Han River Poems : June 2020

Saturday, June 27, 2020

Welcome Gordon

Sooner Gordon enters the world

Longer love is confirmed

Better begin with truth

More of a purpose.

Age old reflex

Of passed-on knowledge

Microcosmic family basics

Good to yourself and others,

Not an end to yourself

But a continuum of society

With confidence to lead the way,

Find the brighter path,

No longer quarantined,

With leftovers to share

At a table for the hungry

In a kitchen rich with spices and herbs.

Gordon has his place at the table

Next to sister Samantha

Between a loving mother and father

Born on a morning when the sun did shine

A boy who may cut the Gordian knot in time.

June 26, 2020

www.readingsandridings.jimdo.com
Purchase "Unnatural Beauty; Poems from the Han Riverside"
Copyright © 2020 by David Barry Temple. All rights reserved

Thursday, June 25, 2020

The Downward Spiral Called the United States

I sit and watch the downward spiral

called the United States

from my safe Taiwanese home,

but a radical at heart I remain

and do what I can to educate

wayward sheep flocking themselves

with condemnations of violent revolt.

there are no criminals in an uprising;

only downtrodden victims of the system

if anything good can come out of the racism

of the botched U.S. response to corona

it is my son living on the streets of L.A.

who wisely transported to his Pittsburgh sisters

where he can stay and get attention

and credentials before the next step in life

like all the other stay-home quarantined

with time to reassess their dreams

that is what the meltdown means

a curfew in D.C. on June first at ten o’clock

Saw thousands of young people on the streets

surrounding the White House; defying it

bring in troops; martial law if they dared

brave fellow workers remained

the night it looked like the start of revolution.

no more Republican-Democrat hegemony

Senate and Congress resigned or hanged

torn down the statues of a racist time

life in the States getting worse I ask

did we expats escape in time?

thanks to a buy-out to save the city money,

marginalized by time with retired pension

by old friends and everyone on the street

but I never lost sight of the deterioration

of justice, liberty, and workers' rights

I didn't jump ship,

but it didn't drag me down

radical friends in Brooklyn don’t have a choice

as I turn off the TV on a foreign shore

of finding how horrible unable to stop

while comrades have to live in the muck

should I really give a fuck

in these years, who would begrudge me

a cabin near Walden Pond with my wife

underground near a Han River road

the only route an old rebel could go.

June 25, 2020

www.readingsandridings.jimdo.com
Purchase "Unnatural Beauty; Poems from the Han Riverside"
Copyright © 2020 by David Barry Temple. All rights reserved

Friday, June 19, 2020

Being Here Now

Actions I have taken and may not take again

Are outweighed by actions i am undertaking

Precisely oblivious to what is around the bend.

Putting one foot in front of the other

Automatically in the glory of bent toes balance

Directing the trajectory of the step behind

On the way to a destination

Chosen or prescribed

Without wondering ahead how or why

Only knowing what is given must be used

For nothing is better left undone

As nothing is better left unsaid

Naturally slow apace

Than miss a second of life to waste

Counterproductive to think of the seat

Until my body is ready to sit

As irrelevant the vacancy of a swimming pool lane

Until my feel are in the water

As I cherish every moment at no future expense

Swimming off steadily into a rhythm

That will pace me through twenty-five laps

Each stroke, legs and arms in concert

Head down thrice and two left twice for breath

One length facing right to smooth the chinks

Always one minute less than I think

In timeless tides being presently aware

Than think of behemoths or to stare

If I take it easy I might get there

What of the traffic there and home

Observed from the roadside on my bike

Solo or families drive through yellow to red

Hurrying vehicles into the crossroads ahead

Rushing to pass others on the left or right

To be the first one to reach the next light

What have they gained? Why did they try?

Is there something won in the bye and bye?

Some quick-thrilled pleasure of victorious games

Losing their leisure out of time

Or waiting impatiently for the next sign

Actions disturbing them I do not care

Taking my time getting there

June 19, 2020

www.readingsandridings.jimdo.com
Purchase "Unnatural Beauty; Poems from the Han Riverside"
Copyright © 2020 by David Barry Temple. All rights reserved

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

Love in the Time of Corona

Writing love in the time of corona to forget her

When tall grass on the banks waves in the breeze,

Mourning doves flock over the bridge arch,

And cool rapids splash river boulders midstream,

With enough percolation to defer any dreams

What good would it do to figure her out?

When under-span waterfall echoes reverb,

Drowning traffic noise tightening river belts

Around an odorless anchorage of evaporated urine

With enough older love to fasten my heart

Not going to go where only her hormones know

With enough gnats to nourish swallows and bats

Through Taichung’s veins of throbbing blood

As native girls smile at this alien male

With enough testosterone to make it move

When her thermals low-bridge my levitation

I swoop rhythmically like an egret’s wings

Through saturated skies on mountains amassed

The thunder that ripped through the love I found

Withstanding rain sheltering me from her pain

Her fascinating adornments melt like eye shadow

Resembling tears of misgivings in the spooky night

As she acquiesces in the fight against dependency

I have already retreated to where she will not know me

On the shady riverside watching younger men fish

June 17, 2020

Monday, June 15, 2020

Picking Feet on a Bench

I'm back to the bench where a new spot was found,

Where someone’s left baggage no feet on the ground.

Who would have guessed the places we would go

In four months places I can never again see

Without thinking of her smiling face sitting with me

Riding bikes round sun-moon lake and up a river

On railroad bridges over roaring torrents of plum rain

My eyes adoring her all the way

Her youthful poise and funny poses

Temperatures rising when we leave

Through tunnels of stalactites dripping down

Settling like glistening permafrost ice

We shared green velvet on a knoll behind the station

Had brunches in many bistros during our vocation

The looks we exchanged up close with glee

Bringing such sorrow to me now

Never did I touch her contagious love

In language our exchanges could not understand

With feelings our hearts could never surpass,

Trailblazing roads that ended off maps too fast

After she was spooked by the darkness

Falling into familiar ruts that run her life down

I return to this spot to see an old woman

Alone with her nail clipper and crippled toes

To the space I had started anew

Like we never really happened

To the rock of ages she threw

The pebbles of a dream that could not come true

June 15, 2020

Monday, June 8, 2020

It is not good enough that the days rush by

It is not good enough that the days rush by,

Filling each void to keep busy,

Passing the days to draw you nearer.

What I want is you here with me now,

To feel the dream becoming real,

Out of my head and into the night,

With music’s swell enveloping us.

The dance of serendipity moving within.

It is not good enough

For the time to fly

When it can burst through the speed of light

Into flames hard to contain,

Smoldering upon reaching your lips.

When time together slips through our hands,

Better to dream about you within every distraction,

See your smile in everything,

The ripeness of your eyes,

Your adorable glance of disbelief,

Tightening our coil until its release.

Nothing could be the same

After you whisper my name,

After we kiss and draw each other near;

That is what I fear.

June 8, 2020