park

Jung Park and his opinion on Marriage

Marriage, what a delicacy. 

But it's better to stay as a celibacy.

If I would marry someone, I'd do it genuinly.

To give love affectionately.

 

I don't want to do it unintentionally.

It'd be awful if I did it with hesitancy, questionably, and senselessly.

But eventually, I will marry professionally and majestically.

 

 

Jung Park + Mystery Girl

She was a teacher. I loved her so.

I was a student. I loved her so.

It was forbidden one sided love.

I wanted to hold her like a baseball glove.

 

Hair as dark as ruby.

Voice as harsh as reality.

I can't wait till next year.

For I have nothing to fear.

Poem about Jung Park

There was once a Korean name Jung.

He was tall, slender, and fun.

Both great outside and in bed.

When the girls see him, they turn red.

 

He has over a million girlfriends.

And many more wives.

I would totally recommend. 

To let him dive into your lives!

A Breeze of Memory

A graveyard of dead trees

Fallen leaves of vast red and orange seas

Squirrels scurry before winter strikes

As children play while others pass on bikes

 

harmony of the trees an the wind come together and sing

As a bird chirps then stops to clean it's wing

Children shrieking and screaming as they play

Angry armies of cars roar past, then fly away

 

Memories start of when I was a kid

Only broken away by time an what it did

Sitting still only in question

Of who I am and to what is my impression

 

I laughed . . . I played here

I was happy unknown of fear

But then reality again breaks memory's connection

Only to be lost again, still unknown of my reflection

 
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Author's Notes/Comments: 

annnd, here you have yet another class assignment that I did way back.

 

Celephais

Folder: 
Poetry

A seaport in the land of Ooth-Nargai,

Being build of sky-blue marble;

Topped by slender minarets.

 

Bronze statues of famous heroes,

One page topped from Al Azif.

In the center the temple to Nath-Horthath,

Where eighty orchid-wreathed priests serve,

No less than ten thousand years old art they.

 

The greatest trading center in the Dreamlands,

Creatures of all sort in their bazaars.

As in Sona-Nyl, there being no time,

Nobody ever ages, dreamers aloft

In the taverns of Celephais.

 

Nobody matures, remaining forever innocent.

King Kuranes: King of Celephais,

Lost his life through drug addiction.

Living forever in the Dreamlands,

In the Palace of Seventy Delights,

Built of flawless rose-crystal.

 

Past the eastern gate is a park,

Wherein the King build a Norman Abbey

And a small Cornish fishing village,

To resemble his native Cornwall,

To which he can never return,

Now that his waking form is dead...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about Celephais.