red rain

My river is afire,

It is aflame,

Waters thick like lava,

Blood steaming and screaming,

Tonight the skies will gather,

And I’ll shower you with red rain.

 

Advertisements

fire & smoke

She was the fire in my chest,
the volcano in thine breast.
Albeit my ice heart,
she burned bright and she burned blue.
She made my glacier part,
And my soul flew.

Mine own lungs’ oxygen kindled her,
as well as the brazier she lodged in my ribs.
Now she burns no more,
She left my core sore.
All that’s left is to vomit ash.

Sometimes at dawn if I am lucky,
I find my soul’s dew,
ruined waters of my spirit.
Even rarer i find a heavy fog,
or a light mist.
As though she burnt bright,
Even if only for a night.
On those days i am a kite.

And she is both the fire and the smoke,
devouring me, lifting me or choking me.

free?

Seo-Deok-22

And now I ask,

Are you free?

Have you ever been truly free?

The freedom of a fire,

Coursing through the veins of a Savannah,

A grassland sodden in flame,

A destructive freedom,

Baring and battering the earth,

Leaving it sore and inflamed.

The freedom of the wave,

Belched from the deepest recesses of the sea’s mouth,

Rushing thousands of miles per hour,

Soured with ire,

As it bangs with all its fury,

With all its power,

At the cliff tower.

Have you ever felt the dance of liberation?

In your feet, your spine and your mind,

Your body overrun with convulsions,

Temperature spiking with victory,

At long last.

Have you felt your body wrapped…..

In a spiritual embrace?

A genocide of fear,

A nuclear warfare within,

Rays of thine own exothermic revolution,

suffusing reality and history.

I will ask again,

Are you free?

Have you ever been truly?

dedicated to all the unsung freedom fighters and slaves who dreamed of freedom.

 

Rescuing Yesterday

If the scientists are right,
And the threads of all reality,
Past,present &future,
Subtly rolled into one multi-yarn.

Sentenced to repeat,
Replay for eternity,
Hand me the water,
And the time capsule.

Just a gulp of the past,
That I may seal away,
All the pain,
All the strife.

Wind me up as you would,
A string of hope,
Let me wipe the tears of the future,
Before they fall.

Fear not for your todays,
Or whether you may witness,
The light of your tomorrows.

For I will risk it all,
To safeguard yesterday,
At the ultimate cost,
Of my today.

fairytales

Now i have strangled them all,
I am no longer a princess.
All that remains,
Is this beautiful golden dust.

But of it,
I may have some use.

My hair has no flair,
It dangles not the length of a tower,
All that is,
are these tiny, black &curly cauliflowers.

I don them well enough,
On my head planted like a crown.

My prince was neither a frog,
neither newt nor toad,
he had white matted hair,
And oh how he slobbered.

To transmute into a prince, he will not,
though all i need are his sweet licks of loyalty.

As i said, I am a princess no more,
Neither a maid to be wed,
I am a king resurrected.
From that beautiful golden dust.

Only in the more pleasing &shapely form of your queen.

I was taught to feel, perhaps too much,

The self-sufficing power of solitude.

William Wordsworth