Before I came to New York, I had lost my identity to awaken who I was. I no longer felt a relationship between life and time. The only river which reflects the moon light could not flow down into my part of blue.
I found my lost poem as a fragment of memory in a broken juke box.
Freedom is found on the inside, not the outside.
Everything might not be forcibly accepted
You only have to fall in the sky
There is nothing without the sky.
I thought there is already no past and future, though, still, the time goes by. I still ask myself however.
‘Does the sky need to be blue?’
When I arrived at New York, I saw the sky in the deepest shade of blue. Deeper than ‘the blind man’s meal’, which Picasso drew in his blue period. I am sure it is the deepest blue in the world. Nothing really can come close to his sadness, even if the sky should fall to an abyss.
But, only in that moment, when the abyss reaches into eternity, I, myself am closer to the deepest blue, which doesn’t change to purple and can penetrate through sunset despite the fact that it never changes. Blue, ‘Kind of Blue’. You know, it is the title of one of Miles Davis’s albums, too. How would he have expressed the blue if he was still here?
I took a bus to go to the city from JFK at roughly 5:30 pm. I looked through the window and also inside of my heart. I was immensely excited about everything that I could see, though, I was very tired because of flying in the sullen iron bird for half a day, and carrying a lot of baggage.
I’m in New York, the place I will establish my presence, and meet my friend, lady liberty. "At last I came here!" I shouted like Little Richard, and played a harmonica, while looking at the sky melting through gray forest. Then I started creating a new poem which will be verse having a rhyme of white wind drops and must be colored by the deepest blue.
I reached the first destination, before the sky dyed red by sunset was overspread by darkness. I eventually met my beautiful and lonely friend, whom I had never seen before. She always has to light a fire in people to dream of freedom.
My first night in New York, I didn’t dream about anything. I didn’t feel that I missed my country or anything I really loved. Here and now are my present. The only moment that I was sleeping very deeply, I was higher than the sky looking towards tomorrow.
I found my lost poem as a fragment of memory in a broken juke box.
Freedom is found on the inside, not the outside.
Everything might not be forcibly accepted
You only have to fall in the sky
There is nothing without the sky.
I thought there is already no past and future, though, still, the time goes by. I still ask myself however.
‘Does the sky need to be blue?’
When I arrived at New York, I saw the sky in the deepest shade of blue. Deeper than ‘the blind man’s meal’, which Picasso drew in his blue period. I am sure it is the deepest blue in the world. Nothing really can come close to his sadness, even if the sky should fall to an abyss.
But, only in that moment, when the abyss reaches into eternity, I, myself am closer to the deepest blue, which doesn’t change to purple and can penetrate through sunset despite the fact that it never changes. Blue, ‘Kind of Blue’. You know, it is the title of one of Miles Davis’s albums, too. How would he have expressed the blue if he was still here?
I took a bus to go to the city from JFK at roughly 5:30 pm. I looked through the window and also inside of my heart. I was immensely excited about everything that I could see, though, I was very tired because of flying in the sullen iron bird for half a day, and carrying a lot of baggage.
I’m in New York, the place I will establish my presence, and meet my friend, lady liberty. "At last I came here!" I shouted like Little Richard, and played a harmonica, while looking at the sky melting through gray forest. Then I started creating a new poem which will be verse having a rhyme of white wind drops and must be colored by the deepest blue.
I reached the first destination, before the sky dyed red by sunset was overspread by darkness. I eventually met my beautiful and lonely friend, whom I had never seen before. She always has to light a fire in people to dream of freedom.
My first night in New York, I didn’t dream about anything. I didn’t feel that I missed my country or anything I really loved. Here and now are my present. The only moment that I was sleeping very deeply, I was higher than the sky looking towards tomorrow.
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