Kyoung Update: Korea


Today is Sept 18th. National Independence Day of Chile. I miss dancing cueca, drinking wine and eating empanadas. It is raining outside… And somehow, the rain seems to inspire me, once in a while, to write a poem…


by: Kyoung H. Park

I am a man of words: words I abide by
and words I shy away from.
Some words have been said, meaning
every little nuance noted in the dictionary.
Some words have failed to express
the intent or reason for my feelings.
Some words I have used to lie and flee from commitment.
Some words I have used to trap you in my stories.
But I am a man of words, words I remember,
words I recall in the middle of my dreams.
There are words that were just an impulse,
words that burst out from rage,
words that I silently forget to mention,
words I held on to for no reason.
But being a man of words, I cannot but wonder
where did all these words come from?
What heart and blood and love and passion
made these words emanate to create
what dreams what hopes what illusions!
Every single you and I and love and
yes and no were meant with such care
to not disrespect or belittle or hurt.
Placed from your lips to my ears
and from my mouth to your heart
every little maybe and perhaps meant
now and here and forever.
But I am a man of words, nothing but a man of
Letters of an alphabet that cannot substitute our love
Nouns that cannot replace your being and
Verbs that exchange disillusionment with hope
for words–
lost words of a galaxy made of memories
of broken promises, forgotten dreams and fading light.
Oh, how I wish we could be like those words
that you and I said would last forever!
I am a man of words, playing a fool
between every I and love and you and
me and too and kiss and touch and hold.
Wishing I could change every alpha and betta
for another day with you
and gamma, episolon and delta,
for another smile of yours
and every second of every day to forget
every single word that makes me the man of words
who has been left deaf-mute and numb.

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