In this room where only we two are in,
you can say it is an expression of longing
or desire…or lust.
A flower is just standing there.
that doesn’t pull butterfly’s eyes
and gives itself to bee’s kissing.
The butterfly’s silence
even without the sound of flapping
is an exclamation
that burst out after aeon’s waiting?
The desire is for living a day
or for getting name-brand bag?
Is it a struggle of praying
like the calm Sea of Galilee?
I wish it were a butterfly faithful to its desire.
I hope it is not a gloomy stillness
after a battle for trying to escape the desire.
A little fantasy that started from my throbbing heart
was too big for kid’s small mind,
so I wanted to run toward God’s bosom,
but while hesitating, hesitating, delaying, delaying,
the fantasy was growing, growing, getting bigger and bigger,
bouncing and jumping like a sparrow
and finally became an eagle and its wings covered the sky,
and lift the tent that shielded the bottom.
When I saw the white veil that wrapped the bottom,
my pounding heart removed the veil
and plunged into the bottom, into the bottom,
but the fantasy that penetrated deep into my life
and captured the dream of the flower,
has no bottom, doesn’t it?
Wishing the butterfly would dream the same fantasy…
I should’ve passed by
just waving my hands.
A wobbling flower snooping around her.
Butterfly’s reluctant nodding.
Where is yesterday’s bright smile?
I forgot that I would be a flower?
I didn’t know I just have to blow scent?
That is why I am still going.
Not sure I am really taking roots.
It wouldn’t easy for a butterfly to become a flower.
Why is it trying to be a flower?
I was just staying in this spot.
It was the butterfly that flew to me.
Making her a butterfly like this,
and becoming a pretty-blossomed flower,
and finishing this childish serial poetry,
And spreading the wings hidden,
let’s go to the rose garden.
Well, no! Wait a little bit more.
Who know I might really become a flower?!
Is that butterfly so common
that I can’t remember seeing it
even though I saw it many times?
Its wings are not fancy with no rainbow colors.
They are not rare wings with eccentric shape.
They are not wings with mottled pattern.
They don’t have strong primary colors.
They can’t be distinguished with dull background.
Still, the butterfly flutters its wings in pride.
Why does a fancy butterfly lime me awake
and want to be a flower?
Why do I want to rooted in and locked up in a land,
even though I was flying in the sky in freedom?
The butterfly might be a lonely wild flower
born in deep remote mountain
or it might be a pitiful grass hanging in the cliff.
or it might be a woman waiting for a man in the red street.
Well, it might be a mother with baby on her back,
going over a dark hill.
That is why she is so sexy;
She is so so ordinary.
The man with banal look
was believed to a jewel in the mud,
so she committed her lift to him
and kept brushing the dirt
off during her entire whole life.
After many a decade,
The jewel turned out to be a poet.
Her look can’t be described even in this poem.
Is she trying to dismiss gold as common stone?
Or she is trying to take a small rock as a treasure?
It is fortunate
her brushing didn’t start earlier…
I got sick and tired of the name – Rose
In this rose garden crowded with roses.
Smiling Rose; now you come to know
what ‘flower’ really means. Don’t say,
rose! Rose! If you become a flower,
You will be a flower that is more beautiful
than a rose. Rose is for your eyes only;
It’s just a beautiful flower. I am who I am,
why am I rose? How come a human can
become a rose? You’re right. Live just
like that as always. Live just saying rose!
Rose! What a silly dream! Can I call it a
rose dream? When I wake up, Jesus
on the cross is in front of my eyes. Lord,
why do you talk hard sayings like this?
Jesus who smiles just like a rose…
The Sky, sunk deep down,
seems to become one with
the Earth, but how can the Sky
and the Earth be fused into one?
When a thick cloud harboring
the smell of the Sky is wandering
and touching the Earth with its feet
and a sunlight filled with the yearning
of the Sky Is coming down to cover
the Earth with its warmth, and a dim
moonlight bearing the desire of the
Night Sky is falling down like a firework,
the only thing the Earth does is to try
to reach the Sky by smoking haze.
Right, the Sky and the Earth
was one. After aeon has passed,
They are trying to become on again,
But the Earth can bear the weight
of the Sky? The Sky can stand the
humidity of the Earth?
The Earth that can’t come up close
to the Sky can’t do anything but waiting
for the Sky to collapse.