My two poems View on the side of the Road and The Doe have been accepted for the Summer printed issue of The Avocet, a journal of Nature Poetry--2022. Thank you, Charles and Vivian for taking these pieces.
–Byung A.
My two poems View on the side of the Road and The Doe have been accepted for the Summer printed issue of The Avocet, a journal of Nature Poetry--2022. Thank you, Charles and Vivian for taking these pieces.
–Byung A.
Flying with the New Songs of the Clouds Being a minimalist, I used to throw a lot of things; caught in the frenzy of moment, some valuables would disappear; then panic, search in every hill and valley, like the mad woman in the dream. The selfie, with the idiotic smile, crumpled and trashed long ago, haunts, jeers: with the original one gone, no way to make another. lost not only the image but the time also, acting on impulse, the echo of the youthhood. Faces suddenly flash, gloat, for had been tossed off, like the wads of useless pieces. a pang in the deep; take a deep breath and smile. They happened for reason, keep them where they were, fly off with the new songs of clouds, and the ghost of failed one will live only in the dream. Change within. ©Byung A. Fallgren

Ocean Water Dasha Kelly Hamilton The ocean pushes back Alive and vigorous The heritage of habitat Leans against expectation Muscles its due respect Without regard Without warning Without reorienting the ones With swimming perspectives Limitations of consistent temperature and painted cement walls The ocean rumbles its sovereignty Full weight of freedom on my skin. Dasha Kelly Hamilton is a writer and performance artist. She is National Rubinger Fellow and currently Poet Laureate for the city of Milwaukee and the State of Wisconsen. In 2021, she received an Academy of American Poets Laureate Fellowship.
Most of Wyoming trees, the lesson (Gogyohka Sequence) in April still asleep shivering in the wind like the children in the war-torn land in May start budding or flowering like just awaken lazy person in a hurry sudden snowstorm blankets the flowering trees shuddering at the unexpected after storm passes dazzling smile Wyoming trees' lesson: face the disaster be patient then rebound ©Byung A. Fallgren


Windy Backyard Wisdom
Winds blow over
the white and green,
cascades from the hill
to the open, rippling in
silver gray, in hopes,
raise them into the air
and blow them away.
But they stay formidable,
roots in the soil,
like the stubborn youths’ will
to keep their land,
rebel against the invaders.
The ripples grow to sea waves,
claw the florets and blades, in vain;
the wings mean to fly,
the roots mean to stay,
like the incompatible lovers.
©Byung A. Fallgren
My six poems appeared in this journal: Spring Pasture; Learning the eyes of Sky,
turtles; Dandelion & Iris; For the Spring Sun; Spring Grass; Spring Tree Song.
Thank you, Charles, Vivian, and Valerie for taking these poems.
–Byung A. Fallgren
Inside me, a family by Ching-In Chen born from small waters. Each night, I look for a paper to feed this first litter from a slow continent. New trappers buy their fetters and hooks, dreaming of new skin to drape. In the sky, a wound like river, opening up again to bird. Neighborhood pushes against seams, dislikes a newcomer. This linked to history and forgetting-- a new gray house like a weed. A monument rises past the window. We sit and drink twice-steeped tea. Ching-In Cheng is the author of Recombinant (Kelsey Street Press, 2017) and The heart's Traffic (Red Hen Press, 2009). A Callaloo, Kundiman, and Lambda Fellow, Assistant professor in the School of Interdisciplinary Arts and Science and MFA in creating and Poetics at the University of Washington.