Description
If you're reading this, a certain Korean has entrusted you with something that she doesn't hand over to everybody- several fragments of her soul. Be gentle, be blessed.
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Reclamation
I am no more than a poet,
An arcane apprentice to a wordsmith.
Full of formless ethnic allusion and alliteration.
There was a time when tedium gagged my muse,
Took her to that lake of black-green waves
Whose name is Trivial, Little Use.
And thereupon she languished, each lustrous word devoid,
Blind and hungering for beauty, well-destroyed.
Let us go, then,
To that corrosive crest which rests upon the swells,
Crumbling cliffs where languor dwells,
Let us truss the blank-faced captors in a white-gold thread of dream,
And cast them in the black-green waves which reek of soured cream.
My heart is weak and wavers at soulful tasks
In which you, Helios, reign undeniable.
I shall perch upon your chariot-seat and bask
Within the gently lapping sunbeams and the butter-yellow clouds,
Cast away the burlap shroud,
Send my spirit soaring on and singing all aloud.
I hope I am no damsel in distress,
No coquette in a silken cherry dress to you.
I pray my lame and birth-wet charm had not disarmed
Your faculties, for that was nothing but a crude excess.
You are the knight who climbed upon my bower,
Unchained latent power which devours all despair,
Let me set my circlet on my raven hair,
Declare once more a nation of my amateur creation.
I love thee in the setting free of words,
In lifelong celebration and in strife,
In revelation which awakes stiff life.
If Helios should pass above my kingdom only once,
Leaving lonely sun to rise apart,
One tiny flame remains sequestered and preserved
To light the jeweled candles in my heart. |
Posted: 11:27 PM, Wednesday, February 15, 2006 |
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