FAMILIAR

the celebrated mr k comes round for lunch
usually he performs his tricks on saturday
but today is an exception
fireseed dons apron for the first time in quite a while
and rustles up a bean and tomato salad
and tofu and bean curry
on a bed of couscous
mrs f pitches in with some vegetable pancakes
and some fried potatoes
we wash it down
with a few gulps of australian shiraz cabernet
suitably fed
mr k takes a seriously good look at our new computer
soon he's downloading this, that and the other software
which will turn this beast of a machine
the heart of my music studio
into a true powerhouse!
one thing he sadly can't do is recover my lost photos and songs
but i have long since mentally resigned myself
to losing them anyway
hannah e and i walk mr k to the bus stop
through the puddled streets of mangwon
the rain has returned after a two-day break
the changma hangs suspended...
for the first time in ages
i talk down the blower to my little bro
john geoffrey
three years my junior
a sweet and intelligent boy
if a little temperamental at times
unfortunately the poor lad is in agony
he can't sit up and he can't lie down
he put his back out yesterday
doing a bit of light lifting
and woke up this morning
stiff as a proverbial board
he has spent the last two years renovating a house
buying to resell
to get onto the property ladder
it has been a labour of love
he has landscaped the garden
repaired the exterior
done up the interior
all practically singlehanded
i take my hat off to him
i am proud of his practical nature
particularly as putting up a shelf
presents me with a major challenge
it is going to be good to catch up
spend a bit of time with him
after six long years away
hannah loves her funny uncle johnny
she talks about him a lot
funny uncle tells me he's just started dating a 21-year-old
he turns 36 on tuesday
i guess that's what you could call good going!

BLOGLET

night ride with sweet hannah e
the smell of rain in the air
we ride off just as the first droplets start falling
we cruise through the tight grid of streets
that is mangwon
occasional diagonals and windy bits
throw a pleasant element of unpredictability into the mix
though t'is after 10
the streets are full of human traffic
in this city that never sleeps
couples
friends
families
kids
youngies
oldies
street vendors
the market is still in full swing
bright neon signs light our way
i will miss this homely atmosphere
so different from the dark lonely empty streets of england

WEATHER REPORT

well there it is
another one in the can
a track i've managed to nail in just three days
though it's taken me a while
to get round to recording the blighter!
so much easier
now that i got my streamlined new computer system
up and running (almost) smoothly
a chaos of newsreader voices for an intro
a distorted wahwah pedal riff demands attention
a deep rumbling bass line joins in
a low vocal scrapes out the bottom of the song
moaning about stuff
as is my wont on substantial portions of this album
hence the 'elephant in the room' title
but it's not all moaning
there's plenty of joy in there too
if you listen out for it...
holy days
everything slows down
i realise just how tired i am in body and in mind
it only really hits me
when the daily grind temporarily ceases
and i stop to smell the roses
so what's been going down since the last blog?
lie-ins and breakfasts
bike rides and playgrounds
recording for the album
a nice family get-together over at my mother-in-law's
to celebrate her birthday
a not-so-nice marathon in the dentist's chair
prepping my gob for a mega-sized gold crown
that's gonna make me worth kidnapping
the weather has slowly fallen apart since sat-a-day
that gorgeous sun and lively breeze up on the terrace
those crystal clear views over to the magic mountain
are not quite as vivid on sunday
and by monday afternoon
they have been gobbled up by the heat haze
though a spectacularly bright crescent moon and star
decorate the heavens that night
placed there just like a moslem emblem
then yes-a-day it clouds over
and today the seasonal rains arrive
just in time for midsummer's day
the summer solstice
which evokes magical twilight scenes of forest nymphs
but never quite seems to live up to it in reality!
weirdly today's weather makes my ankles swell up
like an old woman's
or like a sockless individual
attacked by a plague of mossies
tomorrow we are meant to be going away
for a few days at a secret location in the countryside
but the omens ain't looking good
hannah's got an eye infection, sore throat and fever
and as for the changma
looks like it might have set in for a while
watch out for the next weather report...

AWNING

a hot hot day in seoul
our rooftop beckons again
last saturday morning
your fireseed got badly sunburnt
did i tell you how our luvly roof umbrella
either got nicked or blew away one night?
this morning
i get the idea of putting up a makeshift awning
(dig that for a rhyming couplet)
using an old exotic-smelling sheet
of multicoloured paisley fabric
which i bought in india
i tie two of the corners to a couple of rusty old nails
banged high up into the cement of the rooftop storeroom
i tie long pieces of string to the other corners
and attach them to the edge of the parapet
and hey presto!
we have shade
despite the heat
an occasional gust of wind whips up
catching the awning
making it billow like a sail
it comes loose a few times and i have to refix it
but eventually it is all rigged up successfully
a little bit of exotic colour
flapping about among the staid rooftops of mangwon
hannah elisabeth and i have breakfast
i read my book
i nod off
lazing on a sunny afternoon

ADDICT

zoltan surveyed the scene through the window
and comtemplated the meaning of his existence
absent-mindedly picking through
the mental debris of his life
as he stared through the broad rectangle of transparent glass
something dawned on him
zoltan's best ideas
always bubbled to the surface this way
inspired by the fleeting ever-changing images
flying like darts through the portal
thoughts that he scribbled down fast
in his spidery shorthand
filling up his pocket 'pleasure notebook'
the bus swerving and swaying
as the driver careered along like a maniac
almost venomously pumping the brake
and sending passengers sprawling
zoltan had his preferred seat
right at the back of the vehicle
on the left-hand side
perched there up high on his kingly throne
he could take in the other passengers
as they got on, sat down, got off
he loved checking out what was going on
and what was going down
with these foreign strangers
he even had a preferred seating position
facing inwards towards the pavement
allowing him an almost 360 view of his surroundings
a retrospective vista
through the wide rear window
a panoramic cinema screen
that morning
as he sat there taking in the sights and sounds
as the bus sped through the morning traffic
it dawned on zoltan
that his life seemed to revolve entirely around addictions
obsessions and compulsions that were hard to control
an addiction to the strong sweet aromatic coffee he drank
an addiction to the deep red shiraz he sipped alone
late at night after another exhausting day
an addiction to solving the onrushing management issues at work
an addition to the recognition and appreciation
that seemed so hard to find
an addiction to pampering his dishevelled ego
an addiction to the svelte exotic beauties
who anonymously shared his bus journey
or swayed lithely along the hot pavements
displaying their shapely brown legs
a compulsion to give shape to his thoughts
to get them down on paper before they slipped silently away
disappearing into the ether
in poetry or prose
or in the form of vivid pastel colour
an obsession with capturing a slicing rhyming couplet
a haunting melody
preserving it in harmonic chloroform
imprisoning it inside its rhythmic cage
suddenly zoltan looked up
awoken from his reverie
as the bus neared his stop
he lurched unconvincingly toward the exit door
still clutching his pleasure notebook
his pen behind his right ear
he leapt from the blue bullet
and headed for his next caffeine hit

VIEWS & ROSES

enough of the clumsy allegories
a fresh new day dawns
i roll out of bed at five
potter up to the roof to survey the cityscape
the sun glints off the 63 building
which rises three score storeys from yeouido island
the green-domed roof of the national assembly building
breaks up the chaotic square-edge skyline
we've been pretty lucky with our views of capital cities
mrs fireseed and i
when we lived in london
we got a flat on the top floor of a six-storey student hall of residence
on a rise between king's cross and islington
i remember first colliding with the view from this eyrie
our ivory tower
it was late at night
at the end of an exhausting day
driving up from the south coast with a van full of stuff
suddenly a panoramic night view of the london skyline
was laid out before our blinking eyes
the london eye
the houses of parliament
the gothic hulk of st pancras station in the foreground
some view!
i head back down
to spend a few precious minutes
watching hannah elisabeth sleeping peacefully
before she awakes on this enchanted morning
sk in june is lovely
the warmth before the rains
before the humid heat of high summer
the roses are almost over
frazzled by the fierce noonday sun
i get burnt quite badly on saturday morning
just having brekky on the roof
and strumming on my geetar for an hour
before the sun is even properly up
the early morning and evening are the time to be out
mad dogs and englishmen and all that!
yesterday evening
after a game of footy
i take a lovely dip in the embassy pool
sit sipping a cool beer
looking out over the ambassasor's garden
stopping to smell the roses
no guns!

WASHED AWAY

once there was a tranquil refuge
nestled in a fertile valley
watered by cool mountain rivers
shaded by enchanted forests
birdsong greeted the rising sun
through the air floated peach blossom
the woods were home to exotic beasts
the fish leapt high from silver streams

but a people settled on the land
they built their houses and their farms
they built their mines and their factories
they felled the trees and replaced them with chimneys
the sun beat down upon the earth
the withering crops began to burn
the farmers begged and prayed for rain
the larders were running low on grain

oh arboretum
garden of morning calm
your cascades of crystal water
your forests of shady paths

the lakes and rivers began to run dry
children grew sick and babies died
a chemical cocktail filled the air
people wrung their hands in despair
the soothsayers warned of impending doom
the leaders declared 'business as usual'
the people were confused not knowing what to think
as their civilization approached the brink

crimson clouds filled the dawn sky
an inauspicious omen from up high
the gods had decided to take their revenge
there was no time to make amends
the rain poured down upon the land
the rivers swelled and burst their banks
untold thousands were caught in the deluge
they tried to flee but there was no refuge

washed away
washed away
washed away
washed away

oh polluted eden
where did you go wrong?
your streams of liquid silver
turned to stagnent ponds

FEARLESSNESS

fear
a nagging preoccupation
with what others might say or think
fear of failure
fear of inadequacy
fear of losing face
fear of treading on a few toes
fear of making a faux pas
fear of not living up to expectations
fear of fear itself
fear like a cancer
eating away at you
imprisoning you inside its invisible walls
a prison of the mind
a belljar
pinning you to your deathbed
many times i have been afraid
where has it got me?
precisely nowhere
it is the cold war era
a skinny 10-year-old picks up a newspaper
and starts to read
the article talks of an arms race
towards preeminence in a thermonuclear war
the ability of the superpowers
to reduce the world to ashes
at the push of a button
a little bit of childhood innocence dies that day
fear is a weapon
a source of power
used to control
to keep others in their place
the only thing that can defeat it is fearlessness
a stubborn refusal to passively submit
a refusal to take up arms against the oppressor
'no war - i hate bush'
reads an ugly slogan on an ugly wall
so you hate an ugly man
who has lived an ugly life
doing ugly things to people
do you think that's gonna help?
what effect does hating have on you?
does it make you feel better to vent your spleen?
or does it just multiply and spread more hate?
the hardest thing to do
is to retain compassion
in the face of deeply misguided and abusive individuals
but it is them who need it the most
when the world is a monster
trying to swallow you whole
remember that each moment is in itself bearable
don't give up
just keep on trying

SLEEP

oh dear
i got home late tonight
running around town
looking for a decent rest-your-aunt
still serving up food at half past nine
a funny thing happens to us at the indian place
we roll up there at twenty past nine
in a hurry
knowing the kitchens close at half past
we get ushered to a table
receive menus
waitress says is it ok that we close at 10?
we say we're here now so it's ok
we order beers
we start ordering food
vegetable curry
dahl
nan
rice
oh yeah!
suddenly waitress says
very sorry the chef's gone home
the chef's gone home?
very sorry
very sorry
we closed
we're both starving cos we missed lunch
this ain't good news
my partner gets indignant
now that you've let us sit down and given us menus
you can't not let us eat...
but i immediately realise that there's no point
we're two anglos in an indian restaurant in sk
this is a culture clash to the power of three
the chef's gone and he ain't coming back
he ain't told the meeter and greeter on the door the fact
but he still ain't coming back
welcome to korea!
where east doesn't so much meet west
as bump into it
sending both parties flying...
on our way out of the mall
we spot two likely knocking-off-early indian chef candidates
ha! ha!
the grub hunt nearly ends in tears
the vietnamese down by city hall is closed
but the italian in kwanghwamun is open
ciao baby!
i really shouldn't be here
telling you all this crap
i should be getting some shut-eye
yesterday i get home early
fall asleep on the couch
retire for a nap at about 5
and don't wake up till 7 this morning!
but man do i feel better!
been dragging the old carcass around for days
been in a really tetchy mood
been doing my time in the dentist's chair yet again
paying a pocketful of silver
for a mouthful of gold
swallowing down the antibiotics
gargling the yukky mouthwash
oh those sugary childhood indiscretions
parents please take heed!
been struggling to get anything at all done at t'mill
the four-letter stuff piling up
my new computer lies sadly unused
no musical dabblings coursing through its veins
no yoga
no aerobic activity
no morning pages
then suddenly
a good night's sleep
and the clouds part
the sun shines through
they say sleep deprivation
wastes your brain cells
so please don't stay up reading this
get thee to thy bed!

JOURNEY

the line it is drawn
the die it is cast
we the family fireseed are leaving sk
bound for new shores in august
new adventures
a new lifestyle
it only really hits home
when i see the ad for my job
being beamed around the world
i have previously mentioned it only to a few intimates
people start to approach me
'is it true you're really leaving?'
'so what are you gonna do?'
interesting how people perceive me
how easily the temporary gets a sense of permanence attached to it
the thing is
it's hard to answer their questions succintly
i don't know to describe
the journey we are about to embark on
'to live a more sustainable life'
'to tread more elightly on the earth'
'to live a simpler existence'
these statements of intent
sound so elusive
so vague and pretentious
particularly in the context of careers and promotions
ladders and greasy poles
the truth is
i don't know exactly where this is all gonna lead
it is a new journey
a new pathway
a new direction
towards a healthier more fulfilling existence
hopefully
towards a more harmonious relationship with the earth
towards a more sustainable way
yep
the time feels right to stop clinging
to the safety of the familiar
to risk making a leap
into the unknown

MIRAGE

shimmering in the blinding sunlight
an image slowly coalesces
floating above the sand
a sensuous maiden
almond of eye
pouting of lip
long and dark her tresses
she is dressed in flowing robes
she holds a tall drinking vessel
a long glass of cool amber-cloured liquid
tiny beads of condensation form
and run down the side
smiling
she gracefully extends her hand
towards my parched lips
i close my eyes
beneath my fevered brow
open my cracked and painful mouth
in readiness to take a greedy gulp of nectar
yet agonisingly none passes my lips
no ambrosia quenches my burning thirst
i open my eyes again abruptly
a blinking albino mole
squinting into the white light
but there is nothing to see
only endless dunes of yellow ochre
stretching away
towards the distant horizon

BUS KING

i run through a quick rehearsal
up on the rooftop
a quite different repertoire
from the electric set the fireseeds used to do
strum-ability is the main selection criteria
most of the songs are originals
a few newies mixed in with tracks from the first two albums
and even an ancient one i cowrote with my little bro
which i've resurrected
a few old fave covers
high and dry by radiohead
providence by jack frost
america by simon & garfumble
under the milky way by the choich
with its luvly descending augmented chord structure
what i only recently worked out
apologies to non-guitarists who can skip the next few lines
a minor
a minor with thumb draped over the f# of bass string
f chord with top e left ringing
e minor 7
on the way there i set myself a target
to earn enough to pay the bus fare...
it is already a dusky seven pm
as i set up on the edge of the square
but this being sk and this being hongdae
there are still plenty of people about
strolling and sitting around
on this balmy early june evening
all the trinket and jewellery stores are still open
there's also some unbargained-for competition
an outdoor record shop across the square
opera drifting out of its speakers
a bongo player and a guy with a didgereedoo
music floating over from a shop
traffic noise from the road
suddenly my little unplugged set-up
seems in danger of getting drowned out...
i set up my music stand
place an old cap out front for contributions
sling on my trusty korean fender acoustic
tune up
fiddle with my capo
and this is it
for the first time in my life
i am about to serenade a group of complete strangers
with only the twin charms of my voice and an acoustic geetar
i start off with feels like summer
a bit inappropriate
as actually it is summer
but anyway a couple of lads who were sitting behind me
come and sit down on the floor in front of me
with their bottles of red wine
and start swaying to the strum
hey! i got myself an audience!
a girl from the stall next door
donates a paisley blue paper star to my cap
to my delight
people stop
smile
dance
even clap along to the rhythm
the money starts rolling in
nobody bothers with coins
i just get notes
i get my bus fare back in about five minutes
passers-by stop and take photos
a harmless drunk does a little jig
then makes a financial contribution of his own!
the lads on the red wine seem to be digging the music
eyes closed and raised to the heavens
they sway in unison
one of em goes off to buy me a bottle of water
as darkness slowly falls the family shows up
looking amused
they head over to the playground
where an electric combo is tuning up
out to provide extra competition
at the end of the next song
i hear somebody behind me say my name
one of my studes from last term
sitting there with a pal
big grins on their faces
by now my fingers are starting to burn
my delicate digits ain't used to playing like this for extended periods
giving it their all
for rock and roll
time to lay down arms
pack up and head for home
i count up the contributions
result!
i can pay that bus fare seven times over