Don’t tell me he is
he shouldn’t be;
You tell it to me
It won’t change me.
Tag: Poetry
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Nonsense!
Cafe au Lait by Camille Pissarro -
They walk tonight
Halloween Night by Ken Figurski Science may scorn, Reason may rescind
The sound of the unseen, the shadow of the departed;
To me it is more sentient, sensuous to my heart,
One peculiar delight, than the luster of intellect.P.S. It’s Halloween, the most popular pagan day of a Gregorian calendar year in the States. Originally a Celtic custom, the celebration of Halloween has been voluntarily and willingly observed as an innocuously playful day of entertainment that gives a celebrant, consciously or unconsciously, a jocund license to consider a daring magical excursion to a thin borderline between the id in the form of expressing the primeval supernatural awe and the ego of purging it in a way that conciliates such restive primordial instinct under the aegis of cultural tradition. In fact, it is a way of letting people have outflows of the rigor of contemporary lives in a socially accepted way. In this regard, the Halloween celebration in American is something of a folk carnival, a carnival of Sleepy Hollows, obscure witches and wizards, the headless huntsman, and Charlie of the chocolate factory, all in a phantasmal march for Trick or Treat with satchels full of candies and chocolates at night. After all, who would defy the sweetness of the sweet?…
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small pleasure
A Servant Seated in the Garden at Eragny by Camille Pissarro, 1884 Small things do not pontificate,
For they present you
A pleasantry without much ado
And a lasting, simple delight. -
Witchcraft
A wondering changeling
fairy-born ever drifting
bewitches beasts and men
and spirits them away in
one fell swoop then flies away.P.S.: This very short poem about a woman whose peculiarities estrange her from groups of people where she goes despite her beauty due to a reason none other than her solitary nature born out of a pretty fairy mother and a peripatetic, feckless wayfarer. Plus, this poem of mine is an appendix to my prose entitled “Fairy summoning in Florentine Renaissance period”,” which is basically a review of a scholarly article about historical texts of summoning fairies in the Renaissance period, published hours ago.
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foolish dalliance
La Promenade by Pierre Auguste Renoir She can’t be at ease,
He persisting,
She escaping,
When will Lovers’ play cease? -
Still pursuing, still achieving
Edge Of The Cliff Pourville by Claude Monet Albeit delay
You may fret,
Sometimes it may
prove to be fortunate.P.S. According to Herodotus, an ancient Greek historian who is regarded as the Father of History for his pioneering method of compiling historical records in a narrative form, the Germanic tribes in the Rhine considered repose from war as a time to recuperate their spent vigor and stamina for the next round of the battleground. They spent the repose doing absolutely nothing but performing their physiological and biological functions to the point of sloth and gluttony. (The accompaniment of German beer was primary, if not absolute.)
In the eyes of the learned and culturally sophisticated Greek, however, it was a sight to behold, a wondrous admixture of lackadaisicalness and prudence in a way that looked effective for rejuvenation.
My repose is not as starkly static as those ancient Germans, but it is a time of getting my hands off the helm of existential duties and responsibilities for a little while – to write a new chapter of my life in the continuous search of meaning and purpose thereof as a pioneer woman on the 21st century western frontier. Hence I wrote this very short poem during the current repose.
Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh 
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