I Shall Be a Flower 18: I Miss You

I hear you guys are close.  True?
What is ‘A man and a woman are close’?
Do I feel jealousy in her tone?
Close? Not at all.
I don’t look like I am lying,
but where is my hidden smile coming from?
Suddenly I miss her
who’s not in front of my eyes.
I miss you dearly.
Come quickly.
A joke-like outcry thrown in public.
A pollen flown awkwardly before Spring has come.
As women’s suspicious glances become the spring breeze
and makes my heart pounding,
this flower will root deeper?

Woman with No Tears

She doesn’t have tears, I hear;
She can’t weep when dumped by a man.
So she used to kick man away first.
Giggling at the man holding his stick in agony,
She comforted her sorrow
that she couldn’t shed tears.

Alas! She can’t dump me, though;
In spite of those many crappy days together.
She might be humiliated by not being able to cry
If deserted by me.
She can’t enjoy throwing me away
She can’t do anything about loving somebody.

She says she doesn’t need tears.
She weeps with her whole body.
She sheds tears through her feeble flesh.
Tears doesn’t come out only from eyes, I should say
Shedding tears is not the same as weeping, is it?
She is always sobbing even without tears.

In this way, I am stuck in her,
since I can’t make her weep;
woman who can’t shed her tears….

Woman’s Life

In her teens, she was full of curiosity about that.
In her twenties, she knew what that was.
In her thirties, she enjoyed that.
In her forties, she badgered about that.
In her fifties, she bought that.
In her sixties, she prayed for that.
In her seventies, she forgot what that was.
In her eighties, she didn’t know what they were talking about.
In her nineties, nothing mattered.

I can’t satisfy her curiosity.
I got nothing to let her know.
I can’t quench her joy.
I can’t give her desire a disappointment.
I am not for sale.
I am not an answer for her prayer.
I don’t want to remind her of that thing.
I don’t have to tell her what they were talking about.
We are just staring at each other blankly.
Nothing matters.

Woman’s life?
Man’s life….

Sin [Gospel of Mary P7:11-28]

A butterfly –
licking a pretty flower,
uncorrupt nature; not a sinner

A sparrow –
Ignoring a sunflower seed in the street;
committing a sin

A man –
not craving for the scent of a woman;
creats a grave sin out of nothing

A wolf –
with lamb’s blood dripping from mouth;
not condemned as a sinner


Crickets’ chirping
Drives out cicadas’ chirring
In my front yard

Drizzle all day
Tries to strip the shy trees
In my backyard

Blue sky
Is too high to paint blue
My window upstairs

Chilly breeze at dawn
Dries out smell of sweat
From my forehead In the park

Without lonely widow
On the bench by the lake
Man can’t endure another autumn

Docile Man

She called.

Woman:  Docile…
Man:        (soliloquy) Hmm… this lady will give me a docile woman…?
Woman:  I am collecting men…
Man:        (soliloquy) Docile man? Does that exist?
Woman:  I will organize a group. Join that group.
Man:        (soliloquy) Am I a docile man? I didn’t know…
Woman:  Men in current group are all stubborn, arrogant and only talks about old laurel…
No..No..No.. I hate them…
Man:        (soliloquy) I am stubborn and arrogant too…Why do you think I am docile?..
Woman:  Are you listening?
Man:         I though you would give me a docile woman…
Woman:  Geez! I know delusion is men’s daily bread, but
You have wife and me around you as well….
Man:        (soliloquy) Ah! I’ve become a docile man to my own mistress…

Gloomy daydream

Once Upon a Time in a Forest…

Long, long ago
Doesn’t matter how long,
Since it is too long for him anyway.
A boy played in a forest far from the world
Nobody couldn’t get to that secret place but
A small trail was wide open for the boy
Who was looking for a small cute pond for a cool bath
The boy, now a man, has a huge regret.
He didn’t explore the forest enough to remember
All the corners in detail.
He should have emitted his cherished desire.
He could have plunged in the pond without thinking.
Ah! He couldn’t enjoy the scenery, the touch, the smell, the sound
Of the forest and his relative youth,
‘Cause the cruel world suppressed his passion.
Now he misses the forest and wants to go there again,
Which is beyond his grasp.
He paints the forest and its small pond and
Hang it on the dark corner of his mind,
Wishing it were a real picture of the still wide open forest and
His sacred pond untouched by savage beasts.