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Steven Chung Poems
Above the Sea
During darker hours on a calm and sailing ship, I stand upon the deck of doubt alone and ask myself,
Suburbia's Dark Side
Shivering in the corner during dark days, I'm always at home. Sniff another line of snow
The Bed of Ethics
Laying on a bed, that constricts this temporal body from my head, down to toes, I look around the dimly lighted room
Twitching by the trash, during late nights, this is my life. Inject another shot,
Home, Sweet Home
Hiding underneath my kitchen table, for the first time, dripping sweat, I know this lurking stranger still remains inside my cottage home.
The Time of Morals
Walking down the road, covered in many leaves, I feel a steady breeze. Looking at the clouds above,
One Call Away
Smoking in the phone booth, under dying street lights, the city still remains alive. Clearly hearing ringing bells,
From Another Side
Running by the ocean side, as the sun begins to set, I look for your foot steps, lightly printed in the sand,
Her Front Lawn
Walking in a grassy field with my love, as we search within the midst of our life, I gaze upon her emerald eyes, grab a hold onto her hands,
Comments about Steven Chung
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Above the Sea
During darker hours on a calm
and sailing ship,
I stand upon the deck of doubt
alone and ask myself,
'Will I ever see my home again? '
Lost and never found,
I wipe away my hopelessness inside
my eyes and look around the shining sea
to see beyond its chilling depths of gloom.
Yes, these fluid mirrors perfectly reflect
the glowing diamonds found in
mother nature's vivid sky,
but it fails to emulate my dying mind.
Damn, how will I ever reminisce about
the dead and gone defining times again?
Feeling like an eternity,