Missing my chariot, my sleigh, my zip zap zing… my t’aint no thing, be there in a flash, my traffic bypass, my bit of sass ~ by Peter N. Liptak If you fancy this poem share with a friend, (or a foe… you never know) so that others might stumble past — ’TIS ALL THE FASHION! From feast to famine, a poets line is thin. Follow my lean lead, come walk with me in wonder, then, if you will, PUT THE CASH IN! No Paypal account is required. Poets must eat……read more
Sitting in the sap of spring by the weeping willow, wondering …whiling away and wondering if the flow of time can be tied – have you tried? Binding it by a stretch of willow at the trunk to catch the flow of time and tide By and by, near the Nodeul ferry riverside —— Twig and twine tying time to the tree Trust not its boughs and branches, not me, To stop the page of life’s mystery the blue ever flowing by mindless of the willow’s strength, and my sigh…read more
Visa hot in hand… ‘merica here we come!
But when will we land? And what will become
of the friends who made this place home, those expat alum…
How do you say goodbye to 20-year associates, to the long friends, the Seoul mates that made this place almost home?
On a warm twist of winter
At 5:30 in the morning of Korean calm
An early bus slips past the chot noon [first snow]
Sailing down in windless clusters
As evening approaches,
And night extends the sky’s expanse,
A neon canopy is cast over the vast extent
Of Seoul’s story unfolding
Framed by bustling traffic and avenues aflood with people.
A tale reflected in the quiet river,
Soulful and scenic,where its Han runs deep,
Its water forever infused with history’s narrative
And composed by nature’s recurring chronicle….
Sketching the duration of sleep
it seems, I paint my dreams with all the tints and tones…
What dwell amid the rows of cement collars,
astride the mounted hills stepped with sustaining grass
and winding from the Seoul of late descent
came by morning of early trained mass?…
An Ode to Allen
Steeped in 500 years of Confucianism
The heritage of a dynastic Yi hermitage
Indoctrinated its population in the prism
Of expanding stasis, getting on in age.
Here begins the story of Horace
As he happed on the hapless case
Of Kojong and his hermit race
In a time of encroaching barbarians and Yi’s passing grace…