April 27,2013 II, Two new Ones, Two old Ones,Copyright Doug Stuber

AB

He organizes
volunteers for Sung Bin, the
orphanage
for girls, young women
here in Gwangju. Former man

with “wheels to the stars,”
everyone feels his
presence when
he enters a room.
Often a room to

raise money for yet
another cause, or quaffing
water at
Alleyways, he’s a
miracle in shades, glad to

be here. He caught the
Gwangju spirit and
volunteers
as both thank you and
diligence, thus a

carrying-
card Gwangjuvian, is one
of two I
know who lost daughters.
Such unexpected

sadness was
debilitating only
a short time,
smoothly he returned
to cheer us all up.

SRC

Her mane, that
of a Chow Chow, and
DSL beauty
that defines
modern Korea,

walks into Kino
on her birthday, no less, to
celebrate via
videos
of old music stars

she hardly
knows. If the place had
been full she
and her friend
may have stayed longer,

but she’s on to you
and that’s unusual in
a place where square has
a quantum
definition, the

layers of
which can be hidden by light
blue mini
skirt, open
philosophy, then

exposed first
by nondrinking status, then
confirmed as
banter meant to spark
pushes out the door.

><><><><><><><><

New Above,Old below

><><><><><><><><

Does one blushing smile,

innocent in its attempt

to say hello and

good-bye at

once qualify as

poetry?

Or must there be some

philosophical

underpinning that

jumps to the fore?  Peace

means adult red face

as an opportunity

to blossom, and a

restaurant

where time is itself

worth noting

on this bloody earth,

starved, parched, war-torn tears

flowing, cruelty-

filled type of planet.

So if you’re

munching on plastic chairs at

some seven

eleven, able

to watch life flow by

for an hour,

imagine just how good you

have it, when

in front of backdrop

that’s not so easy.

><><><><><><><

Dark mountain causes
purple fog
minutes away from
being burned away
as assorted insects use

legs to chirp morning
calls in shady breeze
that soon yields to heat
that welcomes
blanket picnics and

daring lovers to
disrobe just
meters off beaten
path on Sunday in
homage to the creator.

Earlier two girls
crossed paths three times with
the man: bus, store, street.
Laughing at
coincidence, they

just miss a
fourth, which would have caught him full
thrust with
his adventuresome hot
baby-doll. But, just

as they might
have heard the two, a pheasant
squawked, flew low
overhead, scared the
two, who ran away.

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