Chulsoo Kim

Rookie (01/05/54 / Korea)

Under The Name Of Red Ant - Poem by Chulsoo Kim

The swarm of red ants shows
it is going forward
with rolling desert sand
in red.
As rolling,
until being red
as much the heat of midday
sand has struck.
The deed
the swarm is getting larger
and rolling sands
is that
biting sands with sharp teeth
and exibiting the penetrating power
to sands to melt
with tentacle sprouting eyes.
It is thought possible
because ants are a swarm.
Because it is not observed
sand gets used to
wind and the darkness of night.
When wind blows,
they breathe smaller breathing
in the pit
and then the night comes down,
they have backing out happy sleep.
As seeing stars,
they draw rapture
rather than light baptism
sands want.
Nobody wants to lose the red of sun
each other,
so sand transforms to white series
and ants overlook it.
Just they try to be red diligently.
They think
the sun should be in their power
as they become the chief of the red.
The movement of ants grasping
the remaining still of sand
so sand makes fine line
on its body.
Shortly after they think
rolling sand easily,
they shout the cheer of pleasure.
As sand might reserve deep crack,
it scorchs its mind.
It feels relief
rain is not coming.
The red march of red ants
is in the middle of desert.
The sand which ants roll
gets more white colour
and the sun is onto it.
Sand thanks to the benefit of crack
and ants shout pleasure
since the parade of red is over.
The pleasure of crack might be in a while.
It forgets parting into two.
As parting two,
the red is sucked into the chip of crack.
The signal of red
crack is left
stands like
the spirit of water
coming up through the straw.
Now it feels happy
even though it parts into.
Sand wind says hello arrogantly
like pouring sand
to crack the red left.
The red the wind peels out
comes back with missing
and makes a small water drop.
Such spirit of water is precious
as in desert.
The care of blowing up
answering to the preciousness of drop
faces the sky.
The star of calmness
gives illumination.
It can sustain in desert.
Sand breathes a pleasant breathing
at the time of the day after tommorow
running to the day of desert.
It makes blank
with remembering well
in the time of wating to get the sun.
The mind grows up
in the blank
one after another.
The root of peace
dreamt with locked up in the blank
looks around
whether it reachs to the bottom of desert.
The leaf growing into blank
does not grow well
since in desert.
With sitting on the strand of clearness
the star light gives to breathe,
it begins to open its sprout.
The sound of talk is heard
mummering together
in the blank.
It is thought
whether the root is breathing.
Even the thought
calmed happiness is locked up
is coming out.
It might stand up.
It is doubted
red ants can not roll it.
The red which the sun emits
gets pure.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Poem Edited: Wednesday, August 18, 2010

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