Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Conversation across Tasman Sea. (He bases  on Wellington, and she bases  on  Melbourne,)   Good moringgggggggggg gigaaaaaaaa  her voice is walking on air.  Yes my dear good morning, did you have a good sleep?  He replied with morning counselor voice …I have been thinking… her mumble contemplation opens the air. … O. please don’t ’ think anything at the moment I am busy. it would be dangerous… hum… He replied half backed bean sincerely.  I have been thinking why you don’t  want to live with me 100% of your time? Do you really mean it?  She bits her words. Well my dear it is for you, it is good for you! He who has  a such understanding and patronizing smooth voice the other end (one of his nickname is  a silver-tongue-   a journalist described him as “engaging intellectual – so you have to very careful not getting into  his cunning net). I don’t think so,  it is good me at all! I don’t want sleep myself anymore. I want to be with you 100%  of our time,  we stuck stuck    together together….. I think you don’t love me anymore. you have enough on me! that is why you don’t want be with me 100%. Her tongue propelling  5000 km per second  with breathless. That would be disaster! He shunned her  answer and chuckled away his contentment. Why disaster? I will never give you hard time and let you do whatever you want and let you eat whatever you want!  I will be a little muse in your nightcap. I won’t touch your audio gadgets.   I won’t go into your study. I will be the best chef for your  glory and  shame for  the taste!  Do you really love me? I don’t think so, you just tired of me! you JUST  have enough of me!!  If you love me you can say it and prove it! She buttoned her eyeball into the screen gazing  at his face  as if he is her arch enemy number 1! Bullshit! I AM  an Australian man! Australian men never use a such word! (o men here he goes his aussi,  the most perfect  bush tucker reason of the Australian  men)  he was talking  about the code-of  the cardinal  aussi manhood! Well well what a plot of twisty vine of withering bloody Aussi men!  What  sort of men can use the word of “love” then?  You really don’t love me anymore! OK just repeat after me now, “I love you!” say it, you just repeat after meeeeeeeee OK arshole!   She puts on her words bit more heavy weight and give him her serious impression across camera and make sure he gets  the  message. Cut the crap my little cherub, I think world of you, he replied with honest picture perfect husbandly  ( very moralistic and smooth – here  the cunning silver-tongue) . Then why you don’t want to live with me all the time? She is pitching  like a tuneless violin. Well my dear you need a space, he said. Yeah you are twisting now; I know what you are trying to do! What is the arshole space?  She napping her words. You know the space my dear, it is your freedom!  He said No, you want your space you want your space you want your  freedom!!!!! She is dwelling Don’t   you want to  hug me everynight? She is almost telling herself Of course my cherub anything my dear whatever you want my cherub!   He  makes a  rash solemn –answer while his was gazing  at the other end! Are you going to divorce  me? she says Auhh… how could I do that my dear! He  become slightly  more sincere. Well, freedom? What is the freedom  you mean? Freedom is my ass, what is the freedom?  Freedom is foots.  I have plenty now! she sings away her  bulleted words into a barking socket. Good for you, my dear, he said. How about when we get old? She asked him very suspiciously. Well then it will be difference my dear!  He replied virtuously  with beaming smile Well fuck you son of bitch!!!!!!!   Her straight tongue sheer of hopping popping steaming morning air…. the songs of auburn clear her throaty chuckle away at  FM….  3/09/07 www.starryhome.com www.youngsunkimwalker.com 8:29:48 PM

Pearl    Billion tears and agonies Beaten by contoured waves and darkness Million wounds in her shining body Knotted weaved endurance of slavery whips   A darkness night, ocean Milky Way Dipper union of the roofless sky Lay, open in a starry blanket The ardent child born with guiltless ecstasy Sea breathing five contours of judgments Gleaming stars,  shade of lullabies Grounded oracle the South Seas framed Seven seas come to her with ratio of experiences The streams deep lands the erased pathway Metaphases of golden tiara for her seas bed She wiles, positing stiffs and superstitions She who has begotten a bullet of executioner Legend of comfort women South Seas Glittering songs are bandage for her wounds Billon tear beams weaves seas waves Knotting, her songs from her seven strings   6:00am 4/09/07 www.starryhome.com www.youngsunkimwalker.com   5:28:01 AM