My pen stumbles through Illinois, joking with bus stops about coming home. Taking photographs of roadsides (waiting for our skin to appear there). Touching the shifter, tentative as the flat of some field rips holes…
Browsing Category Poetry
Mid-Autumn, Enjoying the Moon by Hyesim
If the luminous moon were a jade bead, it could be stolen by those with power or position. If the moon’s wheel-light on the water were taken as a pearl, could it reflect on…
Instead of Heaven or Earth, I Answer by Hyesim
There are 10,000 distinctions and 1,000 differences among matter— they all follow occasions of fancy. If one abandons this discriminating mind what forms of matter are unique? Poetry of Hyesim Translated by: Ian…
Pure Pond by Hyesim
Colder than melted ice it glistens: a newly-ground mirror. The pond’s one pure mood easily reflects 1,000 shadows. Poetry of Hyesim Translated by: Ian Haight Image by: Jun Takeuchi
Replying to Chon, Serving the 4th Grade of Government by Hyesim
You went to the castle markets, and I to the sea-blue mountain— no matter how briefly we met, there was no disharmony. The earthly life of temples and cities has both black nights and bright…