Seoul has a dream
It dreams of light and life,
of vibrant color and vast urban spaces.
It dreams of incorporating culture with economy…
Ode to a Snowy Scooter in Seoul
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
Nodeul Ferry Riverside
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
Goodbye Korea
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?
White
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
Like whispers
Wetting windshields…
Recollections of Han
Cityscape
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….
Nepal
Nepal
Palettes,
Drawing dreams,
Sketching the duration of sleep
it seems, I paint my dreams with all the tints and tones…
Yosu
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?…
