2023 Sejong International Sijo Competition
A bottle, tossed on the shore by someone’s hand, breaks to pieces,
yet survives, worn by the waves, becomes sea glass, frosted and smooth.
Shattered hearts do not heal with time—their burning shards remain sharp.
Western girl, what is that thing you’re composing - English Sijo?
Korean in heart and soul, thought and language, old culture’s voice -
Stranger's spark, tradition soaring: something quite new for the world.
When Life Wrinkles
The fabric of life is not silk but cotton; it wrinkles, shrinks, and fades.
Thoughts crumple, the heart heats up. I am a steaming iron.
An Iron, my heart shall be. I shall iron out crumpled thoughts.
In Memory of Flave
Mourning clothes this darkest day
the gentleman has purred his last,
Whiskers slack, tuxedo-black fur
laid out on ice in the esky.
Schrödinger thinks to comfort us
but we know our friend is gone.
“Sforzando,” the music in front of me instructed.
Raising my violin bow I braced for the sudden loudness.
Yet how cruel, when you think of it, to wake the sleeping audience.
The Wounds of Hope
Hatred spreads like a wildfire wind, while evil listens in.
Sounds of wailing pause to hear the challenge of a whisper.
Spread yourself as a bridge. Be open and wide as the wounds of hope.
I Am Who I'm Not
A mask covers an unknown face no one seems to see through it.
Recognized by many, they think they know who I really am.
Greetings with smiles and hellos, They see me as someone I'm not.
Cover up the blemishes and be what they want me to be.
Show some more skin but do not look like you’re asking for it.
In a world full of imperfections they expect perfection.