and the hammer swings
and the sound passes through the air
whilst a pigeon cries outside my kitchen window...
a window,
that is half blocked off by kitchen shelves
- a sort of inbuilt window security system
(the shelves, not the pigeon...)
-- (then again this is korea so pigeons could keep many a female intruder away)
and theres the digging and drilling of the new airport subway line
filling my mind with the shape-sound of a well oiled drill bit
(sometimes when walking past all this noise i fear the snapping of chains
and objects plummeting from the sky
whilst the giant metal slabs covering the cavernous gorge in the earth
collapses and we tumble
samgyupsal, automobiles, ahjumas, ahjushis, students, and myself beneath)
all this whilst birds that i no longer want to shoot
are chirping about something
"you dig and toil whilst we sing"
is what i like to think theyre saying
happy with their own song
unbothered by the noise we make with machines
the whir of my now much beloved
air purifier
is a steady sort of hummmmm...
my pint sized refrigerator also joining in on the
white noise harmony going on inside my flat
-- sometimes i could swear that i can hear the smoke
drifting up and off my cigarette...
each day
with every passing moment
the sounds change
ceasing from memory
only to return with another passing breath
only to fade again
with the sound of my slippered feet slippering across my floors
to refill my mug that was made with love
with more
undesecrated morning coffee
this piece of writing
at times interrupted by the sounds of
editing
and spell checks
this piece of writing
comprised of the sounds
of my fingers speeding across the keyboard
(do you know how quickly a person can type with just three fingers?
and yet even with all ten i can barely play a tune on the piano)
a car
bongo truck
speeds by
as if pedestrians never walk these streets
im amazed at the lack of accidents that occur here
im amazed at and by a lot
why im here?
i dont always know
and sometimes this unknowing will break me down at night
and i fill the air with the ache of unknowing
but then the space fills me
with the joy of
becoming
... its no longer just
"the life ive lived"
it is rather now
"the life im living"
filled with daily sounds
filled with daily
"is's"
filled with daily
habits and routines
i am what is
and what is
i
am
brought into
being
(fully)
present
in all this symphony
of
"now"
kim thompson. 11.37 thurs 24 mar 11. seoul. s. korea
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This reminds me of Li-Young Lee's
ReplyDeleteBook of My Nights~in a good way.