I have an album
where I keep photos
of places I have lived
places I have visited
people I have known
people I have loved
I keep films
of things I have done
things I have seen
things I even think I have forgotten
but they are all there

you who read this
may not have known the people
not been to the places
not seen what happened
but I can tell you about them

those photos
those films
are not in a book
not in a computer
not even on a memory stick
I keep them wirelessly
in my mind
and I call them up at will
or they come to me
happy or sad
without my wishing it

but the difficult part is
that the drive can be corrupted
memories can be lost
and the day will come
when they will all be erased
unless I can recreate the photos
in your mind
remake the films
by telling you about them

then if you read what I have written
you may make your own pictures
from my thoughts
my words
my memories
and maybe some of them
can live on

I hope they will

I could say
   “Ni hao”
for “Good morning,”
and it was only polite to say
    “Xie xie”
for “Thank you.”

That was my limit
until, in a babble of unfamiliar sounds,
I heard the word, “**-murr,”
and then again, “**-murr.”
**-murr? I thought.
Do they have The Simpsons in China?
But it was only “back door.”

Later, struggling to board a bus by the middle door,
I heard the conductor say,
    “**-murr”
– and I could even hear the exclamation mark –
   “**-murr!”,
I knew this time he wasn’t talking about The Simpsons,
and I had a pretty good idea
he wasn’t a fan of classical Greek poetry either.

But I didn’t want to be left on the pavement
when he closed all the doors and drove off.
So I just squeezed in by the middle door,
as if it was all Chinese to me.

My home in my dreams,

I am amazed every night, when I see you in my dreams.

When I look at the moon., I see the tower to the north.

I can not believe you changed,
My life forever.

I only wish I can find the courage, to hold you in my arms at last.

My home in my dreams,
I wish I had met you a lifetime ago.

I wish I could give you one thousand of
my lifetimes.

I owe you my life,
My Seoul Korea.

I love you.

I miss you.

I owe you my life,
I owe you. You are the reason I am still alive,
Arirang, I owe you more than ever!

Seoul I love you,
A place I have only been to in my dreams,

How can I ever repay you?
For sending me such beautiful dreams.

I am amazed every night, when I see you in my dreams.

I live for you every day to hold you in my arms,

I live for you!
My Seoul,

I wish I could be standing in your arms where I belong.

My love Seoul,
I can't help but smile and wonder why God sent me here far to the West.

When you tell me every day, I belong in your arms.

But I owe you so much,
Hundreds of poems,

Hundreds of dreams
from a place, I have never been.

Amazing!
How can this be?

I love you Seoul Korea
that time can never take away.

I owe you more than my life
More than anything
I know this is a dept that I will never be able to repay.
Because I owe you so much
I owe you my life now, more than ever,

Why was I born so far away?

In the wrong time and wrong place?

Seoul Korea

My home in my dreams.


(C) 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.

i am learning to love myself
like he never could
and darling
i can feel flowers
growing from my scars
reaching for the sunshine
of my new found smile

s.s

Why does he get to be happy?
when he should be knee-deep
in regret and repenting
from calling me crazy
and lazy
and blaming any fault on me.

Why does she deserve what I built?
when all I got was a botched love
or something worse than that
compelling me
to feel as if
I don't deserve anything
still ringing true
from his distorted,
gnarled logic.

Why can't I have what they have?
I guess the joke's on me
once again
and I'm left being haunted
by flashes of him in the kitchen
rendering me
feeling all or nothing
overwhelmed or numb.

Why does he get to be happy?
and surely sleep soundly at night
next to her
and dream of the future
that I once dreamt of too,
pried loose
from my unsteady hands.