At the Sunflower Field

~ Byungafallgren ~ 2 Comments 
At the sunflower Field

The farmer
charged you $15
for picking some flowers.

You, smart one, picked more than 
the flowers: the songs, smiles of 
the jovial gathering of the strangers.

In the sea of the giant blossoms,
no broken hearts of seagulls;
you can only smell the scent
of the waves;
and the day ebbs.

©Byung A. Fallgren

In the Moaning of Moon

~ Byungafallgren ~ 2 Comments 
In the Moaning of Moon

Stealthily, CO2 level rises everyday,

so does the greenhouse effect, and more.

Earth, like elderly woman pants.

sweats, feverish.

Trees breathe in CO2, as the girl coughs.
She watches the moon, worrying
for her dog suffering from skin dieses;

She wants to know why the dog's 
condition worsens despite all the care.

You must use sun-block lotion, she says
to her pet. The moon moans. The girl and
the dog don't know why the moon is sad,
but the Earth knows;
she shivers in fear of what would happen
if more forests disappear;
if factories emit more CO2,
as if the leaves of our senses are falling
in the wind. Moon kisses on the trees,
the leaves that wouldn't fall, lest CO2 level
creeps up when they are gone; Haning on
to the trees till the next spring;
till the new leaves appear; new vigor.

©Byung A. Fallgren

July

~ Byungafallgren ~ 2 Comments 
July

Two big days:
his birthday and Daughter's 
wedding anniversary; two road trips,
and the half of the year gone;
like the daylilies' bloom.

Boiling heat,
frog on the lily pad meditates;
as the thunder growls 
in the dark clouds, with no drops;
rains of the man on the street. 

©Byung A. Fallgren

The Music of Beauty

~ Byungafallgren ~ Leave a comment 
The Music of Beauty
 James Nack

To me thy lips are mute, but when I gaze
upon thee in thy perfect loveliness,-- 
No trait that should not be-- no lineament
To jar with the exquisite harmony
of beauty's music, breathing to the eyes,
I pity those who think they pity me;
who drink the tide that gushes from thy lips 
unconscious of its sweats, as if they were 
E'en as I am--and turn their marble eyes 
upon thy loveliness, without the thrill 
that maddens me with joy's delirium. 

James M. Nack was born in 1809 in New York, New York.
In 1827, he became the first deaf American to publish 
a book, with the release of The legend of the Rocks, 
and Other poems, published by E. Conrad. 
He died in 1879.