라는 이 요구를
마지막까지 봉지는 담고 있는지요
바람이 봉지를 채 간다고
사랑 하나 치웠다 할 수 있는지요
밥을 채운 듯 부풀어
봉지를 들고 가는
저 바람은 누군지요

 

“Microwave Rice” (봉지밥) originally appeared in  Daum – 70 Representative Korean Poets.

Source: “Microwave Rice” by Lee Byeong-Ryul – Left/Write Lit

First Known When Lost: “The Further One Travels The Less One Knows”

No need to leave your door to know the whole world;
No need to peer through your windows to know the Way of Heaven.
The farther you go, the less you know.

Therefore the Sage knows without going,
Names without seeing,
And completes without doing a thing.

Lao Tzu (translated by Robert Henricks), Tao Te Ching, Chapter 47.

Source: First Known When Lost: “The Further One Travels The Less One Knows”

First Known When Lost: Two Rabbits And A Paramour

A Rabbit as King of the Ghosts

The difficulty to think at the end of day,
When the shapeless shadow covers the sun
And nothing is left except light on your fur —

There was the cat slopping its milk all day,
Fat cat, red tongue, green mind, white milk
And August the most peaceful month.

To be, in the grass, in the peacefullest time,
Without that monument of cat,
The cat forgotten in the moon;

And to feel that the light is a rabbit-light,
In which everything is meant for you
And nothing need be explained;

Then there is nothing to think of.  It comes of itself;
And east rushes west and west rushes down,
No matter.  The grass is full

And full of yourself.  The trees around are for you,
The whole of the wideness of night is for you,
A self that touches all edges,

You become a self that fills the four corners of night.
The red cat hides away in the fur-light
And there you are humped high, humped up,

You are humped higher and higher, black as stone —
You sit with your head like a carving in space
And the little green cat is a bug in the grass.

Wallace Stevens, Parts of a World (1942).

Source: First Known When Lost: Two Rabbits And A Paramour

3. #16 | resistance poems | Verse

A border, like race, is a cruel fiction
Maintained by constant policing, violence
Always threatening a new map. It takes
Time, lots of people’s time, to organize
The world this way. & violence. It takes more
Violence. Violence no one can confuse for
Anything but violence. So much violence
Changes relationships, births a people
They can reason with. These people are not
Us. They underestimate the violence.
It’s been awhile. We are who we are
To them, even when we don’t know who we
Are to each other & culture is a
Record of us figuring that out.

Source: 3. #16 | resistance poems | Verse

Poem, by Donna Fleischer | Solitary Plover, issue #25

Poem

 

when the last motor

stops

imagine such quiet

 

one can hear snow

fall

butterfly wings

a rose

 

open

clouds move

an ant

cry

sunrise

 

and

the sound

of the shape of

the water

Donna Fleischer
Solitary Plover issue #25
Winter 2017

Bamboo and Plum Blossom: Li Qingzhao (1084-1155)

Li Qingzhao (Li Ching-chao, 1084-1155)

This year with the end of autumn
I find my reflection graying at the temples.
Now that the evening wind is gaining force,
what shall become of the plum blossoms?

Source: Bamboo and Plum Blossom: Li Qingzhao (1084-1155)