April 20, 2013 5 new poem 5 old poems Copyright Doug Stuber



Triple Dee
an early light on
dark South Glendale until jazz,

yuppies and taco-stands made
a complete street out of Lee
Hansley’s locale.
We glued, drew,
made work I never

would have thought
to do, except your
infectious verve, love
of colors, insistent push
to pull us

together for art. Does Boone
offer opportunities
so sinfully young?
is what I love, so

I stayed, and
you played along, not many
do. Your luck
is the same as your
children’s: youth need not

be left, dumped
or forsaken if you find
a “young” job:
youthful tuning in
sixteen, C-Major.


She will dart you into dust,
she was thrown at me by Joe
Wabe, she has a
Real need for closeness
Yet tires and bores easily.

Salwa, the
love of her life, gets
easily attached to all
new house friends;
she goes it alone,

sometimes appearing late
night in that loose-fitting top,
or bowling. Lately
serving sexy meals,
Egyptian morsels to fund

into a program that is
changing to the post

Shin era.
Among a growing throng who
have settled
here, so far from home,
but safer: safer

than war torn,
rebellious, terrorists camps,
or millions
of refugees. Kim
Jung Eun is a joke.


Back in Japan, where
he must pace himself
or face the certain aging
of a man fully
drained, depleted each

night by fun-
seeking art fans, or
mere passersby, he
just got a
write-up in an art

magazine based in
Osaka, city
of culture, which means we all
want an entrée under
his umbrella now.

Your women,
your self-taught art, your
Duke-level thinking
pushes late
conversations that

stay frontal
in a world overflowing
with stupid
“philosophers,” rank
hate-mongers. Thus friends

get bonus,
ladies learn more than body’s
viewers take in more
than strong images.


Bunch the usual
ne’er-do-wells into
an alternative
Franklin Street, Chapel
Hill art café, and

presto! For
that brief period
she brought/gave
us the chance to let
it fly, hang it out in the

breeze for all to see,
some to comment on,
few, very few, to
purchase. That marble
effect you gave me

lingers, though
myself far flung to
just under
missile range on this
mountainous peninsula.

Carolina life seems so
happy, yet
only pictures tell
a story that must be

as complex
as you always were back when
we had time
to wander free, be
ourselves, love each other.


Leaf man, branch
collector, and rock
dangler, your feather
network flew to Florida
leaving us

to fend for ourselves.
Carved conceptual
art into
a scene both rigid
and experimental at

the edges.
You are one of the
few who deserves to
“make it,” whatever standard
That means. What

Now mailbox greeter?
ideas to a
once-stale coastline. If nothing

happens here again, we won’t
forget the
fast years you blew through
and tweaked the nose of

once-smug wives
of creepy bankers and land
deal con men.
Now surrounded, are
you at peace, in love?

Chuseok 2008

High heels, shorts and parasols stroll from shop to shop
Perusing protest pamphlets before they let them drop.
Students lounge in luxury, forget the bloody past.
Still barbed fences guard the tower: freedom forced to last.
Cosmos under sycamore feels the silver shine.
Girls in pairs and triplets relax with cold rice wine.
Here they call it Chuseok, Thanksgiving at the graves.
Reverent parents, another chance to teach children to behave.
But by afternoon they’re drunk, lucky traffic’s slow.
A loudspeaker reminds the guests to pay for this year’s mow.
One asks if grandparent’s graves are a long U.S. drive,
I say we don’t even visit parents when they are alive.
Tradition hangs on mandatory days of industry closure.
All time off is gobbled up by familial exposure.
This may be better than the adulterous sneaks back home,
But leaves no time for adventuring minds to roam.
She comes dressed in black, with wings and bangs for hair,
Offering no snack, which stops your questionnaire.
The US occupies Korea for only four more years,
When we leave will it bring happiness or tears?

(PS. The deal for the US Armed Forces to Pull out by 2012 was rescinded in 2010 by Lee Myung Bak after the Choenan Corvette was sunk.)

Communal Land

Hydrated winter
sleet taps, rabbit has no dog
pursuing. Calm rain
soaks chicken
feathers, firewood tarped in blue.

Edible grape leaves
infuse light-spiced rice, rolled out
mini Ho-ho style.
Ladies, two
stark, one open, dig tree holes.

Over cubic foot
of stones go in to deter
moles. Young roots grow right
through them. Ten
years hence pecans sprout protein.

My three closest friends
all lost work. Jane Tyndall closed,
meaning art is dead.
Gather nuts,
consolidate, work the land.

Edo Palace Mix

Takae, so simple, fluttering on the wind of vegetarian
existence, refusing to eat up more than her share,
presenting herself a second time, but finding no taker,
is less than joyous, yet remains so gentle. Two swans
glide, bobbing for minnows, mated for life, fed by ample
moat, seen by hundreds each day. Mostly Takae yearns
to be the swan on the right, head held up, pet of the palace.
Instead, like the sour gooseberry picker, Chekhov’s Nikolay,
she labors at city hall. Better, like the clerk job Kafka had, or
Poe’s daily grind, Takae, so full of wonder, but now resentment
too, as youth slips into middle age with no permanent necker,
glider, lover to snuggle with. Yellow petunias with purple eyes
stretch open to us, and I think that Takae will see this exact
pattern and find comfort having spent a day in Chiba
with friends that will, over time, form a second base.
A dream fulfilled erases previous disappointment. How to
meld dreams into the closeness that supports? Elephant ear
plants glisten under gray. Bamboo rustles, imperial reminder
that one generation can be the foundation of new style, culture,
love, beauty, art, strength, ethics, for centuries to come.

Article 9 a.m.
At nine a.m. this group of twelve waits at Makuhari. 아침 9시에 12명의 이 사람들은 마쿠하리에서 기다리고 있다.
Inside the air-conditioned hall dust floats over chairs. 에어컨이 설치된 홀 안에는 먼지들이 의자 위로 떠다닌다.
Speakers will again insist on peace within and everywhere. 발표자는 다시 한번 이 안에서 그리고 모든 곳에서 평화에 대해 주장할 것이다.
A train leads to a monorail, but the ladies ask “where are we?” 기차는 모노레일로 이끌지만, 여인들은 묻는다, “우리가 어디에 있는 거죠?”

They are asleep, in fear and rage, refusing to take part 그들은 졸린다, 두려움과 분노에 휩싸인 채, 증오의 또 다른 날을 피하려고
or mired in over-studying to avoid another day of hate. 참가하거나 혹은 지나친 공부로 궁지에 몰리게 되는 것을 거절하면서.
But now, alone together, will they realize it’s not too late? 하지만 지금이라도,그 둘이서, 그들은 이것이 늦지 않았다는 것을 깨달을 것인가?
Or will green jealousies again arise to squelch their hearts? 그렇지 않다면, 새파란 질투심이 그들의 마음을 짓이기 위해 다시 한번 생겨날 것인가?

The ladies who are of an age to have seen it all 이 모든 것을 볼 수 있는 나이가 된 여인들은
arrive an hour early so they can sit on the front row. 한 시간 일찍 도착했기에, 그들은 맨 앞줄에 앉을 수 있다.
On day one they waited in the rain, only to be told no. 첫날에는 그들은 빗 속에서 기다렸고, 오직 “싫어요” 라고 말할 수 있게 되었다.
So the main attractions repeated their words out on a grassy mall. 그래서 풀빛의 산책로에서 주가 되는 인기 있는 명사들은 그들의 이야기를 반복했다.

Multitudes flee guns these days, arms never solved a thing. 군중들은 요즘에 총을 피해 달아나고, 전투부대들은 절대 문제를 풀지 못했다.
A new type of globalization erupts when witnesses testify. 새로운 형식의 세계화가 목격자가 증언을 할 때 생겨난다.
A photo or two from Abu Graib is enough to expose the lies. 아부그라이브 감옥에서 찍힌 2개의 사진은 거짓말들을 폭로하기엔 충분하다.
Aiden and Cora speak about what our actions could bring. 에이든과 코라는 우리의 행동들이 무엇을 가져올지에 대해 말한다.

Youth is missing at this event, it’s enough to make you scream. 젊음은 이 일에서 실패하고 있으며, 이것은 당신을 비명 지르도록 하기에 충분한 일이다.
As the earth devolves into war over depleted food and oil 이 지구가 고갈된 음식과 기름에 관한 일을 전쟁에게 양도할 떄
children play at computer games, knowing nothing of the soil. 아이들은 컴퓨터 게임을 한다, 농사에 관한 것은 알지도 못한채.
Optimists persist: we teach, we sing, we hug, we dance, we dream. 낙천주의자는 주장한다: 우리가 가르치고, 우리가 노래하며, 우리가 춤을 추고, 우리가 꿈을

Luo found out about a chance to sing for
Myanmar’s poor. She sang the Jasmine and
Embroidered Wallet from her Hanzhou province.
Her smile bespeaks last hour’s visit, five days
abroad, cradled, swinging, laughing with music
and stabs at Mandarin, while unjealous wives
fix their hair, aware that spoken flow creates
great passion after Manli leaves, the old man
remains. Somehow the spirit of Tang Dynasty
poetry is shy tonight, a new moon, so dark,
hidden by clouds, coolly whistling through
skies visible to beings we don’t know about,
the rabbit is out there, but how can I offer a
hand or a finger, a mouth or a toe to this
late-spring flower who persists, as a human
while cousins wither, and father reminds her
that life’s many sweet moments are tempered
abruptly, even as the reflections shimmer on
the West Lake. They come, she now tells me, to
dance, act, perform, laugh, embrace, renew, live.

어찌된 일인지

루오는 미얀마의 가난한 사람들에 대해 노래 할 기회에
대해 알아냈다. 그녀는 그녀의 항저우로부터 유래한
자스민, 수놓은 지갑을 노래했다.
그녀의 미소는 지난 시간 동안의 방문과 외국에서의 5일,
흔들리는, 요람에 눕던 날들, 음악과 함께 웃던 날들을 보여주고,
중국의 상급관리를 찌른다, 질투심 없는 아내들이
그들의 머리를 고정시킬 동안, 말솜씨가 유창함이
만리가 떠난 후에 만들어내는 대단한 열정을 알고서, 그 늙은이만
남았다. 어찌된 일인지 당나라 시대 시의 혼은
오늘 밤 밝게 빛나고, 새로이 떠오른 달은, 너무도 어둡고,
구름으로 인해 숨겨졌는데, 뻔뻔하게도 하늘을 통해 휙 하고 소리를
내면서 우리가 알지 못하는 존재들에게는 보이는 구나,
토끼는 밖에 있으나, 어떻게 내가
손이나 손가락, 입, 그리고 발가락을 사촌들은 시들어 버릴 동안에
한 인간으로서, 살아남은 이 늦봄의 꽃들에게 줄 수 있을까?
그리고 아버지는 그녀에게 인생의 많은 달콤한 순간들은 갑작스레
가라앉을 수도 있음을 알려준다, 심지어 투영물이 서쪽 강 위로
비추고 있을 때에도 말이다. 그녀는 이제 나에게 말한다, 그들은
춤을 추러, 무대에 서기 위해, 공연을 하기 위해, 웃기 위해, 포옹하기 위해,
새롭게 하기 위해, 그리고 살기 위해 온다고.

2 thoughts on “April 20, 2013 5 new poem 5 old poems Copyright Doug Stuber

  1. Pingback: A poem by Doug Stuber, an old friend, about my time in Raleigh. | G. Alan Stewart

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