Gray Morning Light

the gray light 
of the morning
let it 
touch you
with a healing hand

© Byung A. Fallgren

What Insomnia Conjures

Ongoing sleep disorders
pluck the memories;
dilutes judgments.
the email from the publisher smashes my head:
“Although your book is written deftly and engagingly,
we can’t accept your book because
it has already been published elsewhere.”

Alas, I’ve forgotten about the poetry collection that
I had sent to the publisher six months before,
and self-published it at Amazon.

“If you have a manuscript that has not yet been published,
I want to see it,” she says.
O, yes, I will. I hurry to pick up poems from the old pile;
it takes time; editing; proofreading, etc.

Try to forget the unlucky collection; despite its beauty,
it is destined to be buried in a dump, unless…
I’ll pick it up, in my bosom, give it a warm bath, and
dress it in wonderful words before sending it to
a contest judge? Or, else.

©Byung A. Fallgren

In Reading & Writing at 3 AM

Hearing him babble in my 
half-asleep: "Out of pay the bill."
What does it mean?
The face of the young man appears
in my head: the young plumber with a smiley face.
Of course, we'll pay when he sends the bill.
What does it have to do with you? 

Are you implying that he is you? you
the usual demon-lazy ghost?
You are using the hard-working man to disguise you.
Not too bad. If that is your wish, wish means:
you wish you were him, not a demon-lazy ghost.
To encourage you to morph, even a bit of fragrance,
I will give you some, not much.

I must add: I cannot afford your demand:
I am frugal to the bone and soul. 

©Byung A. Fallgren
  
  

My two Haiku are included in this week’s journal.
Thank you, Charles and Vivian, for taking the pieces.

–Byung A.