Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh

Category: Poetry

  • Chariot and two horses

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    The soul of man has his own chariot

    With a driver and two winged horses:

    The one eager for honorable praises;

    The other intent on becoming corrupt

    That only flogging and bawling can quell.

    With the driver’s free rein on the mares,

    The noble horse goes AWOL,

    The ignoble heads dominance,

    The chariot loses control,

    All fall from the fantastic race

    To the parched land of ignorance,

    Then begins the rebirth of the race

    Again, and again forever and ever.

    Author’s Note: I remember reading about Plato’s Chariot Allegory that illustrates our journey to the end of enlightenment with its vividly dynamic images of the aerial chariot race too compelling to reserve for a silent appreciation in my mind’s reservoir. I wonder what my chariot race has been like thus far…

  • The Library of the Bard in Babel

    Byron said he woke up and found himself famous one morning, and I dare to say I woke up and found myself properly surprised this morning.

    The cause of such pleasant surprise that gave a fillip to my otherwise grim and dreary Monday morning was my favorite author Stuart Kells’s tweet containing my previous poem titled “Where is his library?” inspired by his books Shakespeare’s Library and the Library: A Catalogue of wonders and his recent podcast interview with Abe Books about Shakespeare’s authorship. I am truly appreciative of his recognition of my humble writing often streaked with solecism due to English being my second language.

    Thanks to this wonderful tweet, I could withstand the cruel cold morning at the barren train station waiting for the train to work this morning- with pleasure. C.K. Chesterton said a great person is great because he or she encourages others however amateurish their works may be. I can no other answer make but thanks and thanks and thanks.

  • Where is his library?

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    Library of the Bard is in a fairy hide beneath the visiting moon

    Beyond an evanescent slice of the seacoast between tides in rhythm,

    Down below the deepening foliage between field and forest,

    High above the sloping land between plain and mountain yonder

    Where Elves, Dwarves, and Hobbits are librarians of wonder

    Among the unknown writs of mortals of the universe

    Beyond the boundary of time and space and race,

    Keep a single book of the Bard with the imprimatur

    Of literary workaday Johannes Factotum

    On the seventh floor of the Library of Babel

    Girding the constellation of stars studded over

    Cycle and Epicycle, Orb in Orb.

    Author’s Note: I listened to an excellent podcast interview with Stuart Kells, author of Shakespeare’s library, and agreed with him about a possibility that a single book authored by William Shakespeare will someday materialize from an unknown arcane volume of various writings of others in an unexpected place. Things can happen. Hence this poem from my mind’s view on Shakespeare’s Library.  

  • Thereby lies the Devil’s Bible

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    The Codex Gigas, courtesy of google

    A monk to be welled up alive

    After breaking his sacred vows

    Bet his life on a magnum opus

    In one night with all the knowledge

    Deep and wide of heaven and earth

    to appease the communal fury

    in the glory of the holy community

    Forever famed in an earthly shrine.

    So, the monk made a special prayer

    To Lucifer, Prince of Darkness fallen

    From heaven in exchange for his soul

    For helping him complete the opus.

    The Devil answered the prayer thus

    And possessed the monk with feats

    of supernatural erudition and swiftness.

    The monk then paid his dues in twofold:

    The portrait of his satanic master in the opus

    And the offering of his life to Lord of Hell

    In the likeness of the life of one Dr. Faustus

    According to the gospel of Marlowe.

    Thereby lies the Codex Gigas immortal

    Author’s Note: This poem is based on my reading of an article about “The Devil’s Bible” that survived the infernal fire in a Swedish castle. It’s arguably the largest medieval manuscript in the world originated in 13th century Bohemia. The scribe who penned this formidable book is said to have made a Faustian pact with the devil for completion thereof in just one day. What’s more, the book escaped the inferno by being defenestrated outside the window despite its being of 8.7 inches thick and 75 kilograms (approximately 165 pounds). The story is so remarkable that it has been registered in my mind’s book since I read it. The Devil’s Bible is now preserved at the National Library of Sweden in Stockholm.

  • the milky way

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    The stars in the Milky Way

    Bright in the cold night sky

    Twinkle in her diamond eyes

    Dwell in her garden of senses

    To unravel the universal mystery.

    Author’s Note: Last night’s sky was studded with beautiful stars imbuing me with a new kind of hope and comfort that life is not such a formidable juggernaut to deal with. The beauty of nature did me good indeed. This is my mind’s imprint of the beauty. 

  • farewell to the feast

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    A light spirit with a merry heart

    Flitting in the Arcade of Elan

    Hears the chime at the morn,

    Loses alacrity in a heartbeat

    With her lithe gait drooped fast

    And sighs for the end of the feast.

    Author’s Note: Today ends the dreamful 4-day Thanksgiving holiday, and I wanted to commemorate it with this poem of mine. To me, it was truly the most cherished holiday because I could have all those time to myself doing what I liked in the comfort of my room without having to wake up in the wee hours of the morning to take a 2-hour trip to work. Time is indeed a fashionable host that changes his attitude toward the coming and going guests. What’s more, “Nothing ‘gainst Time’s scythe can make defense.” – Shakespeare