?? ?? saeyeong jima  plays out in life

The Korean Proverb
?? ?? saeyeong jima
recently came to life in my life

The meaning of the proverb
Is that you can never know whether something
will be good or bad

and that unexpectedly
what appears to be bad fortune
turns out to be a good fortune

The proverb played
out recently in my life
about lunar  New Year's Day

we were preparing to go to Thailand
from two weeks from our home
in South Korea

and then at the end of February
we would do to go to DC

My wife blew out her lumber desk
and we were forced to cancel our trips
This occurred
just as the coronavirus
was taking out around the world

and if we had gone
we may have been stuck either in Thailand
or we may have been stuck in the United States

and traveling in the mist of a corona outbreak
would probably mean
that we would have been exposed
to the virus


instead we were forced to stay home
and self quarantine ourselves

and therefore
we escaped being exposed to the coronavirus
and we feel much safer
here in Korea  where the outbreak is contained
rather than in DC
where it is still spreading everywhere

so in a sense her misfortune
throwing out her disk
which resulted in us staying at home
and avoiding the coronavirus

is the true meaning
of the Korean Chinese expression
?? ?? saeyeong jima

writers digest prompt write a lucky/unlucky poem

the Terrorists were succeeding beyond their wildest dreams

the terrorists were succeeding
beyond their wildest dreams
they thought what were the chances

it was so much better,
easier than they thought
as the bombs dropped all around them

to where it would end
they did not know
All they knew was that
it was all about to end
you see  they were facing the end

The morning after the end of the world
the bombs fell and fell
in fact all over the world
it felt that the world would end up
being destroyed as the world ends
and nuclear war

they called for the end of the world
be so it must be they
thought to themselves

would they be able to stop the carnage
so it ends much as it begins
one does not know how it would end up
the bombs doing their bomb thing after all
they were simply bombs

all must die once they are released
after all that was the way it was
the bomb facility opened up death

the death of the whole world
of that we can be sure
following the blue prints

the master plans of the war planners
at the end of the day
it looks like Armageddon
a end of the world game

would it get that bad
to end the world

is that what they wanted
they did not know

it is possible no one knew
it was uncharted territory
it was the end of the world
if the bombs did their bomb thing

Poetry Super Highway Prompt

Turn to page 35 of any book. Use the first two sentences backwards for your prompt. I used James Tate, “Worshipful Company of Fletchers” and got: “ The pleasure of little incidents  Remember.”


From Vince Flynn protect and defend original text


If it was possible they wanted to get a look at the blueprints of the facility after all they were doing one so would be called and destroy it in the morning you about where to drop the bomb so better the chances were of succeeding



corona virus tanka

corona virus
it is spreading all over
the world dying

I walk down the path of life
Along with love of my wife

National Poetry Month Day Seven Prompt Tanka

Angela Came to Me for 38 years Bringing me lots of $

Angela Lee came to me
out of a dream she came to me
she walked out of my dreams
eight years after I first dreamt of her
she finally came to me  

it has been 38 years now
that she has been my wife
the love of my life
and every day
I recall the dream
of meeting her

she has brought me much to my life
this love of my life my wife
but the most important thing
she has brought to me
besides her endless love of course

is $
massive amounts of $
as she has made me
richer than I could have ever imagined
turning every day my $
into many more $

They say that a man
should marry a woman
born in the year of the Pig
for pig ladies are incredible
at managing $
and if you are so lucky
you will be buried in $

after Richard Garcia A Letter, a Number and some Punctuation
Poemuzine April 7 presentation prompt



The best meal of my life

the best meals of my life
has always been what my wife
cooks up for me every night

she is a genius in the kitchen
always making something great
from the simplest ingredients


Because she came down with celiac disease
she could  only eat
what she prepared from scratch
and so she was forced
to give up all processed foods

and in the process she became
the greatest cook
in the universe

I wait with baited breath
to taste the great food
that she creates for me

on lunar new years
she threw out her lumbar disk
and we were forced to stay home
just as the corona pandemic
swept across the world

if we had traveled
we would have contracted
the dreaded corona virus

and we were forced
to stay at home
and she took advantage
of staying at home
to try new dishes
every single day

I recall the Korean proverb
?? ?? saeyeong jima
as her misfortune
turned into fortune
and once again
she saved me life


I am the luckiest man in life
the best fed man of all I know
due to the cooking skills of my wife


lion dreams of impossible dreams

A lion’s impossible Dream

for all poetry impossible dream contest

An old lion
Roars in his sleep
Recalling an impossible dream

In his dream
He was a man
Who was chasing a dream
Chasing an impossible dream

The man
Was haunted
By a dream girl

A girl who appeared
Nightly in his dreams
Beckoning him to join her

He searched the world
Looking for her
And then one day

She walked
Off a bus
And into his life

The lion woke up
From the impossible dream
Smiling at the thought

Then he went off
To search for his
Impossible dream

Dreaming still
Of being a man
In search
of a dream girl


corona virus haiku

corona virus
brings death and our destruction
destroying our life










writers digest prompt write a lucky/unlucky poem

The Korean Proverb
saeyeong jima
recently came to life in my life

The meaning of the proverb
Is that you can never know whether something
will be good or bad

and that unexpectedly
what appears to be bad fortune
turns out to be a good fortune

The proverb played
out recently in my life
about lunar  New Year's Day

we were preparing to go to Thailand
from two weeks from our home
in South Korea

and then at the end of February
we would do to go to DC

My wife blew out her lumber desk
and we were forced to cancel our trips
This occurred
just as the coronavirus
was taking out around the world

and if we had gone
we may have been stuck either in Thailand
or we may have been stuck in the United States

and traveling in the mist of a corona outbreak
would probably mean
that we would have been exposed
to the virus


instead we were forced to stay home
and self quarantine ourselves

and therefore
we escaped being exposed to the coronavirus
and we feel much safer
here in Korea  where the outbreak is contained
rather than in DC
where it is still spreading everywhere

so in a sense her misfortune
throwing out her disk
which resulted in us staying at home
and avoiding the coronavirus

is the true meaning
of the Korean Chinese expression
saeyeong jima


the Terrorists were succeeding beyond their wildest dreams

the terrorists were succeeding
beyond their wildest dreams
they thought what were the chances

it was so much better,
easier than they thought
as the bombs dropped all around them

to where it would end
they did not know
All they knew was that
it was all about to end
you see we were facing the end

The morning after the end of the world
the bombs fell and fell
in fact all over the world
it felt that the world would end up
being destroyed as the world ends
and nuclear war

they called for the end of the world
be so it must be they
thought to themselves

would they be able to stop the carnage
so it ends much as it begins
one does not know how it would end up
the bombs doing their bomb thing after all
they were simply bombs

all must die once they are released
after all that was the way it was
the bomb facility opened up death

the death of the whole world
of that we can be sure
following the blue prints

the master plans of the war planners
at the end of the day
it looks like Armageddon
a end of the world game

would it get that bad
to end the world

is that what they wanted
they did not know

it is possible no one knew
it was uncharted territory
it was the end of the world
if the bombs did their bomb thing

Poetry Super Highway Prompt

Turn to page 35 of any book. Use the first two sentences backwards for your prompt. I used James Tate, “Worshipful Company of Fletchers” and got: “ The pleasure of little incidents  Remember.”

From Vince Flynn protect and defend original text

If it was possible they wanted to get a look at the blueprints of the facility after all they were doing one so would be called and destroy it in the morning you about where to drop the bomb so better the chances were of succeeding

corona virus tanka

corona virus
it is spreading all over
the world dying

I walk down the path of life
Along with love of my wife

National Poetry Month Day Seven Prompt Tanka

Angela Came to Me for 38 years Bringing me lots of $

Angela Lee came to me
out of a dream she came to me
she walked out of my dreams
eight years after I first dreamt of you
she finally came to me  

it has been 38 years now
that she has been my wife
the love of my life
and every day
I recall the dream
of meeting her

she has brought me much to my life
this love of my life my wife
but the most important thing
she has brought to me
besides her endless love of course

is $
massive amounts of $
as she has made me
richer than I could have ever imagined
turning every day my $
into many more $

They say that a man
should marry a woman
born in the year of the Pig
for pig ladies are incredible
at managing $
and if you are so lucky
you will be buried in $

after Richard Garcia A Letter, a Number and some Punctuation
Poemuzine April 7 presentation prompt

I met my Fate that date
Fan story contest

I met my fate
on that date
that the love of my life
became my wife

for eight years she haunted my dreams
then one day she walked out of my dreams
truly on that date
my life began when I embraced my fate

and to this date
I never forget that I met my fate
the day she walked into my life
and became my wife

I met my Fate that date
Fan story contest

I met my fate
on that date
that the love of my life
became my wife

for eight years she haunted my dreams
then one day she walked out of my dreams
truly on that date
my life began when I embraced my fate

and to this date
I never forget that I met my fate
the day she walked into my life
and became my wife

XXIX. TO HESTIA (13 lines)

(ll. 1-6) Hestia, in the high dwellings of all, both deathless
gods and men who walk on earth, you have gained an everlasting
abode and highest honour: glorious is your portion and your
right.  For without you mortals hold no banquet, -- where one
does not duly pour sweet wine in offering to Hestia both first
and last.

(ll. 7-10) (33) And you, slayer of Argus, Son of Zeus and Maia,
messenger of the blessed gods, bearer of the golden rod, giver of
good, be favourable and help us, you and Hestia, the worshipful
and dear.  Come and dwell in this glorious house in friendship
together; for you two, well knowing the noble actions of men, aid
on their wisdom and their strength.

(ll. 12-13) Hail, Daughter of Cronos, and you also, Hermes,
bearer of the golden rod!  Now I will remember you and another
song also.

My grandparent's house
ten-kid-large and sinking
on the corners of remembrance
Remodeled now, to
...tenements

Honeycomb
...the remnants

Irish immigrant and Scottish orphan's child
She sang on the ferry
He fell in love
"The rest is the history of us...."
Wide
as the Connecticut River, grieving--
in their sunset....
____

This-- chair
is his

I am afraid of it-- of his learning
of the shiny badge pinned to his coat
of his dying...
Golden leather of it
soothes
his memory--
of another continent
of the once warmth-- of a distant hearth
so darkened now--
where his head once rested
...his hands
and,
I fear--
his mind....

I will not sit in it
as if he will come back, to take his place
I am afraid of him--
with his chair--
all worshipful and empty
like a high place, abandoned
to the heart attack
not for grandchild play
Seat of Authority
still stamped
beside the standing cold--
brass ashtray
Pipe smoke imagines itself
against the ceiling in the words
of Yates and Milton
He read to them
and somehow--

Paradise is Lost....
_____

This house is cold now-- even in the summer-- cold
Worn as only large families wear
The War
of waiting shadows
--four brothers who were spared

Anna Mae, in charge, too young,
worries in abrupt dark
of dinning room
Her face, haunted--
an archway-- ever empty
by the large and ghostly table
covered by its web of lace--
a bridal veil
of Catholic impossibility...
Anna Mae, held hostage by her thoughts
of darling, Sean...

Aunt Lil's “breakdown”
with cigarette and thorazine  
quaking quiet in her corner

Aunt Nell,
as blind as smart-*** hell
ironing, darning
with threads that thatch
the wounded socks
Holds it all together, scolding--
Brought the welcomed jelly donuts
sneered as Yankees clobbered Boston
all-- while drinking yellow ale

Uncle Eddie-- laughing hoarsely
cracks nuts over a wooden bowl

your smoldering gaze penetrated me,
the look in your eyes as you stared at me was worshipful,
your eyes held a thousand dark, carnal promises,
pleasurable shiver skittered down my spine
and I felt like my heart had gotten stuck in my throat.

BORNE on the low lake wind there floats to me,
Out of the distant hill, a sigh of bells,
Mystic, worshipful, almost unheard,
As though the past should answer me, and I
In pagan solitude bow down my head.

Hacked
Every hook
Every cue
Every one of my references and internal pantheon
He's wired into it.

How did that happen?
He's a stranger
I didn't even know he existed two weeks ago

And yet...
He gets it so right every time.
~~
self referential
I like it when he writes of me. To me.
That curly feeling.
His revelations, and the mirror held up.

Tribute, affection, the wry smile of a stranger.
The slightly bonkers obsession and fascination.
Glimpses of a convoluted mind.
~~
Rib Ice
Standing on thin ice
Peacoat open, arms wide
I step into that hug

Burned by warm skin and hard ribs
Even more by his kiss

He likes to hear me moan
~~
Whose mindfuck now?

Are my actions consistent with my words?
Am I as I say I am?
Do I mean what I say, or am I playing you?
How's your ******* detector?

cards on the table time
abdicate or defecate
ante up
~~
headlong

He leads me on a scavenger hunt, insinuating, enticing, pulling me into dark corners to kiss me and probe me intimately, until we're off to cross the next threshold in this trip...

I have no idea how I got here. Turned round, disoriented, down the rabbit hole.
~~
Deep Purple

On the way out
Curious discoveries

Door handle sticky
Musk in the air

Who's that knocking at my back door?
~~
Goddess, lit**

I like this intimate touch I have on your mind and emotions. It makes me feel powerful and protective of you. And pulls me closer in.

When you say I am a goddess, your goddess, I suspend disbelief and nod in acknowledgment and agreement. Yes, of course. In those times, I know I am powerful, wise, feminine, and mysterious, And that you are before me, kneeling, clasping my legs, leaning on me, head against hip and belly, worshipful.

And sometimes, you clasp my wrist as I'm turning to go and pull me back, quietly certain and not to be resisted. Inevitable. And then what? Kisses? Your hand on my breast bone? Gently steadied to meet your gaze, interminably and for no time at all?

I begin to believe you won't vanish.

The gate is hidden in ivy, thick
Ropes, both alive and dead
Providing trellis for new growth, always
Leaving room for the gate.  Arched
Top of weathered oak, so keenly
Shadowed underneath, one key to
The secret of my secret garden
        Never Locked,
                   No Need,
                        No one goes there but me.
The doorway cut in hollow blocks
Some turned up, others down
A mosaic of solids and holes;
Triangle holes where small breaths
Of citrus air sneak past, to scent
And blend with vine and flower
Large and small, brilliant shades,
         Fresh turned earth,
                   Nostrils full,
                       With sweet privacy.
Walls, much taller than my head
Surround the inner area
One north; a mass of solid stone,
One south; holding the gate in its arms,
One west, staying the evenings sun
One east, open every other stone
With the beams of Sol cutting through
           Giving life,
                   Living Light,
                        Make my garden alive.
Well worn bricks in connecting
Circles, still damp at noon
From dawns' quick cleanings.
My feet in soft soles, never disturbing
By tick or clacking a fear in
The blue-jays and redbirds
Perched on the ancient carved stones
            Worshipful,
                    Quiet though singing,
                               Singing for me.
The oak bench, painted only
With rains of many seasons
Polished seat and back, smooth as
Sanded, with the fabric of trousers and shirts
My body reclined in respite,
A few hours, a few minutes
Stolen from the demands of others,
             Everyday demanding,
                      Draining the quiet,
                            Chipping at the walls of my garden.
A damp perspiration
Slips down the inside of my shirt,
My face is washed in the afternoon sun
Alone, finally alone,  pulling useless weeds
Impeccable manicure, attempting perfection.
Maniacal fervor must find a place,
A place where one can think,
                A place of my own,
                       of my making,
                            My secret garden.

Me! I! Myself! Mine!

I shout these words in militant exertion,
Demanding people to stop,
Commanding them to hear,
Ordering their full, undivided, worshipful attention.

"Am I not the centre of the universe!? Listen to ME!" I scream,
And sulk like an angry child as the world continues on,
Unperturbed, unaltered, un-adoring,
Without even noticing my voice.

If no one else will pay me heed,
Then I, at least, must do so.
So I worship my own image,
And prostrate myself before the alter of my self conceit.
I sing my own praises to my own ear,
And ******* myself to myself
in a vain attempt to satisfy my undying vanity.

Oh, you vainglorious *******!
Made illegitimate by the illegitimacy of your false worship
And the hypocrisy of your heart.
Do you not know, you were made to kneel? Fashioned to bow,
Not to your own image, but before the visage if Him Who made you in His own likeness
That you might bear within yourself the most sacred cartouche,
The most precious signet,
The most holy seal.

For you have been called to higher things than this broken clay vessel you defile with your adulterous worship.
Oh, you conceited fool!
Puffed up in your own pride,
Unaware of how utterly worthless you have made yourself.

And yet your Maker still stoops from Heaven
To hear your piteous moans,
And His heart weeps to see your self-inflicted wounds.

Thus He reaches down
And whispers His deepest Love to you
While you are yet gleefully drowning in your sin.

So unaware are you of anything but fleshly gratification.
But He touches you,
When you least expect it.
Like pearls discovered in a dung heap,
He surprises you with the Treasure of His Grace.
And with the tenderness of His Loving touch,
Lifts you from your mire and whispers in your ear:

"Oh, my Little Worm, I am your Redeemer."