lips to water
lips to water
tongue to flame
to sink the seine
and seek the fame
walking home
in all the hours
two dollar flowers
sweet and sour
are you poison
or a person
or a prison
or a prism
I’m in the grass
I’m in the grass
It is April and there are many flowers around us. We walk outside to look closely and smell then we disinfect the bottoms of our shoes. The most popular currency these days is health advice. The thought of “coin” feels like it’s from a different lifetime. I watched an astrologer’s video on instagram who said Saturn who rules everything 3 dimensional is making big moves. It certainly is strange to have a feeling of caution around being a 3rd dimensional being.
I’ve been unaware of the accumulation to say the very least. The exasperating impatience of trying to untie the mysteriously knotted shoelace is there and was always there.
“Moreover, not the king alone, but all the members of his court played in their lives symbolic roles, determined not by their personal wishes but by the game rules of a ritual pantomime of identification with heavenly bodies- very much as in the earlier primitive stages of human cultural mutation the rituals had been imitative of the animal species or of the life and death cycles of plants…
It is silly, therefore, to say, for example ‘let’s take off our masks and be natural’ And yet- there are masks and masks. There are the masks of youth, the masks of age, the masks of various social roles, and the masks also that we project upon others spontaneously, which obscure them, and to which we then react.”
(Myths to Live By, Joseph Campbell)
This last year, I lived in Korea by myself. It was my first time to be there without my mom and I felt excruciating pain observing myself in the center of my largest attachment and ego assignment. I have an endless obsession with the past of Korea. It is endless because there is almost no proof of the past left on the land. My English students became the masters of my Korean culture education. I lived through another adolescence working in the hagwon too. The smelliest part of my fridge was my devotion to trying to make myself look like I always knew what I was doing. It’s a rotten feeling antic.
In certain moments, the weight of a feather peeks in through the tired muscles of shape shifting. I can see now, everyone is going through their own cleaning rituals too and together at the same time. I think that’s beautiful. I am celebrating with my deh towel.
dirt is matter out of place dirt is matter out of place dirt is matter out of place
send a kiss by wind to face
check your pockets check your luggage
today’s treasure is yesterday’s garbage
do you eat from fear or hunger
desire for sweet tastes getting stronger
pick the old leaves from the new
washing well with thunder’s dew
warping tuning the ether’s shaking
many laws our smiles are breaking
