Vichara

Who am I?

Mist and breath.

Who am I?

A ghost in a shell. 

Who am I?

Hey! 

Who's asking?

Don't know:  neti, neti, neti. 

Whoever it is, he's some kind of crazy painter. 

Hey!

Who are you painting, there, Michael?

I once asked a Sunim: what's the sound of one hand clapping?

"Don't tell him, Subha."

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Seoul

Downtown Jinju on a Thursday night.
Floating down the sidewalk.
Looking for A/V cables.
Who built this city, claustrophobic and dirty?

A vision of Seoul, two thousand years ago:
Han river people.
They are bamboo and grass.
They are Sun and Earth.

I must go to ancient Seoul.

Morning

Oh lovely lovely world there is no hot and no cold and full of colorssymbolsshapes and meaning that has meanings for real for real for real  and I am the start, the end, the star the actors, the stage the lights the lighting and the ocean forever forever forever moving swaying, glimmer and glittering so full so full but draining draining draining and I know what's coming.

I'm waking.

Mind is coming.

Me is coming.

Body is coming,

Oh no.

The Kooks

The kooks are partying out in the cold.
It's almost twelve.
And fucking freezing!

Silence

Silence is a song.
Listen close, and you can hear the singing.
A thousand angels combine their voice
like weaving silk with golden thread.