Ideas, Inspirations and Random Notions


Please help. Anything will be appreciated.
Have a great day.


The Artist

The deliberate stroke of brush dipped in yellow paint,
is yellow until it crosses another, a vivid blue line.
,Fresh (the artist can tell by the smell,)
then yellow’s green until the brush runs dry.

~Kyunghwoan Keith Min


Glazed in one shade of gray,
Each block, eliciting oblivion,
Thrusts itself across borders
Assertively, Vigorously
and asserts its lack of vigor,
Until lines blur around me and
Drowsiness swallows it whole:
that’s all I could recall
when something struck me
and I awoke among tired faces
waiting for the green light.

~Kyunghwoan Keith Min

“The unburied dead are covered by the sky.”

—   VII, 819, Pharsalia by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus

Come Take Me

Part One.

I remember a time when
I would dream.
Or dreams took me.

With no choice between
the boogeyman,
and a land of infinite wonders.

An elusion from who I am,
or who I seem to be awake.
So I closed my eyes,

And that was my escape
into reality. Though,
I did fear time and again.

Because I never know,
Luck is a loyal friend
but mischievous too.

So I wished time and again,
but had no choice, for Dream took me
in the blink of my eye.


Part Two.

But Dream deserted me,
as did Childhood.
(so my Dream came true) with the passage of time.

But Dream left me and Reason took over.
The shackles of society
in which we boast.

Life defined by rationality
and geometric lines that
I can bend no longer like children do.

So I close my eyes,
and wish time and again,
for Dream to snatch me one last time.

So I close my eyes,
and look for the Dream I lost,
In the passage of time.
In the passage of time.

~Kyunghwoan Keith Min

He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven by W. B. Yeats

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Quote: Duck-Boat (On the subject of purpose)

You can be anything, but not everything. Cars operate on land, and boats, only in a body of water. A boat would tip over if it was laid on solid ground. Except for duck-boats, if you’re a duck-boat you can do anything.

Tiananmen Square

Like cherries under a cherry tree,
Splattered to each scarlet smudge.
The smeared blood-stain
         on CONCRETE FLOOR,
Begins to flood the EARTH.

Composed by Keith Min.

An excerpt from The Road Ahead or The Road Behind by George Moriarty.
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