I'm miserable, I'm stressed-out, I've overworked, and I'm back with another poem! HUZZAH!
Frankly speaking, I had absolutely no idea how the inspiration for this one came about. I think it can be somehow, partially attributed to the fact that my head's been throbbing so much over the last couple of days that I just had to vent it all on a piece about drums, while the other side of the story involves a thought about what Yao would be like on a dragon boat... I was greatly disappointed in myself for a few minutes after that, because the second the notion popped up in my head, I had a spontaneous vision of Yao toppling over a boat after being elbowed by a party-hardy Yong Soo (and Kiku getting all flustered and jumping in after him, only to have Jia Long go after them both in a scuba-diving suit! Yay, scuba-diving suits!). Not the best way to participate in a dragon boat race, I'll give 'ya that.
Dragon Boats
In which there is a lesson learned that sometimes, the path to glory is one that is walked in circles.
I've always loathed those
Dragon boats
You loved so much.
•
What do you see in them?
All I see is
Wood
To decay with age;
Painted smiles
To last for but a while;
A waste of your space,
And a waste of my time.
•
They're all the same to me.
•
But to you?
•
These worthless things
They whisper to you
Words
In a silent language
I can never hope to understand.
And their
Painted smiles
Shone
In a brilliance I am blind to.
•
Maybe that's why I loathe them so.
•
You understand things I
Don't
And never will
For those painted smiles are dull to me.
•
You loved them.
•
To the point where you'd
Beg
At my feet, for me
To watch them, and
You
In them,
Every single year.
•
And I'm too soft to say anything
But yes
Every single time.
•
Even when I
Knew
You'd never win.
•
Every single time.
•
The Occident:
They leave you.
The Orient:
They jeer you.
And I
Will always be there to watch you.
•
Drown,
In the middle of the river
In your blasted dragon boats.
•
Every.
•
Single.
•
TIME.
•
And why not?
These boats
Can only bear the weight of
Things
So ancient; so accursed
With the dust of time,
Like you and I.
•
"Leave it to the youth, Yao",
I'd say
Every single time
You'd come crying back to me,
Like the
Child
That you are
And always will be.
•
Forever a child,
With sunken dreams
Of sunken boats
And a wife, too
Soft
To say anything for so long.
•
"We are old,
And these
Boats
Crave for the blood of the
Youth.
Let our sons take them
To brandish
Like the warriors of our past;
Let our daughter take one
To garnish
With things we cannot now.
•
"For the game of the
Dragon boats,
Is one that welcomes us no more."…
•
And what happened next?
•
Orient against Occident,
Father against sons,
And husband against wife.
•
You turned a deaf ear
To all I said.
You flipped all I implored of you,
To navigate
Those boats you loved so.
Rapids rushed slower
And your
Dragons
They were faster,
The beating of drums
And the beating of your heart
Synchronized
In a way we can never be.
•
They inscribed your
Very name
Into every flagstone you felled...
•
And God forbid.
•
Today sees the day,
You finally cross the finish line.
•
And now I can't
Help
But wonder,
Which voice will whisper which
Words
Into that thick head of yours
when you realize.
•
That I am the trophy
You've been fighting for all along.
"Plumeria hi is a self-proclaimed hopeful writer-in-training renown for uploading the strangest, most bizarre things on her account in fan-fiction . net. Having jumped into the colourful world of poetry as an eighth-grader, when we asked her what true meaning she had in mind behind her works, she simply shrugged and said, "meh - that's for you to decide on your own, I guess." Really, we suspect that even she has no idea herself."
Ah... I can picture it already.
The lattermost statement made in the first passage may or may not be true.
- Plumeria hi