an aggressively overcast sky
squashes the lifeblood out of the day
grey people drag themselves slothfully along the streets
how does anything ever get done in this country?
does anything get done in this country?
been away for a few days
staying with friends
far from the madding crowd
far from an internet connection
a train ride through cliched rolling green fields
black n white cows and golden hay bales
wafting farmyard smells
that elicit howls of protest from our little treasure
a stroll through a limestone georgian town
the kind of place where they shoot those costume dramas
all tea rooms and freehouses and estate agents
we stop for a warm pint in the lord burley
sit and chat in a tea room under mediaeval timber beams
the sense of history is arresting
after so long living in a country that imploded in 1950
a country that has spent the last fifty years
covering itself in steadily rising layers of concrete
apart from that
fireseed getting bogged down in setting stuff up
a whole lotta dull formalities that take too long
i can't find the phone number
then nobody answers the phone anyway
sorting out a school for OLT
being a typical case in point
i got web addresses galore
but i ain't got no web access
setting up a bank account
and an internet connection
and other whatnots
and blah blah blahs
oh i don't mean to bore ya
and i don't wanna snore ya
it's all part of life's rich pageant, ain't it?
ooh must tell ya
having failed to find any sort of decent bakery
fireseed following in the footsteps of johnny lennon
ordered my very own breadmaking machine
got some in-greedy-ants today
looking forward to some delicious kitchen smells...
Friday, August 31, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
THE MASTERPLAN
a beautiful english summer's day
i stroll down to the local post office
to mail off a copy of 'elephant' to a friend
i head back up the road past blooming roses
to the crown of the hill
cumulonimbus clouds of cotton wool
dance across a vivid blue sky
ahead of me i see rolling hills of green countryside
sloping down to the edges of the city
i climb the steep lane to the library
sweating now in the heat of the midday sun
i get on a fast machine without having to q
so here i am
the boy with the masterplan
who talks in a broken language that few quite understand
communication is difficult
it is hard not to be marginalised
to be crowded out by trivia and distraction
but the masterplan will prevail
make no mistake
the masterplan links the personal and the public
work and leisure
it isn't a job and it isn't a lifestyle
it is all-encompassing
and ever-changing
it can't really be written down
although i will try
because i know i must speak the language of those in power
those who hold the reins
but those reins are for the taking
for grasping
for pulling and yanking the horse and cart in the right direction
oh yeah, my seeds
i got the bit between my teeth
as neil young once sang
expecting to fly...
i stroll down to the local post office
to mail off a copy of 'elephant' to a friend
i head back up the road past blooming roses
to the crown of the hill
cumulonimbus clouds of cotton wool
dance across a vivid blue sky
ahead of me i see rolling hills of green countryside
sloping down to the edges of the city
i climb the steep lane to the library
sweating now in the heat of the midday sun
i get on a fast machine without having to q
so here i am
the boy with the masterplan
who talks in a broken language that few quite understand
communication is difficult
it is hard not to be marginalised
to be crowded out by trivia and distraction
but the masterplan will prevail
make no mistake
the masterplan links the personal and the public
work and leisure
it isn't a job and it isn't a lifestyle
it is all-encompassing
and ever-changing
it can't really be written down
although i will try
because i know i must speak the language of those in power
those who hold the reins
but those reins are for the taking
for grasping
for pulling and yanking the horse and cart in the right direction
oh yeah, my seeds
i got the bit between my teeth
as neil young once sang
expecting to fly...
Friday, August 24, 2007
SHOCK
the eagle has landed
fireseed touched down in the uk
fascinating myself with the culture shock of uk/england/brum
so far it seems almost as hard to communicate with my fellow countrymen
as it was with my south korean pals
who spoke a completely different language
a few first impressions of the motherland
england has a very very run-down look to it
like everything has gone to the dogs
basic services are C-R-A-P
school gates desperately need a lick of paint
i am staggered by some the prices of basic necessities
it costs ya a cool forty pence (800 won)
to make a five-second local call from a phone box
it costs ya a hefty £1.40 (2600 won)
to take a twenty-minute bus ride into town
the 10% of brits who make up the so-called 'underclass'
(the untouchable unemployables) must really feel it!
using public transport exposes you to a veritable rogue's gallery
the filthy-mouthed
the yobbish
the plain nutty...
physically speaking
a lotta people are in a dreadful state
enormous sagging guts and behinds are pretty much de rigeur
sartorially speaking
things are not much better
it's dagenham cleavage everywhere i look...
no internet connection at present
but will try to blog again soon from the public library
adieu
fireseed touched down in the uk
fascinating myself with the culture shock of uk/england/brum
so far it seems almost as hard to communicate with my fellow countrymen
as it was with my south korean pals
who spoke a completely different language
a few first impressions of the motherland
england has a very very run-down look to it
like everything has gone to the dogs
basic services are C-R-A-P
school gates desperately need a lick of paint
i am staggered by some the prices of basic necessities
it costs ya a cool forty pence (800 won)
to make a five-second local call from a phone box
it costs ya a hefty £1.40 (2600 won)
to take a twenty-minute bus ride into town
the 10% of brits who make up the so-called 'underclass'
(the untouchable unemployables) must really feel it!
using public transport exposes you to a veritable rogue's gallery
the filthy-mouthed
the yobbish
the plain nutty...
physically speaking
a lotta people are in a dreadful state
enormous sagging guts and behinds are pretty much de rigeur
sartorially speaking
things are not much better
it's dagenham cleavage everywhere i look...
no internet connection at present
but will try to blog again soon from the public library
adieu
Sunday, August 19, 2007
COURAGE
if there is one thing i would like my daughter to learn
it is to be independent
resourceful
self-reliant
self-motivating
self-starting
iconoclastic
courageous
to stand on her own two feet
to be sceptical
critical
to question
to answer back
to test
to upset the applecart when it needs upsetting
which will be often
to respect herself
to choose the difficult path
to reconnect
to be in other words
everything i wasn't as a young person
or even as an adult
a state of being i am only just beginning to discover
as i shake off my mental straitjacket...
i find it incredible now
how i could spend thirty-three years learning how to conform
how i could learn the lesson so well
how i could reach a biblical age
and really think i knew the lie of the land...
so what made the plates begin to shift?
i left the familiar shores of albion
i arrived as a stranger in a strange land
i struggled
i observed
i became uneasy
i didn't know it then
but i was feeling my way into a new process
i was unlearning
slowly realising how i was shackled
lame
hobbled
ineffectual
but unlearning is not easy, my seeds
it is a form of ego death
and so still i clung to the old familiar ways
to the distractions and delusions
to the brightly-coloured trivia
i consented to the mundane
i denied my true nature
i rejected wisdom
i fooled myself into thinking
that i was making some kind of necessary sacrifice for loved ones
when i protested my words fell silently on deaf ears
i had no sounding board
i was alone in a crowd
i channelled my frustrations into my songs
i took to the stage
i screamed into a microphone and thrashed my guitar
i set up a blog and posted poetry and journal entries
but all the time i was living a double life
settling for second best
avoiding confronting the stark reality full in the face
i fled from my conscience
i kept running until there was nowhere left to run
and now what?
it is time to face up to the reality
that i have spent thirty-nine years as a dull obedient pawn
now is the time for the worm to turn...
oh is it so hard to see through it all?
to acknowledge the totalitarian state in which we live?
where no alternative to 'business as usual'
can be tolerated or given credence?
is it not obvious that our way of life can only be maintained
by a vicious apparatus
that not only condones but encourages
merciless violence and exploitation
of people
of beasts
of nature
a relentless machine
that is accelerating irreversible damage to the biosphere
oh we like to think that the shameless behaviour of us europeans
is all in the past
that the horrors of colonialism and the slave trade
are a distant dream
but in the sweatshops of south asia and latin america
the slaves have been reincarnated
eighteen hours a day they toil for a pittance
so that we can mindlessly consume the fruits of their labours
consume and discard without a thought
then consume and discard again
with a dull passivity
engendered by the tv commercials
the beauty magazines
the billboards
the relentless advertising machine
spewing out its poisonous propaganda
jostling for the attention of our five senses...
do we accept the statu quo as inevitable?
do we remain obedient cogs in this well-oiled death machine?
or do we stretch every sinew to reject it?
do we turn a blind eye or do we rise against it?
i hope that my daughter will be a fighter
and i will do my utmost to teach her
what no-one ever taught me
it is to be independent
resourceful
self-reliant
self-motivating
self-starting
iconoclastic
courageous
to stand on her own two feet
to be sceptical
critical
to question
to answer back
to test
to upset the applecart when it needs upsetting
which will be often
to respect herself
to choose the difficult path
to reconnect
to be in other words
everything i wasn't as a young person
or even as an adult
a state of being i am only just beginning to discover
as i shake off my mental straitjacket...
i find it incredible now
how i could spend thirty-three years learning how to conform
how i could learn the lesson so well
how i could reach a biblical age
and really think i knew the lie of the land...
so what made the plates begin to shift?
i left the familiar shores of albion
i arrived as a stranger in a strange land
i struggled
i observed
i became uneasy
i didn't know it then
but i was feeling my way into a new process
i was unlearning
slowly realising how i was shackled
lame
hobbled
ineffectual
but unlearning is not easy, my seeds
it is a form of ego death
and so still i clung to the old familiar ways
to the distractions and delusions
to the brightly-coloured trivia
i consented to the mundane
i denied my true nature
i rejected wisdom
i fooled myself into thinking
that i was making some kind of necessary sacrifice for loved ones
when i protested my words fell silently on deaf ears
i had no sounding board
i was alone in a crowd
i channelled my frustrations into my songs
i took to the stage
i screamed into a microphone and thrashed my guitar
i set up a blog and posted poetry and journal entries
but all the time i was living a double life
settling for second best
avoiding confronting the stark reality full in the face
i fled from my conscience
i kept running until there was nowhere left to run
and now what?
it is time to face up to the reality
that i have spent thirty-nine years as a dull obedient pawn
now is the time for the worm to turn...
oh is it so hard to see through it all?
to acknowledge the totalitarian state in which we live?
where no alternative to 'business as usual'
can be tolerated or given credence?
is it not obvious that our way of life can only be maintained
by a vicious apparatus
that not only condones but encourages
merciless violence and exploitation
of people
of beasts
of nature
a relentless machine
that is accelerating irreversible damage to the biosphere
oh we like to think that the shameless behaviour of us europeans
is all in the past
that the horrors of colonialism and the slave trade
are a distant dream
but in the sweatshops of south asia and latin america
the slaves have been reincarnated
eighteen hours a day they toil for a pittance
so that we can mindlessly consume the fruits of their labours
consume and discard without a thought
then consume and discard again
with a dull passivity
engendered by the tv commercials
the beauty magazines
the billboards
the relentless advertising machine
spewing out its poisonous propaganda
jostling for the attention of our five senses...
do we accept the statu quo as inevitable?
do we remain obedient cogs in this well-oiled death machine?
or do we stretch every sinew to reject it?
do we turn a blind eye or do we rise against it?
i hope that my daughter will be a fighter
and i will do my utmost to teach her
what no-one ever taught me
Saturday, August 18, 2007
ANYONGHI GYESEYO
tomorrow we fly to england
british airways
via king kong
unfortunately no time to leave the airport
hop off one jumbo jet
hop onto another one
and so a chapter ends
a new one is about to begin
exciting times
time to take stock
and time to move on
this has been by far the most productive six years of my life
and the most exhausting
i have achieved all i set out to achieve
but my ambition was limited
this is just the start
a rehearsal for the next six years
fireseed been cruising along the dual-carriageway in third
just you watch him when he hits the motorway
when he changes into fourth and fifth
just you watch him go...!
british airways
via king kong
unfortunately no time to leave the airport
hop off one jumbo jet
hop onto another one
and so a chapter ends
a new one is about to begin
exciting times
time to take stock
and time to move on
this has been by far the most productive six years of my life
and the most exhausting
i have achieved all i set out to achieve
but my ambition was limited
this is just the start
a rehearsal for the next six years
fireseed been cruising along the dual-carriageway in third
just you watch him when he hits the motorway
when he changes into fourth and fifth
just you watch him go...!
HOLIDAY SCRAPBOOK
two coach drivers saluting proudly across the open road
an enormous swallowtail
fluttering across the mediaeval fortress wall at jinju
swallows swooping low on the road to chungminsa
a crane taking flight over the hazy rice paddies near gurye
the sun setting on the east sea
beyond the misty rocks at haegeumgang
huge blisters on the soles of my poor abused feet
three nervous waitresses running for cover
from the scary paleface entering a yeosu cafe
the stunning harbour view
from the sixth floor of the napoli motel in tongyoung
a lonely bus ride at 6 am
through dense dawn fog to hyangil hermitage
a gaggle of inbred country bumpkins
storming the bus at hadong
a vegan meal fit for a king
beside a babbling brook at ssangyesa temple
a cup of cold rice wine from a workman above buril waterfall
the majestic waterfall itself
a torrent from the heavens
bathing breathlessly in the cold mountain water at majokdae rock
checking out of motel napoli first thing in the morning
and seeing an ex-student on mbc news
presenting an item about the afghan hostage crisis
an enormous swallowtail
fluttering across the mediaeval fortress wall at jinju
swallows swooping low on the road to chungminsa
a crane taking flight over the hazy rice paddies near gurye
the sun setting on the east sea
beyond the misty rocks at haegeumgang
huge blisters on the soles of my poor abused feet
three nervous waitresses running for cover
from the scary paleface entering a yeosu cafe
the stunning harbour view
from the sixth floor of the napoli motel in tongyoung
a lonely bus ride at 6 am
through dense dawn fog to hyangil hermitage
a gaggle of inbred country bumpkins
storming the bus at hadong
a vegan meal fit for a king
beside a babbling brook at ssangyesa temple
a cup of cold rice wine from a workman above buril waterfall
the majestic waterfall itself
a torrent from the heavens
bathing breathlessly in the cold mountain water at majokdae rock
checking out of motel napoli first thing in the morning
and seeing an ex-student on mbc news
presenting an item about the afghan hostage crisis
NUMBERS
200 posts on this blog since last may
15 years in elt
8 years of marriage
6 years living in this country
4 years of fatherhood
37 songs recorded since april 2002
33 years of learning
6 years of unlearning
27 hours left in sk
15 years in elt
8 years of marriage
6 years living in this country
4 years of fatherhood
37 songs recorded since april 2002
33 years of learning
6 years of unlearning
27 hours left in sk
HOLIDAY SNAPS
independence day, yeosu
vegan videos
view from my window, tongyeong, kyeongsamnamdo
sunset at haegeumgang, geojedo, kyeongsamnamdo
Thursday, August 16, 2007
THE LOSER WINS
phew!
been on the move today
from dawn till dusk
hopping on and off local buses
in and out of identical bus stations
deciphering the same mad timetable boards
keeping in the shade
soaking up the aircon
down here on the south coast
any time between around ten and six
the heat is unbearable
the sun beats you relentlessly
i can feel it start to roast my epidermis
the moment i step out of the shade
not that i am complaining
i haven't seen much of the yellow fellow
since the accidental grilling i took at ggotchi beach
nothing but rain rain rain
i need a boost to my vitamin d levels...
rewind to five am
a lonely bus journey through the dawn fog
to the end of the peninsular near yosu
a steep climb up through the damp sea mist
to hyangilam hermitage
unfortunately the visibility of the sunrise is squat diddly
the early morning insect orchestra rudely interrupted
by the circular saw of the temple restoration ajossis
some you win and some you lose
i leave cholla province and cross over into kyungsan
tongyeong harbour is spectacular
especially viewed from my sixth-floor motel panorama
(i have treated myself to a little luxury this time)
also spectacular is the coast road
winding around the island of gojedo
linked to tongyeong by a bridge
i meet more friendly souls today
who want to help this eccentric foreigner
to find his way
some you lose and some you win
been on the move today
from dawn till dusk
hopping on and off local buses
in and out of identical bus stations
deciphering the same mad timetable boards
keeping in the shade
soaking up the aircon
down here on the south coast
any time between around ten and six
the heat is unbearable
the sun beats you relentlessly
i can feel it start to roast my epidermis
the moment i step out of the shade
not that i am complaining
i haven't seen much of the yellow fellow
since the accidental grilling i took at ggotchi beach
nothing but rain rain rain
i need a boost to my vitamin d levels...
rewind to five am
a lonely bus journey through the dawn fog
to the end of the peninsular near yosu
a steep climb up through the damp sea mist
to hyangilam hermitage
unfortunately the visibility of the sunrise is squat diddly
the early morning insect orchestra rudely interrupted
by the circular saw of the temple restoration ajossis
some you win and some you lose
i leave cholla province and cross over into kyungsan
tongyeong harbour is spectacular
especially viewed from my sixth-floor motel panorama
(i have treated myself to a little luxury this time)
also spectacular is the coast road
winding around the island of gojedo
linked to tongyeong by a bridge
i meet more friendly souls today
who want to help this eccentric foreigner
to find his way
some you lose and some you win
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
BANG!
six years in this country
and i ain't never been in one
until now
a pc bang that is
i heard lots of horror stories
about these smoky poky seedy airless joints
stuffed full of sad gaming addicts
sitting wide-eyed through their all-night sessions
then sleeping through the day
but as for the place i'm in
it can only be described as a positive paradise in comparison
for a start there's hardly a soul in here
most of the fifty terminals sit idle
the aircon is cool and breezy
drying up the sweltering humidity of the afternoon
the staff are friendly and obliging
and at 1000 won (60 pence) per hour
plus free chilled water
i certainly can't complain
there are a few gamers
but also a mum with a couple of kids in tow
all i'm lacking is a nice cool beer
to quench the nagging thirst
that follows you everywhere in sk in august...
earlier on the saemaueul deposits me
on the platform at yeosu station
(no katy x on this route)
a pretty five-hour ride
across the plains of kyeonggido
and through the lush mountainous terrain of chollado
i book into a place overlooking the harbour and namhae island
where hannah cavorted on the sand
a couple of summers ago when she was two
i hit the mean streets
the heat is oppressive
kind of tropical
the sun is out but a mist hangs over the mountains
sea salt in the air
giant leaves sprout from thick stems
vertiginous buildings are stacked up steep green hillsides
yeosu is a mini san fransisco
minus the trams and the yanks
it even has its own version of the golden gate
draped gracefully across the harbour mouth
the pace of the place is so languid after seoul
shopkeepers lounge lazily in the shade
half an eye out for a passing customer
myriad taeguk flags flutter in the hot breeze
i realise it is korean independence day
i do my mad dog englishman thing briefly
strolling down to the harbour prom
and along the sea front
i haven't brought my hat
i sweat my way into town
after about forty minutes
i am melting
time to duck inside a doorway
for the relief of the aircon and some dolsot bibimbap
it is four in the afternoon and i am the only one in there
the ajumma latches on to my minimal but positive comments
and refills my delicious side dishes generously
people are friendly and smiley down here
they seem to have time on their hands
instead of always racing against it
i strike up a conversation with a lady
up at the old wooden pavilion on the hill
she's got a 6-year-old boy who approaches me shyly
she starts off in decent english
but incredibly my efforts to communicate in korean somehow win over
and we finish our chat in english
a recent quantum leap has somehow taken place
suddenly i have developed the ability
to pick out the gist a little better
to assemble a sentence just that little bit more fluently
i guess i kind of got there in the end
just like i got to the pc bang...
and i ain't never been in one
until now
a pc bang that is
i heard lots of horror stories
about these smoky poky seedy airless joints
stuffed full of sad gaming addicts
sitting wide-eyed through their all-night sessions
then sleeping through the day
but as for the place i'm in
it can only be described as a positive paradise in comparison
for a start there's hardly a soul in here
most of the fifty terminals sit idle
the aircon is cool and breezy
drying up the sweltering humidity of the afternoon
the staff are friendly and obliging
and at 1000 won (60 pence) per hour
plus free chilled water
i certainly can't complain
there are a few gamers
but also a mum with a couple of kids in tow
all i'm lacking is a nice cool beer
to quench the nagging thirst
that follows you everywhere in sk in august...
earlier on the saemaueul deposits me
on the platform at yeosu station
(no katy x on this route)
a pretty five-hour ride
across the plains of kyeonggido
and through the lush mountainous terrain of chollado
i book into a place overlooking the harbour and namhae island
where hannah cavorted on the sand
a couple of summers ago when she was two
i hit the mean streets
the heat is oppressive
kind of tropical
the sun is out but a mist hangs over the mountains
sea salt in the air
giant leaves sprout from thick stems
vertiginous buildings are stacked up steep green hillsides
yeosu is a mini san fransisco
minus the trams and the yanks
it even has its own version of the golden gate
draped gracefully across the harbour mouth
the pace of the place is so languid after seoul
shopkeepers lounge lazily in the shade
half an eye out for a passing customer
myriad taeguk flags flutter in the hot breeze
i realise it is korean independence day
i do my mad dog englishman thing briefly
strolling down to the harbour prom
and along the sea front
i haven't brought my hat
i sweat my way into town
after about forty minutes
i am melting
time to duck inside a doorway
for the relief of the aircon and some dolsot bibimbap
it is four in the afternoon and i am the only one in there
the ajumma latches on to my minimal but positive comments
and refills my delicious side dishes generously
people are friendly and smiley down here
they seem to have time on their hands
instead of always racing against it
i strike up a conversation with a lady
up at the old wooden pavilion on the hill
she's got a 6-year-old boy who approaches me shyly
she starts off in decent english
but incredibly my efforts to communicate in korean somehow win over
and we finish our chat in english
a recent quantum leap has somehow taken place
suddenly i have developed the ability
to pick out the gist a little better
to assemble a sentence just that little bit more fluently
i guess i kind of got there in the end
just like i got to the pc bang...
RELOCATION
standing on the platform
(6:41)
waiting for my train...
well not quite
but almost
i am in an internet 'salon'(?)
in yongsan station
with half an hour to spare
before i board a train to the south coast...
the move was bad
just about as stressful as it could have been
up most of sunday night
trawling through a scary quantity of personal effects
stuff family fireseed has accumulated over the last six years
no sooner would a camera fit through the eye of a needle...
the shipping guys turn up at eight am
and get to work boxing things up
terrifying amounts of packaging arrive
reinforced cardboard boxes
packing tape
paper for wrapping the crockery
indestructible-looking tin cans for food items
felt-tip markers for describing the contents
'kit-ware'
among the chaos and the heat and the sweaty packers
mr jung the boss
stands unruffled
in his dapper clothes
holding his clipboard
and chatting politely in english
as the boxes pile up
mr jung itemises their contents on his inventory
asks me to write down their insurance value
i wrack my brains
i can't even think in pounds
let alone in dollars...
i'm just thinking
mrs f and i arrived in sk with six boxes
we leave with...eighty-three!
of course this time we are transporting a mini library
of h's books and a few toys
but i'm still scratching my head
wondering how on earth
we have acquired this ridiculous amount of stuff...
suddenly all hell lets loose
the blokey we've hired
to transport our suitcases and other things
to mum-in-law's house
is throwing a wobbly
there is a whole lot more stuff than he expected
and he is refusing to do it for the agreed price
he wants more cash
now mrs f is the one throwing a wobbly
van man tells her to sling a hook and find someone else
prepared to do it cheaper
he storms out
after a lengthy phone argument
and some frantic ringing round other van-hire companies
van man is back with a 'told you so' look on his face
muttering under his breath
his team start piling stuff
out of our fourth-floor window
onto a ladder platform
and down to his truck
suddenly there is a scream of pain
as mrs f catches her little finger in the door
she is in agony and in tears
as she heads off for the hospital
a startled hannah bursts into tears too
van man has had enough and bails out
telling mum to get in his van
for the trip across town to gaebong
that leaves me and our little t
alone in the house
with a load of unwanted furniture
that van man has just left behind
three frames removed from the balcony window
which weigh about half a ton
and a pile of heavy packing paper
that the packers seem to have forgotten
i go round the house with a dustpan n brush
i go down on my hands n knees and scrub for victory
i just wanna get out of here
hannah sobs for mummy
mrs f finally reappears with her pinky in a plaster splint
one of the neighbours helps us to lug the remaining stuff
down the stairs and outside
luckily she is willing to take most of it herself
we carelessly abandon a pile of rubbish bags and plastic
at the side of the road
like the bad neighbours who leave the garbage out on the wrong day
or just dump it
a taxi ride at snail's pace
through the monday evening rush-hour traffic
deposits us grimy but intact at mum-in-law's place
oh i have never slept so soundly, my seeds...
(6:41)
waiting for my train...
well not quite
but almost
i am in an internet 'salon'(?)
in yongsan station
with half an hour to spare
before i board a train to the south coast...
the move was bad
just about as stressful as it could have been
up most of sunday night
trawling through a scary quantity of personal effects
stuff family fireseed has accumulated over the last six years
no sooner would a camera fit through the eye of a needle...
the shipping guys turn up at eight am
and get to work boxing things up
terrifying amounts of packaging arrive
reinforced cardboard boxes
packing tape
paper for wrapping the crockery
indestructible-looking tin cans for food items
felt-tip markers for describing the contents
'kit-ware'
among the chaos and the heat and the sweaty packers
mr jung the boss
stands unruffled
in his dapper clothes
holding his clipboard
and chatting politely in english
as the boxes pile up
mr jung itemises their contents on his inventory
asks me to write down their insurance value
i wrack my brains
i can't even think in pounds
let alone in dollars...
i'm just thinking
mrs f and i arrived in sk with six boxes
we leave with...eighty-three!
of course this time we are transporting a mini library
of h's books and a few toys
but i'm still scratching my head
wondering how on earth
we have acquired this ridiculous amount of stuff...
suddenly all hell lets loose
the blokey we've hired
to transport our suitcases and other things
to mum-in-law's house
is throwing a wobbly
there is a whole lot more stuff than he expected
and he is refusing to do it for the agreed price
he wants more cash
now mrs f is the one throwing a wobbly
van man tells her to sling a hook and find someone else
prepared to do it cheaper
he storms out
after a lengthy phone argument
and some frantic ringing round other van-hire companies
van man is back with a 'told you so' look on his face
muttering under his breath
his team start piling stuff
out of our fourth-floor window
onto a ladder platform
and down to his truck
suddenly there is a scream of pain
as mrs f catches her little finger in the door
she is in agony and in tears
as she heads off for the hospital
a startled hannah bursts into tears too
van man has had enough and bails out
telling mum to get in his van
for the trip across town to gaebong
that leaves me and our little t
alone in the house
with a load of unwanted furniture
that van man has just left behind
three frames removed from the balcony window
which weigh about half a ton
and a pile of heavy packing paper
that the packers seem to have forgotten
i go round the house with a dustpan n brush
i go down on my hands n knees and scrub for victory
i just wanna get out of here
hannah sobs for mummy
mrs f finally reappears with her pinky in a plaster splint
one of the neighbours helps us to lug the remaining stuff
down the stairs and outside
luckily she is willing to take most of it herself
we carelessly abandon a pile of rubbish bags and plastic
at the side of the road
like the bad neighbours who leave the garbage out on the wrong day
or just dump it
a taxi ride at snail's pace
through the monday evening rush-hour traffic
deposits us grimy but intact at mum-in-law's place
oh i have never slept so soundly, my seeds...
Sunday, August 12, 2007
LEAVING
leaving
bleeding
abdicating
moving on
fresh fields
and pastures new
excitement
disconnection and loss
released from the womb
that nurtured
and inhibited
out of captivity
and into the wild
familiarity breeds contempt
the grass is always greener
on the other side of the fenestration
a fixture made impermanent
a part of the furniture abruptly replaced
six years
1272 days
time to reflect
the ups and downs
the highs and lows
the victories and the defeats
the successes and the failures
the friendships built
the emnities created
memory fragments splinter away
the times i enraged
the times i connected
mostly the slow, the attritional
two steps forward, one step back
treading on toes
clutching at fruit
one by one
two by two
three by three
prepping
preaching
formulating
coordinating
managing
mismanaging
coping and moping
negotiations
mediations
mediatations
cogitations
good karma
bad karma
keep calm...er
losing it!
window pews
mountain views
misty mornings
blazing sunsets
crack of dawns
long afternoons
late evenings
all thru the nights
seas of blank faces
board races
change of paces
basket cases
plans and observations
reviews and evaluations
tcmaps
sostacs
minor crises
heart attacks
emails
emails
emails
still more emails
h & s
css
vips
mps
hiss...
crackle
over...
and out
bleeding
abdicating
moving on
fresh fields
and pastures new
excitement
disconnection and loss
released from the womb
that nurtured
and inhibited
out of captivity
and into the wild
familiarity breeds contempt
the grass is always greener
on the other side of the fenestration
a fixture made impermanent
a part of the furniture abruptly replaced
six years
1272 days
time to reflect
the ups and downs
the highs and lows
the victories and the defeats
the successes and the failures
the friendships built
the emnities created
memory fragments splinter away
the times i enraged
the times i connected
mostly the slow, the attritional
two steps forward, one step back
treading on toes
clutching at fruit
one by one
two by two
three by three
prepping
preaching
formulating
coordinating
managing
mismanaging
coping and moping
negotiations
mediations
mediatations
cogitations
good karma
bad karma
keep calm...er
losing it!
window pews
mountain views
misty mornings
blazing sunsets
crack of dawns
long afternoons
late evenings
all thru the nights
seas of blank faces
board races
change of paces
basket cases
plans and observations
reviews and evaluations
tcmaps
sostacs
minor crises
heart attacks
emails
emails
emails
still more emails
h & s
css
vips
mps
hiss...
crackle
over...
and out
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
STUCK NEEDLE
if we could see the shadows the littlest things cast...
the rain brings blessed relief
pelting down on this beseiged city
in tracing paper sheets
washing off a thick layer
of sweat and dust and grime
from the grey concrete epidermis
when the rain comes
they run and hide their heads
they might as well be dead
i am almost alone
in this soaring absorbing
anonymous cacophanous
metropolis
semi-sheltered
by the gently dripping boughs
and supple bending leaves
of the arboreal canopy
the lush foliage
that defiantly braves
this choking urban air
i am not entirely devoid of human company
the occasional faceless umbrella scurries past
on its way to a date
with one of those stupid umbrella condom dispensers
that now proliferate so freely
among the security-guarded lobbies
of our kind corporate benefactors
however i am overpoweringly outnumbered
by an army of winged antenna-waving six-legged friends
an ear-needling 'mem-mmemm-MMEMM-MMMEMMM' vibrates incessantly
from above my ahead
like a one-instrument celestial orchestra
stuck on a buzzy note
the koreans call them 'memi's
which i guess is onomatopaeic
oh yeah
the cicadas are out in force these days
whatever the weather
come rain come shine
ear-piercing in volume they may be
but not so obvious to the naked eye
not because of their size
(hey these dino-sized macro-insect babies
cut those flitty lightweight dragonfly pretenders
right down to size!)
no these big fat buggies
are cunningly camouflaged
the precise same colour as the tree bark
but when i stick my nose
right up close to the rough dark elephant skin
and crane my neck upwards
all i can see is hundreds of these bug-eyed monsters
as big as your thumb
clinging stubbornly to the tree trunk
fiddling on their one-note symphony
while seoul burns
or sweats
or soaks
but don't get me wrong
i love this tropical jungle sound
so exotic
so sensual
so un-english
and it sure beats
the lonely alienating downtown traffic roar
the rain brings blessed relief
pelting down on this beseiged city
in tracing paper sheets
washing off a thick layer
of sweat and dust and grime
from the grey concrete epidermis
when the rain comes
they run and hide their heads
they might as well be dead
i am almost alone
in this soaring absorbing
anonymous cacophanous
metropolis
semi-sheltered
by the gently dripping boughs
and supple bending leaves
of the arboreal canopy
the lush foliage
that defiantly braves
this choking urban air
i am not entirely devoid of human company
the occasional faceless umbrella scurries past
on its way to a date
with one of those stupid umbrella condom dispensers
that now proliferate so freely
among the security-guarded lobbies
of our kind corporate benefactors
however i am overpoweringly outnumbered
by an army of winged antenna-waving six-legged friends
an ear-needling 'mem-mmemm-MMEMM-MMMEMMM' vibrates incessantly
from above my ahead
like a one-instrument celestial orchestra
stuck on a buzzy note
the koreans call them 'memi's
which i guess is onomatopaeic
oh yeah
the cicadas are out in force these days
whatever the weather
come rain come shine
ear-piercing in volume they may be
but not so obvious to the naked eye
not because of their size
(hey these dino-sized macro-insect babies
cut those flitty lightweight dragonfly pretenders
right down to size!)
no these big fat buggies
are cunningly camouflaged
the precise same colour as the tree bark
but when i stick my nose
right up close to the rough dark elephant skin
and crane my neck upwards
all i can see is hundreds of these bug-eyed monsters
as big as your thumb
clinging stubbornly to the tree trunk
fiddling on their one-note symphony
while seoul burns
or sweats
or soaks
but don't get me wrong
i love this tropical jungle sound
so exotic
so sensual
so un-english
and it sure beats
the lonely alienating downtown traffic roar
Monday, August 06, 2007
ARTIFICE
seoul cooks
the city streets sway and throb in the heat
pedestrians sizzle like sausages in a pan
huge fat-bodied dragonflies hover lazily above the scene
surveying the pavements
beside the eight-lane traffic blur
dino-insects in an alien landscape
this is a positive sign
of nature not yielding
to the suffocating encroachment of man's artifice
they will be here
long after all this concrete
after all these poison-spewing machines
have been reclaimed by mother earth
and what of the humans
who consider themselves so clever
but have become a race of icaruses?
oh the wax is melting, my seeds
and the sun is burning
can daedelus find a better way
of harnessing his inventions
or will he let his beloved son
plummet to the earth?
the city streets sway and throb in the heat
pedestrians sizzle like sausages in a pan
huge fat-bodied dragonflies hover lazily above the scene
surveying the pavements
beside the eight-lane traffic blur
dino-insects in an alien landscape
this is a positive sign
of nature not yielding
to the suffocating encroachment of man's artifice
they will be here
long after all this concrete
after all these poison-spewing machines
have been reclaimed by mother earth
and what of the humans
who consider themselves so clever
but have become a race of icaruses?
oh the wax is melting, my seeds
and the sun is burning
can daedelus find a better way
of harnessing his inventions
or will he let his beloved son
plummet to the earth?
MAGIC MOUNTAIN #2
i have hated this stuff for the six last years
but as i raise my elbow
tilt back the guilty aluminium can of 'hite fresh'
(pronounced 'haitu preshy' in korea)
and feel the ice-cold bubbly fluid
course down my throat
i get a very fleeting sense of mini-nirvana...
i sit under an obselete but intimate sun umbrella
outside a ubiquitous 'family mart' convenience store
(pronounced 'pemilly martu')
in a lamplit evening street in kwacheon
near the foot of the magic mountain
quenching my thirst on the devil's drink
full of non-vegan GM-derived
additives, preservatives and whatnots
which i should not be touching with a proverbial bargepole
but nobody is perfect all the time
least of all your humble fireseed
half conscientious everyman, half idle layabout
half dr jeckyll, half mr hyde
half loving family man, half prickly loner
half team player, half outsider
half sinner, half saint
(does that make me a tin of paint?)...
at half past two in the arvo
with the rest of the pemilly out visiting one of h's pals
i momentarily tear myself away from mixing 'elephant'
and through my bedroom window spy the magic mountain
suddenly emerging in miraculous clarity
from the clammy summer mists that have engulfed it for weeks
an hour or so later and i am striding up a rocky path
in the old faithful walking boots
i bought in boringmouth 10 years ago
around the time i threw off the shackles of animal flesh
the plentiful recent rains have replenished the stream
and the water cascades over the rocks
roaring through the narrow crevices
an amazing thing happens almost as soon as i hit the trail
suddenly ideas are coursing through my cerebral circuits & synapses
making my brain burn
its fuse set to blow
i have to stop and scribble all this stuff down in my notebook
it is as if i have taken a powerful mind-enhancing drug
which i guess i have
hormones and chemicals which have lain dormant
through my horrendously sedentary existence of the last few weeks
are abruptly being fired around my body
fireworks in my cortex
catherine wheels in my cerebellum...
as the mists slowly begin to descend once again
your sweaty fireseed reaches yeonjuam temple sanctuary
just below the summit of the magic mountain
home to the spectacular snake-armed golden buddha
housed in a beautiful prayer hall
in the garden below there are tropical orchids
and other flowers with beautiful wine red-yellow petals
incense and the murmur of distant chanting
fill the rejuvenating air
as i gaze out over the valley i have just climbed
cloaked in deep green forest
i get chatting to a couple of american dudes from LA
the dark swarthy one proudly displays a mane of chest hair
that your average korean guy would have to buy in a shop
and sports a gold star of david medallion
no confusion about where his family hails from
the bespectacled fellow is a gregarious 'private hagwon' teacher
up from busan for the weekend
he tells me the republicans don't have much chance of being reelected
i decide not to explore that avenue
and simply nod and smile affably
twenty minutes from the top
and the mist closes in ever more tightly
we respect the mountain and turn back
leaving behind the fragrant pines and rushing water
for the everyday mundanity of kwacheon city
its legoland apartment blocks
and its man-made sterility
Friday, August 03, 2007
AT THE CROSSROADS
i stand alone at the crossroads
in gwanghwamun
in the heart of seoul
the spiritual centre
where the japanese futilely erected their monstrous carbuncle
to crush the korean spirit
only for it to be demolished
all around me
the mad rush-hour crush is in full swing
choked traffic arteries
stretch away in all four directions
passers-by buffet me carelessly
i am the invisble man
they knock me sideways
send me staggering like a drunkard
i crane my neck upwards
i am on a merry-go-round
tall buildings and hazy mountains
spin around and around
the giant but silent video screens
blur into psychedelic colours
my nostrils are filled
with a petroleum-sewer cocktail
i am sober
but i feel drugged
who added something to my glass
when my head was turned?
in gwanghwamun
in the heart of seoul
the spiritual centre
where the japanese futilely erected their monstrous carbuncle
to crush the korean spirit
only for it to be demolished
all around me
the mad rush-hour crush is in full swing
choked traffic arteries
stretch away in all four directions
passers-by buffet me carelessly
i am the invisble man
they knock me sideways
send me staggering like a drunkard
i crane my neck upwards
i am on a merry-go-round
tall buildings and hazy mountains
spin around and around
the giant but silent video screens
blur into psychedelic colours
my nostrils are filled
with a petroleum-sewer cocktail
i am sober
but i feel drugged
who added something to my glass
when my head was turned?
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