#korean
For someone
it can be a noise
Drum beats
tremble with space
metals split
the bunch of leather beats
A typhoon of disorder
Staying wrapped
in the middle of a striking hurricane
Feeling the sound
shouting to me
My heart beats
It absorbs those beats
It shakes my head
touching my spirit
This music long ago
came from shamans
When the music was
a human ceremony
Mysterious rhythms
What are those numbers
in the elastic organic rhythms?
What are those symbols
of the perception of the world?
Followed long roads
and formed through time
passing from people to people
with their own body rhythms
Their clouds
Their rains
Their thunders
Their earth
Transformed in the
orchestra of percussion
And the story of their nature
descends to me
I hear my ancestors
their messages
I meet them
and now I play
Their and our rhythms
of the Korean percussion
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 8:54 AM UTC
I come from bumpy roads,
The soft melody of Korean indie music playing on repeat in the car,
Droplets of water dripping down the window matching the lazy beat of the songs
We hopelessly drove around this merry go round of a globe
My family and I moved so much to the point of me not knowing what the word "home" meant.
When people ask me where i'm from,
I hesitate and grow anxious. What if they tell me that I don't belong ? 7 years in Malaysia
And I still don't feel like i'm in the right place.
"I want to go home"
I say when i'm hanging out with my mates in school.
But truly,
I don't have a home.
Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 11:54 PM UTC
I lived in Pyongyang,
Breathing to be wired to follow my father’s footsteps.
Taught all day the greatness of our homeland.
As a kid, I sunk into their teaching,
But now seen as propaganda through my grown eyes.
I dreamed of leading my own troupe
Into battle, for my great country, to stand with pride
As I was destined to protect it.
Out of grief and sadness
A cry stretched its ways to my ears.
The great leader fell
From swell to nothing well.
I was told we were to go on holiday
In Gyeong-Seong forced to stay.
Moving in and out of it to see the light of day.
No longer blinded from my homeland’s falsehood
Tricks and tactics meant for military
Used against it for my own tranquility.
Oh! The irony.
Now grown up, with a new dream.
I no longer see Joseon the way it used to seem,
I say my story as a North Korean defector in hope,
hope to see better lives for those who reside there.
In my oh so forsaken great homeland Joseon.
Dec 7, 2019
Dec 7, 2019 at 11:09 AM UTC
[Received]
I see you 'active' on the internet.
Don't you sleep?
.
[Sent]
I can't sleep.
It's a cold night.
The mountain wind sent
a loneliness message to my heart.
I feel so all alone...
.
[Received]
Please don't...
You are not alone.
Nobody is alone.
Even when you stood alone
under the dark night sky,
hasn’t the sky
at least stood with you?
.
[Received]
And remember,
there's always a love
that stands somewhere
and always waits for you
in the distance sky...
.
[Received]
Saranghaeyo...
Neomu saranghae...
.
[Me]
Typing a reply...
.
Kanya Puspokusumo
January 19, 2019
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 3:40 PM UTC
I often ask myself why I spend so much time learning another language
Why do I obsess and stress over something by my own will?
What do I have to gain, why do I want to teach and translate this foreign tongue?
Yet every night I force new words into my mind
And it makes me feel so calm and distracted
All my fears and concerns fade away as I take this information into my brain
I see nothing but beauty in every character I write so much so that I often write in the wrong alphabet
To me it's the most perfect and beautiful script
It's like riding a bike for the first time everytime I translate in my mind
The culture and language has found its way into my heart
I've fallen in love with the language like you do a person
Slowly, then all at once
Without understanding at first but slowly uncoiling the wonderful beauty before my eyes
I've found my passion and my saviour all at once
There is power in words which spawn from language
Every new term I learn makes me feel just that much stronger
Enough to feel invincible
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 2:05 AM UTC
Sitting on the window sill of my Chamber,
in a state of dwam.
Zephyrs dance; opened letters on my cherry-wood
gilt-of-gold desk.
News of new Kings and Queens reach my ears;
and I smile, so grateful.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 1:37 PM UTC
I have lost count of how many times
that I have felt so alone
Being on the Earth and walking through
its diverse marketplace
And yet, I find me with a different face
in another life walk
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 10:58 AM UTC
I sit on the rock under the mist
of warm sea-pink spray
The sunrise casts its golden beams
over the hills near and far
Before meeting the murmuring
cascades of rosy enchantment
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
Cherry blossoms rain down, causing
ripples in the still pond
The bamboo stalks begin to whistle
with water that trickles down
weathered rocks. Lotus flowers sail and
swirl pink as shells, white as snow
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
~ ❀ ✾ ❀ ~
My heart will bloom like a lotus
under the summer sun
My petals kissed by passion flames
a languid breeze strokes my lips
The mouth to my heart opens from
mud waters as a crown in light
~ ❀ ✾ ❀ ~
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 2:33 PM UTC
Seoul boy
nice kid, eighteen, from the East
took on the east side
and the west side
story goes,
his mother knew
"much dings"
and his father knew politics, so
"less dings"
his mother was a woman of
words,
spoke of feminists,
spoke of progress,
read many books and
spoke goot engeulish,
"and your job?"
"No, that is your father question."
huh?
his father was a man that
WAS,
ran for a lot and
stood for a lot and
looked far ahead and
above of his head but
never really
seem to
stop? Seoul boy thought,
of Times Square. Times Square.
TIMES SQUARE
everyday, out there
selling shirts that say
"wo-I-NY"
and umbrellas
when it rained.
(and yes, it rained
in the city of dreams)
soft-lookin' kid
hard cash,
best friends with the
homeless "trash", so-called.
"urban campers,"
"friendly locals!"
"fairly loco?"
"lotsa cOcO."
huh.
Seoul boy, working at a
Greenwich pharmacy
first-time paycheck
first-time real job
first-time AC
first-time man ask me
out
there, somewhere
out there.
what?
your home.
my home? yeah.
no. wait what?
this is home
even gay man knew.
even homeless knew.
even Seoul boy knew.
"best place I am live,
'till die."
he said
"best place is
the New York City."
he said
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
Worlds Divided
The war of ideas and on Borders has hence started
How many must die?
Until their eyes clear of foggy and diseased ideals
that they fight and cease as the dead departed?
Life that could have been celebrated instead of insulted?
Provided other suffering lives gifts of ease of such?
Until their diseased and ignorant paths
Spoil the world like a disease
War as a vaccine
Against outdated Ruling Deals?
Pain and suffering are the side effects of this vaccine..
As the World's Generals debate on the true antidote
The smokes and bullets......the words of war....
Provocation...Debates.....Calming Additions of collective warnings...
Until the Medicine is developed right....
A solution can never be allowed to be seen
As we blow to the tides of agravation
Such medicines are scripts of war..
Made to end such blind and diseased violent ideals
in ****** fights.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 3:13 AM UTC
you made me laugh,
you made me smile,
while you were hurting inside
all this while.
i just wish i knew more
when you were still breathing
now all that's left
are our grieving
wherever you are now,
i hope you're happier,
i hope you achieve optimum
i hope your smile is brighter
it will always hurt,
knowing you chose this path
and knowing i couldn't help
nor could anyone do 'nough
kim jong-hyun,
there will not be a day
the world doesn't mourn
there will not be a day
your sacrifice go unseen
there will not be a day
i won't miss you.
rest in peace,
my dear childhood idol,
you did well,
you did well.
Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 3:06 AM UTC
There was a time
when I blocked my face
with two palms,
only to avoid seeing the world.
But the two palms can only block
the world in my eyes,
not the world in my heart.
The world in my heart
is always too big
to be blocked by the palms.
Especially when there is you in it.
You...
smiling and offering the love
that reminds me
to the most delicious
Korean persimmons
in Autumn season.
(Now I start to feel that without you,
Seoul is nothing but an empty city,
and the world is nothing but an empty place).
-Kanya Puspokusumo-
http://doeniadevi.wordpress.com
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 4:15 PM UTC
Foxy natured creature,
An untamable animal,
Kumiho has nine tails.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 1:12 AM UTC
Washingtonians, this Wednesday afternoon, come to the Starbucks on 1600 K Street to become acquainted with some young, interesting, average income level Asian American guys and gals. Instead of meeting Asian American doctors, lawyers, and consultants, you’ll meet Dr. Dre copycats, alcoholic paralegals, and T-Mobile wireless salespeople.
These guys and gals are looking to meet new friends that include: white, black, Hispanic, or any other race of people, just as long as you aren’t a F.O.B. Because after all, they don’t want to perpetuate the stereotype that Asians only hang out with other Asians. Just kidding, we love our F.O.B brothers and sisters! But **** stereotypes.
If you are a Washingtonian who likes drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana, stop by and make a new Asian American friend who will provide mixers and match you on a blunt. Please, do not ask these guys and gals for college study notes for Math or Bio, because all of them have dropped out of college to pursue their artistic passions, like: writing a novel about having a white group of friends and being the token who reads Tolkien and likes Toking; playing electric guitar in a grunge, punk, post-emo garage band with your black buddies who like Fugazi and bad brains but ******* hate Green day for selling out; and drawing sketches and painting portraits of the half-Asian girl you’re dating on a wide canvass, but really you’re secretly into selfies and taking photos of breakfast on Instagram.
We don’t discriminate against the kind of alcohol you drink, whether it be wine, beer, or liquor—within reason please don’t bring Franzia or Rolling rock, this isn’t college anymore. Yes, we get it, you’re highly considering attending this group because you’re a huge Haruki Murakami fan and you’re wondering two questions: are our Japanese American patrons also huge fans of the author, and do our patrons behave in a similar fashion to Murakami’s characters like Toru Watanabe and Toru Okada?
First, our Japanese American patrons are huge fans of Murakami and they own books like Sputnik Sweetheart and The Windup Bird Chronicle, but they also think the author often is obsessed with Western culture, in a way that possibly, and seriously possibly transforms him into a Brett Easton Ellis derivative based on Ellis’s American ****** and Glamorama.
Second, no these particular patrons do not behave like Murakami’s characters, because they’re real, living, breathing human beings, and not some fantasy figure or made-up person! But enough of the rant, please come though and let’s have conversations about jazz and talking cats.
While we respect Asian American actors like Ken Jeong and Randall Park, we really aren’t interested in having a lengthy dialogue about The Hangover’s Asian **** scene, or how Park was kinda offensively funny in The Interview. Although Park is awesome in Fresh Off The boat! All we really want is to just drink jack and cokes and smoke Marlboro lights and have conversations about the latest trends in indie rock and Hip Hop culture, and whether Citizen Kane was better than Casablanca, or vice versa.
At the meeting, we will have our guest speaker Jeremy Lin’s college roommate George Park answer questions about Lin, as well as a special appearance by Steve Yuen’s ex-girlfriend Marcy Abernathy who will give us an inside scoop to Yuen’s fetishes as well as his quirky habits. We will also be providing free snacks like LSD Pho noodle soup and Marijuana Mochi ice-cream. On a serious note, we’ll be giving out guilt-free Twinkies.
Before you arrive at the Starbucks, you’ll be getting a name tag and a free A.A.A T-shirt that wasn’t made by little children from China; instead, the shirts are made by Ronald Mai, our aspiring fashion designer whose twitter handle is @thatsmyshirtwhiteman! If you’re interested in coming out to the group our first meeting is this Wednesday at 6 p.m.
Leave your apprehension at the door and walk in with a warm smile, as you’re greeted by an expressionless face. And phoreal if your car is messed up and you require a ride, please call A.A.A’s number at (202) 576-2AAA (we know we’re phunny). Hope to see you there, and if you don’t come, you’re a ******* racist! But seriously come out and meet some cool *** people.
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 9:47 PM UTC
*Geoura geoura
Jebal jom malhaejuryeomuna
Jeoura neodo malhaejuryeomuna
Amugeotdo bakkul piryo eopsi yeppeudago
Jigeum geu moseup geudaero wanbyeokhadago
Manyang haengbokhamyeon dwae geokjeong eopsi
Bujokhan jeomi mwonji chajgi eopgi
Geoul daesin geunyang nae nun bicceul barabwa
Jeoul daesin nae deung wie ollatabwa bwa
Amuri neol tteudeobwado
Bogo tto bogo tto bwado
Niga malhaneun an yeppeun bubuni eodinji
Geuge eodinji chajeul suga eopseo nan
Jigeumcheoreom manmanmanmanman man
Isseojumyeon nannannannannan
Baralge eopseuni neon amugeotdo
Bakkuji mamamamama
Amu geokjeongmamamamamama
Neoui modeunge dadadada da joheunikka
Neoneun amugeotdo bakkuji mamamamama
Idaero (jigeum idaero) oh (geunyang idaero)
Oh (jigeum idaero) oh oh oh isseumyeon dwae
Ttak joha neoui modeun ge geureoni ne mam
Noha amu geokjeonghaji ma I mal
Baek peosenteu da geudaero mideodo dwae
Modeun geokjeong baek peosenteu da jiwodo dwae
Amuri neol tteudeobwado
Bogo tto bogo tto bwado
Niga malhaneun an yeppeun bubuni eodinji
Geuge eodinji chajeul suga eopseo nan
Oge tido tiga naya chajneun geoji won
Nunbusige biccna binteumi eopsji neon
Nae nune eolmana yeppeunji I want you
Jigeum idaero you’re the only one*
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 6:01 AM UTC
A window flung open with drapes barging into the room,
The sun's smug shine tells my toes that the rest of the world is awake,
And so my eyes make their first journey into today's forever.
Apr 16, 2012
Apr 16, 2012 at 2:11 PM UTC
I dedicate all the songs I love to you.
But the problem is,
Most of them are in Korean and Japanese!
So you seldom appreciate.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
Ms. Cho is so, so sorry
for the unintended worry
and the dreadful social uproar
she created
when she rated
her airline’s services as poor.
But any self-respecting South Korean
would understand the shame
when the macadamias came
not in a china dish
for this salty snack delish
was placed calmly on her tray
the cabin crew would say
resplendent in their jackets
“The nuts are served in packets
vacuum-sealed to keep them fresh.”
Hyun-ah proud and haughty
wagged her fingers, called them naughty
and summoned forth the Chief of all the crew
demanding that he tell her if he knew
if the in-flight rules were being followed
or was it in anarchy they wallowed.
He stumbled and he stuttered
swallowed, then muttered
he’d never thought this matter
was the least bit earth shattering.
“Nuts in a bag, are you insane?
You must be taken off this plane”
True to her word the flight turned round.
Until they landed not a sound
was heard within the cabin of that plane.
He was dropped back at JFK
and after some delay
they made their way again heading east.
But arriving eleven minutes late
Ms Cho had definitely sealed her fate
Notwithstanding Daddy’s power
as the airlines CEO
relations turned quite sour
his daughter forced to go
She lost each and every perk
that accompanied her work
her executive pay
all lost – such is the way.
So, finally in sum
Beware of a Cho tantrum
when you see that charming face
remember she’s a nut case
who in shrill and angry voice
made a devastating choice.
Never change an airline schedule
Never let your plane be late
Never waste expensive jet fuel
Or suffer Ms. Cho’s fate
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 7:53 AM UTC
Purkyně lux lit lunatics conjure vignettes of geomancy.
There is mischief enchanting the wake: xenophagists fiending tricks.
For invokers, who bathe in moonlight, death is a good nights sleep.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
Fingers so beautiful and precious.
They are priceless!
Worth more than diamonds and gold.
Fingers float above a river of piano keys,
Fingers play music that sounds sweeter than bird's song.
Fingers so beautiful and precious.
They are priceless!
God sends His glory of song to these fingers.
Fingers play with much love and devotion for God,
Fingers battle summer's Cicada hum and afternoon fatigue.
Fingers so beautiful and precious.
They are priceless!
Worth more than diamonds and gold.
Fingers of mystery; which bring light, hope and peace to all.
Fingers accept the challenge of writing new song.
Fingers so beautiful and precious.
They are priceless!
Copyright © Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 5:41 AM UTC