(from "An Artist")
An artist is not who's beautiful.
An artist is who makes a mess.
I have a poor mind and always struggled with grasping causality.
Instead of writing, made a mess.
Instead of an artist, became a pathetic fool.
(from "An Intruder")
but it is the process that leads the direction of the result
the choice of words cannot tell everything and the delusion
that you're holding something in your hands makes you most vulgar.
(from "fragments of ennui")
grains of white dust, stickily settled on the void
floundering flies, trapped in the air
red bones and damp wet soil
the black nail, cursing its own death
yellow lumps of fat, morbidly
poured into the drain
the caprice of flies and the malice of spiders
the only things that smile at us
in the void on the blade
the power of anxiety, a deadly greed that melts
the brain, among them, what blue anxiety
likes the most, air and resistance
admiration and contempt, something like love and hate,
something like the foolish youthful heart
toward a beast living only on instinct
ideas and trivial jokes
reality, illusions, delusions, ideals
compassion, denial, turning away, darkness
regret, death, loss, past, faith, distrust, doubt
an empty black mouth like the whitened
cloudy eyes of a turtle
Fire, sea, fall.
the sea, always the abject of fear
not even a handful of void
did the sea allow
(from "Ignorance of a Butterfly")
And ignorance has the mouth that never gets tired nor rests.
Only ignorance is busy with its mouth.
Ah,
my ignorance do pick on me, do ridicule me.
(from “The Willow”) They despised my roots that swallowed fertile earth. Saying my being was from the body that swallowed a sordid, vicious secret.
(from "it was an act of death")
I was in the house
I stayed there
embracing death wasn't only beautiful
'cause it was so hot and my
whole body was shaking
everything suddenly became strange
something was rotting in the stomach
into the mouth
something kept flowing
it was an act of death
death, covered with foolish vice
that was firmly clutching a miserable-shaped apple
I was death
life no longer existed
(from "the flaming stillness")
time flows like water
mother died one day
nights go deeper and deeper
when night comes, every past
and future death comes
along with darkness
and silence
no longer human 'cause
couldn't save the cat while
drifting under the scorching sun
though a boat trapped in hell of stillness
isn't allowed to have a heart,
being soaked in the sea of oblivion
caused committing an indelible sin
tears of the unqualified
are just like
sounds
everything
is just
like cavity
and regret
(from "My Longest Fear")
There were petals on the road
There were fallen leaves also
Stepping on them
I kept walking
Sometimes in the rain
Sometimes in the snow
I kept walking
One day
I turned around
There was nothing
I might keep walking
Again, turned my head around
And everything was a muddy mess
My longest fear is
The brightest light for me
The deepest darkness in me
So I walked again
But couldn't move on
(from "the red rooms")
in front of my house,
there is a street lined with red rooms
out there are the prurient
with lewd hearts
devils are ceaselessly thrashing within them,
mistaking sordid selfishness for wisdom.
(from "One Late Spring Afternoon")
A smell of grilled fish
A scent of approaching summer mixed with dirt
A tiny fly hanging on the inside of a screen door
An empty screen door, a little later when I look back at
Silly lyrics of a popular song
A flow of lethargy instead of vitality
One late spring afternoon that makes everything feel meaningful