don't you love acting like a pig?

don't you love acting like a pig
caring nothing about anyone else but yourself?
if he goes away and dies
there's nothing you can do about it...
but i'd rather
see the egrets snowy white
dance on stones in the cool Han flow
stepping high and looking down
for tiny fish before they're found.
i'd rather see three butterflies fluttering by
intertwining in the milky blue sky 
just as a gray-winged sage
sails south like the turn of a page
another page another sight
of peaceful flowing Han delight...
but now, i'll stand up to piss
while to the right of all my bliss
the rude intruder on our bench
perhaps he'll smell my urine stench

1-8-14

the wind is blowing gently

the wind is blowing gently

replenished from exhaustion

I pedal my bike lightly

And follow in proportion

All I had hoped for will be

Not looking at you looking at me

Proud of race proud and free

The rest missed their abortion

The hawk owl with purpose sails

Flies downstream from this circus

The black bird sits on a bended cattail

Resting from the ruckus

Han water fills the pails

Egrets wade for their males

The heron’s bent wing wails

Breathing nature’s purpose

Need I bring binoculars

A camera and a tent

To capture this particular

And come back here again

Away from greedy men

Who rob us with their pens

And merge with all the Zen

For nature’s vast vernacular 

1-7-14

sleek white egret launches itself

sleek white egret launches itself 

from the rock it chose

 round which no fish run

why stay?

rise up o'er the Han. 

move where you may go.

feel no pain and never care.

know your home.

know your acquantances,

but not their names.

live in the moment

but remember the river

where you have hunted,

and drunk fresh water.

well, what do you know?

you flew back

12-16-13

 



all the foul-smelling wind that waifs across the Han

all the foul-smelling wind that waifs across the Han
couldn't dull the joy of two small birds
answering each other's calls.
the litter by the wash-off trough that wasn't there yesterday
may still be there tomorrow
but i won't notice it with too much disgust;
a few assholes are sufficient to bring shit flies lilting
onto the beauty of a million roses without noses.

the blessings i've been served  -
Simone and Amanda sharing love on graduations,
Ariel and Renna finding their kindred spirits -
and Leona, mighty and deliniated,
sweeping rose petals fore and beyond my path
without a hint of foul odor from her scooter,
dispersing crowds in the path
and joggers who jog behind, not in my face
preserves the grace of this wonderous place
with runners on base before the grand slam!

12-7-13

how sure the I Ching was about it falling

how sure the I Ching was about it falling
after a zenith it wouldn't again reach
this time around on the merry-go
how to flippant kids i preached
without a clue of what to do
thinking they knew what was doing
for this foreigner old and out of touch
their lives with so much brewing
with nothing saved but here and now
no reason to think about tomorrow
or crucial reason to survive the sorrow

with a family raised and cared for
no more punching in and out
i've only to enjoy this wonderful day
and hope i don't get gout

how sure the I Ching topped it off
on the verge of something solid
but built upon such shifting ground
and groundless states of statements stated
used to repression and being berated
how can one know what one's never been hated
or try being bold after you've been sold
when the ruling class with power
can fuck you any hour
a terrible terror that terrorizes
keeps one eye on your two closed glowers

with a family raised and cared for
no punching in and out
living these bright wondrous days
there is no need to shout

I Ching saw it flake away
like paint chips from a leak
be proud of new year bonuses
and dime-a-dozen paper sheep
the last dynasty with nothing to learn
cook my food and fix my toilet
they need no help to help them boil it
too proud and sure to ever soil it
clench those butt-cheeks tighter smile
and hang on for a little while

a family raised and cared for
mean more to me than you
i need just entertain myself
enjoy the whole day through

my technique makes you fluent
we both are sure of that
and i have mastered getting passed
that big black union rat
clouds are puffy, skies are blue
retirement is strange to you
you work each day until you die
take no advice and i know why
you don't ask me how it's done
i've offered once or twice a gun
now i have to run

to family i pay attention
give my endless love
flow Han waters gracefully
with help from the Lord above

12-6-13

tiny spider hanging from a wisp of web

tiny spider hanging from a wisp of web
floating from the overhang of a riverside bench
to and fro within the gentle wind
looking large as a swallow darting through the sky
over Han waters whispering by
comparable to a distant auto in size
or masking a noisy helicoptor in its shadow


egret or crane, whatever your name
stand mid-stream on a boulder the same
and a butterfly fluttering by
is silent but to bretheren cry
see the vanishing point of a sparrow
or see the great river get more and more narrow
squeezing fish like glue in a fist onto the riverbanks

spider, spider, to an ant you're a feast
and big frogs in their little ponds
hop for their lives in an earthquake shaking
between the earth and baking sun baking
where nuclear-armed Americans
do what only comets have done
to a tiny spider's dreams

12-3-13

An American Eagle Thanksgiving Prayer

the Hopjes bring me back to Linden Boulevard
as sure as scent quickens a stray dog to its pack on the Han
Monitor and Merrimack steam of ancient radiators
filling the old living room warmpth like a hot air balloon
hear Dad's self-assembled Lawrence Electronics amplifier
spinning Peter, Paul & Mary on the Garrad turntable
Auntie Ray fussing near Uncle Joe grinning on the sofa
Thanksgiving in Brooklyn with Hanukkah latkas

my American Eagle family of colleagues
pre-revolutionary brother Pilgrim Darren
fellow bicyclist Agya and Rising Sun David
gluey Nicole and Zoe's reassuring smile
thank the Lord for the children a while
Antonio, mange, falissimo!
as Kenny clicks photos i'll never take home
but it doesn't matter; the films in my head
as sure as Pershing Arms' red hot marble buttocks
on a crisp November night in the Brooklyn tenement
with Bubby's borscht and Pop's frikisee
or the bushiban's noodle communal dinners

thank you for coming and warming our seats
around this Thanksgiving table of sours and sweets
thank you Teddy and Celia for making us able
for joining us at this American Eagle table
to see the bright faces of all the dear children
like you, Johnathan,
we do it for you and your little friends
on a crisp Taichung Hanukkah turkey
may it never end although it sounds jerky
amen to the light in the candles of life
and thank you for Leona, my dear loving wife

11-29-13