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hyon shim chong Jul 2016
It was on one of those illuminated white nights
Blustery and transparent as ice
I came out of my fitful slumber in search for you
Seeking for warmth in a frosted desolation.
And there you were, at least a portion of you
Trapped in a snowflake, the faint glow of a dying ember
I let you fall onto my cheek and with my hand I savor the warmth
Until melted, you return to your original form
Desirous for more I walk along the sidewalk
And trailing behind me I hear the melancholy chiming
Of the hushed, whispering shadows, exactly two steps to the rear
I turn to them and muster some strength and give a leer
“I don’t have what you’ve come for. Just let me be”.
But they never let up and quick as I’ve gone
Their pace draws upon double until only one step behind
A quick left past the ivy-choked chapel
I look, and behold,  a pale lake!
There the boat's banked just as before
Expectant and dutiful til the end.
The moon’s luster casts a shimmering mist
A silver veil for the doomed bride.
The ceremony awaits on the other side
The chiming sounds ever louder, a beckoning call
The shadows halt at the edge, shaking their wraith-like heads
I wave goodbye as I drift farther away
And here am I met with ghastly wails.
The mist rises from black waters, swirling around me
Choking out the last of a corporeal sigh
A matrimonial gown fashioned by the haze
Of the black, murky, unconscious waters
On the other side a duo of candles lit
One for you and one for me, til eternal rest do us part
The stars, the weeds, the insects bare witness
As I join my hand in yours
And feel the snowflakes melt a thousand burning embers
Where I go next is a secret
In whose clues you may find in the footsteps
Of shadows on a shrouded, lonely night.
hyon shim chong Dec 2013
Mornings feel of crisp, cool air,
The Earth’s sighing, I do declare.
When luscious coffee meets with mouth,
I swear the fog clears right on south.
A blank table, wiped clean of grit,
From yesterday’s leftover ****.
And yesterday, I do declare,
Exists as much as fairy fare.

I wake up early ‘fore the start,
Of Helios’ grand depart.
And when he beams his raiment gold,
I’m out the door into the fold
Of Mother Forest’s embracing arms,
She does protect me from all harms.
Yet when ego starts to take a reign,
And creeps up on the mind’s terrain,
She doth remind me in the form
Of twisting ankles stumble storm.

A sense of wonder I do partake,
Through contemplation of our make.
Besought with wonderment and awe,
When buzzing insects in the raw
Try to creep into my ear
Dear God, oh why, always near there?

I do declare these bugs must die
I wave the flag and battle-cry.
Legs propelled now as fast they can,
When- feeling triumphant!- I hardly scan
The path that they my legs do take,
So that Mother then does give a shake
Of Earth such that off kilter I go
Into the soft landing pad of dirt, aigo!

Back home I’m clean and washed of sin,
(Until the butter does me in).
And so I go about the days.
Without my mornings I’m in a fray
I must declare, I do declare
Won’t you join this sprightly hare?
hyon shim chong Jul 2013
It’s only when I look through the landscape of your deep, forested eyes do I sigh a breath of relief that intelligent design hasn’t yet lost its sense of child-like wonder and star-dusted amusement.
The Cosmos of the dark speck that spirals in infinite jest through that one glimmering eye brings a sort of satisfaction that everything twirls in disynchonous harmony. Twins, pairs, symmetry are a hushed, secret act.

“We bring you an illusion of perfect balance”.

Finger on your lip and hush.

(Little do they know the scale has been rigged).

And who else understands and bursts forth a screech, a cackle, but the falcon that swoops down in a pendulous parabola to clutch the trout in its vicious talons? Or rather, could it be the trout that flops about in a grand old writhing dance, passed down from eons past, who in its last bubble of gill-breath merely dies to proclaim to one and all (but mostly no one and nothing) that -

Ha ha ha! He-he-he! **-**-hum-**!

Belly aches of laughter – peals of it – regurgitated from the Earth in hand-held unison. The voices of all that was, is, will be, reverberate through the howling winds of a stormy summer’s night while we make love, bodies entwined like the vines that choke out the trees, the trees screaming,

“Yes, more!”

Do you hear the feast of the ages that roars deafeningly into your conch shell ears, the eating that goes on without end? Mother eats Daughter, Daughter in a frenzied last attempt gnaws on Father’s limb; and why not let the dogs come and join in on this Bacchanal charade until all is lost and cannot be found again?
The warm gentle rain pitter-patters upon the asphalt after the storm has all been reduced to a sleeping babe after hurling an asthmatic, raging tantrum. Let him sleep awhile and let the days spin justly so until he sees and hears and tastes and feels and smells what has been provided on the table in front. Let him then tire of it all and in a single snap, regurgitate and reconfigure vast possibilities without an end; always and forever, an end. Is it the end?
And in the meantime, let us luxuriate in the soft touches of our skin, never minding the vast microbial colonies that we’ve smothered and the ones newly created.

I look into your eyes and sing with the angels, hear the trumpets blare, signaling the coming of the Horsemen. Take me with you where you shalt go and I will like a thirsty, wilted flower that has been in the sun too long, journey beside you until the last petals have fallen and long since turned to dust.

Or does this signal a beginning?
hyon shim chong Jul 2013
Casting the pole in the water
Dreading that something must die
Conscious of casual slaughter
Reeling the cast up too high

Flip, gurgle, spinning-flop
There's a fat man on the hook
With gills and fins, a sodden sop
Held fast to the bait as it shook

The wherewithal of that man so fat
Came from the fish from beneath the land
Incredibly rich in nutrients, he shat
Fish and crustaceans not at all bland

'I tire of dwellers of land', he spoke
'I came down under in order to sunder
My fish from yours, ya calliwag'
And thus he spoke, this insipient bloke

The bait I now must make mention
A concoction of poisonous herbs
A tincture of botulinum extension
Will make do incredible disturbs

The fat man shook as he gasped
When he saw my most lurid grin
Then shallower his breaths as he grasped
His chest as he fell on his shin

He vomited up many fish
Of colors so vivid and stark
I scramble the assortments and dish
Out the fish before it got dark

The man now lies on his back
His eyes are large and wholly a-glaze
His mouth open with dribbles of black
Bile and slime, his eyes quiet the gaze

A thousand fish I easily have snatched
From this man who threw me up riches
A full belly for me at the expense of the scratched
Man who lies now in the ditches

So is it in livelihood these boils
When poor men in minding their own heed
Must give up the fruit of their toils
For fishers who have many fish, without need

— The End —