Trees of November
Trees of November/Michael Kwack
The season deepening,
Trees become more beautiful;
And thus in November
I come to the woods most often.
Seeing the trees over and over,
I lose my heart more and more;
And soon we become friends,
Or even lovers.
Then, before being aware,
Imitating those trees,
I spread my arms,
And stand upright, ...
Saturday 2nd December 2023 5:45 pm
The House Imperishable
The House Imperishable
-At the Empty Site of Van Gogh’s Yellow House
Was it that he ever knew,
After his death
His house would perish, too?
Or was it that he ever wished,
After his death
His house would be a reminder of him?
Oh! So much had he longed, after death,
As to take it to that picture for good!
Friday 21st July 2023 4:30 pm
A Candle-lit Night
A Candle-lit Night / Michael Kwack
A candle alone
cannot brighten a whole house;
A torch alone
cannot brighten a whole night.
With a single lantern
a dark desert cannot be walked on;
With a single starlight
the universe cannot be flown through.
But beautiful is a star-filled night sky.
And beautiful too, in the dark,
is the hand, with a wavering...
Tuesday 27th June 2023 7:42 am
Detour
DETOUR by Michael Kwack
At a crossroads today, my friend,
I again drove in the wrong direction.
On roads well-known and often driven,
Especially when I am alone,
This occurs more frequently.
If I forget my destination, I think,
Probably certainly it means
I am not willing to go that way,
Or rather willing to go
Somewhere else in my mind.
But life has only one destinati...
Monday 19th June 2023 3:54 am
A Strange Journey
A Strange Journey/Michael Kwack
Entering a souvenir store on the road,
I realized I’d lost my luggage.
The wallet was well-kept in my back pocket;
But money for the remaining days,
And passport, business cards, party clothes, etc.,
All were in that suitcase I'd lost.
I didn't remember
Which roads I'd been walking along,
And at which store I'd let go of that trunk.
I turned...
Wednesday 3rd August 2022 7:12 am
The Flower One Day
The Flower One Day / Michael Kwack
While I was not out,
The flower bloomed.
That will fall,
While I do not look,
The flower of love.
One day,
Suddenly,
The heart will fall.
Tuesday 6th July 2021 1:50 am
The Thorn
The Thorn / Michael Kwack
It seemed a big bird had flown;
For, onto the desk of my own,
A feather was falling,
Through the air fluttering.
As if in a dream did I gaze:
A tiny bird it was!
I stretched an arm,
And the bird got on my palm.
The whole body, in bright gold,
Was the wing of this bird.
Should I hold it on my palm?
Let it go afloat in...
Wednesday 17th March 2021 2:06 pm
letter to spring
letter to spring / michael kwack
in a wind
there i smell a scent of spring
i've passed the winter away
in a far place alone
but it was now
only hours of emptiness
i've got to write letters
the last confession to myself
then meet the spring
in complete quietness
Thursday 25th February 2021 11:05 am
Résumé
Résumé / Michael Kwack
Love is, like art,
dull without passion.
Marriage is, like enterprise,
vain without fortune.
Home is, like a chair,
awkward without comfort.
Life is, like sleep,
hollow without a dream.
Death* is, like a letter,
absurd without a story.
*Death means suicide.
Thursday 7th January 2021 4:43 pm
Play in the Night
Play in the Night
--Michael Kwack
From two o’clock
When owls hoot
Up to four when cocks crow
Surely I will be kept awake,
To watch the secret play
Of the conscious and unconscious.
However, I will not see
The queer performance inside me
As a mere dream in the night.
If I long for better plays,
More will I wander dur...
Tuesday 29th December 2020 3:20 am
Putting Out the Lamp
Putting Out the Lamp
In the dusk of early evening one day
I awakened from a belated nap,
And came to find nobody back home yet,
Only the wall lamp flickering away.
I, the child, quickly getting quailed,
Started running away from the dark haunted place,
But soon stopped for looking backward
For some reasons I couldn't quite grasp.
Probably it was the left-a...
Tuesday 15th September 2020 2:36 pm
Sad dreams
Was it true,
sleep depends on tears?
To refill the well
that had dried up by day,
Or to wet the lids, at the least,
by dreaming sad dreams,
With that tearful hope,
had the sleep come by night?
Sunday 26th July 2020 10:40 am
A Pilot's Joke
A Pilot's Joke / Michael Kwack
Once upon a time, there lived a flying man
Who kept flying on, never thinking of landing...
One day accidentally he had to land
Somewhere, or nowhere, on the sand...
After having lived alone very happily ever after,
He left a poem in the sand when he finally left his land;
Quote,
I used to love sand,
For, where ther...
Saturday 18th July 2020 3:34 pm
To Summer
What springs up in spring
All falls in the next fall;
Summer sums
All the fruit we have,
And says we are rich,
Not having to worry
Where and how to winter.
Sunday 12th July 2020 1:57 pm
Birth of Octave
Dominoes are hanging, like 88 wind-chimes, inside a
Record shop window; whereinto an old Irish priest, once a dreamer of becoming
Michelangelo, or Liszt the virtuoso, today called
'Father Manyon,' is gazing, recalling the scented
Solitary pine, on the hillside of his home town; whereunder he used to recite
La Belle Dame sans Merci, often so much wishing to
See the pale sighing ...
Thursday 9th July 2020 3:02 pm
A Perfect Afternoon
Leisurely and alone,
I was wandering in the museum garden.
Flowers were completely gone,
But deep green summer leaves fully grown,
And on each branch
Small birds all the way chirping:
Certainly for me a perfect afternoon
To be seated still and calm,
To be lost in poem-reciting!
But suddenly a wind arose
When a human voice caught my ear,
Saying low ye...
Thursday 2nd July 2020 5:24 pm
Arrows of Rain
On the empty wall of my room
I think I'll put a picture of the rain. --
Hitting the ground,
And getting up to ankles,
The rain will be wetting my socks
And trousers from below;
Then my eyes will follow
Roof-edges,
Streets,
Sidewalks,
...tick, tick, tick...
Everything in the picture,
Until catching a black brolly,
And the shiny enamel shoes...
Saturday 27th June 2020 7:47 am
The Poor Little Dove
The Poor Little Dove/Michael Kwack
To watch the wave play with the wind,
I sat by the museum garden pond.
Then a small pigeon came flying,
Landed to her feet, tiny and cute,
And stared up at me, a bit intensely,
Only blinking her eyes, no other move.
She was like a camera model baby,
And I recalled my infanthood pictures.
I started taking some ph...
Thursday 25th June 2020 11:55 am
a note
a word
whispered
in secret
a name
dropped
there-after
a woman
reflected
there-over
The transparent sunlight
stirred by her
thin fingers
Friday 19th June 2020 4:55 pm
Rain and Balloon
Raindrops are laughing,
Falling,
Like cherry
Blossoms,
Onto the garden
Pond
I am alone
Floating on,
A little cooling the warmth
Of summer morning;
As if flying
Big sky balloons
Of birthday party ...
Monday 15th June 2020 3:11 pm
Recent Comments
Red Brick Keshner on Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh
40 minutes ago
TobaniNataiella on Man With the Big Set of Keys.
1 hour ago
John Marks on POLICING THE LANGUAGE
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The War on the West
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I Will Not Wear The Baggy Trousers Of Old Age.
3 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on I Will Not Wear The Baggy Trousers Of Old Age.
3 hours ago
David RL Moore on The last laureates
5 hours ago
Tom Doolan on If Only
5 hours ago
David RL Moore on The War on the West
6 hours ago
Sunshine on A Knight's Resilience
6 hours ago