(by Byung A. Fallgren. Photo by Collin A. Maag.)

At the end of day, a pile
of laundry waits in the corner
I feed them to the machine
toss them into the dryer
embrace the warm and clean ones
into my open arms, sniffing the scent
that reminds me of new motherhood
of the joy and wonder
of the time long gone
Thank the fresh scent dryer sheet
for the sweet memory
leads to the woman who birthed me
on the day of long gone December,
the serene face as Virgin Mary’s
chides me for staying up so late
I’ll get a taller tree this year
just so it’ll reach the women
in heaven a few feet closer

(by Byung A. Fallgren)

In my youth
I often felt as though
I had stumbled into
an unexpected place
like a rabbit in wonder land
sort of lost and depressed,
wandered in the deep forest
infested with brain-eating bacteria
Doggedly I’d pursue the glitter
between the trees that seem closer
yet untouchable like stars,
regret for the wasted time,
In bitterness, I’d nurse a bottle of beer,
brooding then shake it off,
emerge with an insight
that helps me move on.

(by Byung A. Fallgren)

Outside the window
snowflakes mimic
the rain upon the soul
hoping we can reconcile
our differences
north and south
see ourselves in the face instead
of peripheral vision from afar,
say I love you
Roses on the wall
expel the winter blue,
fly on the invisible wings
to imbue the strangers and enemies
with holiday spirit, for we can
coexist in peace
as the land and ocean
like the stars in the galaxy,
wishing the rosy holidays

The above painting is one of my old paintings I did on the side of portrait.
It’s been a quite a while since I stopped painting, but I still remember
the technics.  I should’ve kept on painting.  Well, I might take up the old
brushes and start doing it again.  The painting had no title, but now I call
it “Rosy holidays.”  I wish you, my friends and everyone, Rosy holidays!

(by Byung A. Fallgren)

We don’t need
to sacrifice the lambs
to catch the wolf disguised
in sheep’s clothing
among the herd

*
The needless conflict
of confused dreams
The fallen stars in the flame
of perished hope
The zombies
of hypocrisy
of oxymoron
trying to revive the dead
in graves
Silent plea of innocent children
echo the cry of a raptor
in the calm morning sky
Repeating the regrettable
history is foolish

(by Byung A. Fallgren)

They chant in ritual dance
behind the green drapes
of tender regard
let the memories stir
eyes closed
minds open
complying to the time
Disturbed by the world affairs
in the storm
the ancients chant and dance
in the deep earth
to bring the goodness and expel the evil
for the descendants and all
Distant cries of a raptor
lulls the spirit and
they know everything will be in order
Their chant echoes
in the valley of memories
in the minds of loved ones
They chant their eternal love

© by Byung A. Fallgren

We are what we see
what we think
what we believe
we indulge ourselves
in the art we create

(by Byung A. Fallgren. Image by Anna Fallgren)

Snowflakes jitter
around the street light
before touching the ground
They weep on the wet pavement
reflect the glittering orange
resemble the sunset glow
in my heart of cascading blue
Mountain of hard work
seem trite effort
despite his promising words
Success isn’t all there is to life
Money shouldn’t define success
Alter ego scolds me for being in blue
Our soldiers are dying in foreign land
Homeless are suffering in the cold
Everyone endures blue now and then
except some lucky ones
With him on night shift
I walk over a friend’s for a chat
chase away the nefarious blue
Winter night deepens in silence
embracing the worries
Bid a goodnight to all the sufferers
of this blue winter night
dream bright

(by Byung A. Fallgren)

Golden leaves
Ripened seeds
redeem
what’s lost
in the first frost

Grand kids’ photos
Anticipation for
holiday gathering
redeem
her winter blue

During winter I often suffer from the winter blue.  I looked
around to find some solution without medication and found
some pleasant photos to look at.  Nature photos, especially,
grandkids’ photos are always pleasing.  Who doesn’t? I’ll see
them at the family gathering for Thanks Giving.  🙂

(by Byung A. Fallgren)

Clouds of the sins
brood in the twilight
Let them all be absorbed
into the setting sun
be purified as the Earth shifts
rise before the morning sun
as mists of cleansing
upon the impure souls
Sunset glows
as if a precious moment of the day
reminds the forgetful
before bidding a goodnight
We are thankful
for the gift of the day
With the twilight we retire
to our rooms
dream of the morning
in its eternal sunbeams

(by Byung A. Fallgren. Photo by Collin A. Maag.)