It's finally 2015, and 2000 is just as equally far behind us as the year 2030 is ahead! And it's gonna be a great year ahead for everyone; I can already feel it! Ellen here from the Plumeria-hi hub wishing everyone a bright, warm, and delicious ChuNi-filled year ahead. Keep that chin up, you beautiful beings out there! This poem is dedicated to you too.
Beautiful You
Presentable Yao-Kiku much?
That morning,
The humble abode whose
Sole human occupant was
Honda Kiku,
Boasted a picture of
•
Total chaos.
•
Chaos evoked by a
Call
From his dear friend
Alfred Franklin Jones,
Ten a.m.,
Who declared
(Rather spontaneously)
That the world powers would all
Be gathering
In the café down the road.
•
"Twelve a.m. precisely!"
Had blared
Before the call was abruptly kaput.
•
And was to be
A noon spent
In pleasant silence
Shattered
Into pandemonium.
•
As Honda Kiku
Whirl-winded
In and out of the bath,
His toilette
And the last spoonful's of his breakfast soup.
•
And now
The real challenge presides:
•
The wardrobe.
•
Now,
One may be at lost as to the
Tremendous heights
This delicate specimen hath climbed
With the comb and the mirror.
For
Honda Kiku regarded his
Heritage in high pedestals,
The ideal Japanese icon
Must always be presentable to the publicity.
•
And this was a
Tremendous feat indeed,
Considering
That publicity was a client
With tongues of a varying colour.
•
For a first glance in the mirror,
Honda Kiku
Was wrapped most prettily in
His favourite blue robes.
•
He clutched it wistfully to himself.
It was
The first robes
He had ever stitched on his own,
And thus was a
Dear heirloom
To be found in his arsenal.
•
Blue like the cornflower's glow.
Cool like
Silk in the summer
And
Warm like a lover's arms.
And scented by the sweetness
Of a thousand years.
As much of a part of him
Was this robes of blue
As his
Esteemed Japanese tree.
•
"I'd like to wear this again",
He mused.
"But is it presentable attire
In the company of six Occidentals?"
•
The seventh of the company being himself.
The eighth being his beloved,
Whose name was
Wang Yao.
•
Ah.
The fellow of golden heart
Wang Yao.
•
"I love it when you dress like that",
He had said one night.
Kiku had arrived to the
Cusps of the silken bed sheets
Concealed in those very same robes.
•
"Why so?"
•
"It's just…
So you.
•
"And I adore you",
He'd smiled.
•
But would a company
Prominent of Occidentals
Love it
Just as much as Yao?
•
Kiku didn't think so.
•
And thus,
He'd spent the rest of
A very long time
Wriggling in and out from
One attire to
The other:
Shirts,
Camisoles,
Suits and ties
(And he was sure he'd thrown that cosplay out years ago).
•
But each had felt
Alien to his flesh.
Each
Was devoid of his stories;
His joy and his banes.
True—they were
Fit for Occidental company.
•
But they all rubbed his skin raw.
•
By eleven thirty-five,
Kiku
Was still frowning over a pair of jeans
When a
"Knock-knock!"
Clamoured from the door.
•
"Kiku?"
Proceeding was a familiar voice.
•
And Kiku's heart melted.
This time
Not
Because of the love
That whirled and churned and
Simpered in the crevice of his ribs.
•
But because
His beloved
Was about to witness him in
An oblong shirt and jeans.
•
Presentable much?
•
"Kiku, call my name once if you've yet fainted from sheer joy!"
•
"Y-Yao!"
He staggered to the door.
•
And who should preside
In the garden
But
Dear Wang Yao,
Striking
In a red sweater.
•
And how he smiled
A lop-sided grin at
Kiku's attire.
•
"Is it
That hilarious?"
The latter cringed.
•
"No, but
It's definitely new",
The elder admitted.
"So are we set to go?"
•
Kiku hung his head.
Evading his conscience, his
Thumbs
Began fiddling with the hem of his pants.
•
"… No",
He admitted.
•
"I thought so",
Yao's smile was as gentle as it was dashing.
"Can I help you with anything?"
•
His love nodded.
"Come with me",
And into Kiku's room they went.
•
For Yao was
A man who wore his
Jovial
On the sleeve of his shirts,
The unmistakable glint of surprise
Was evident in his eyes
As they scanned Kiku's floorboards,
Littered an inch deep
With
Articles of clothing.
•
"Another typhoon?"
He murmured.
•
"Analogous",
His lover shrugged.
"For I am a Japanese icon,
I must look
Presentable
At all times.
•
"But the predicament now
Is that
I don't know how to be
Presentable
With attire that doesn't rub on my skin."
•
"In that case."
Rummaging through the clutter,
Yao lifted an article up
By a dainty flick of his wrist.
"Try this one."
•
Kiku, overcome by intrigue,
Swiveled around.
•
And what should he see
But
His dear blue robes;
His favourite;
His prized attire,
Clutched gleefully
In the hands of his lover.
•
"But",
He made to protest,
But Yao silenced him with
A hand to his lips
And offered the robes for a second time.
•
"Try it."
•
And Kiku did.
And how he reveled at
The familiarity
Softened by Father Clock,
And how he reveled at
Its natural
Look on his figure.
•
And how Yao reveled at
The sight of a
Honda Kiku
Reverted back to the skin of his birth.
•
"Now that",
He made a move of dare
And hugged Kiku
Around his middle,
"Is the beautiful you
That I want the world to see."
•
"But is it presentable?"
Kiku pried Yao's hands away
And turned bashfully from the mirror.
•
"Dare you still ask!"
Yao guffawed.
"For like the flower
That best be enjoyed without jewel,
It is the
Beautiful truth of
Honda Kiku
That our world wants to see.
•
"Now come,
Flower of the orient",
He offered his elbow.
"The oafs await in the café down the road."
•
Kiku giggled in good nature.
He was still contemplating
Upon the presentable of his outfit.
But at least he could
Now contemplate
In a skin that fits.
•
Taking his dear by the elbow,
The lovers
Made their way into the streets of summer.
•
And if there be a lesson to learn
That day,
It was that the
Nuggets of a four-thousand-year-old veteran
Was a lore to be trusted.
•
For as Yao and Kiku
Appeared at the reserved table
A little later than allocations,
The six occidentals
Gathered around
A fun play of checker
Lauded the couple's debut.
•
But just as
Young Feliciano Vargas
Was about to squeeze his beloved,
Yao
Purloined Kiku's folding fan
And covered his
Pretty little face.
•
"Why, Yao!"
The pretty little face gasped.
•
"Yeah, what's the big deal geezer!"
Alfred Franklin Jones
Howled
In a mark of disappointment.
•
"This one's only for me to see",
He said simply.
•
"Then that betrays
Your claim
That this attire is what the world
Wants to see",
Fumed Kiku,
Muffled behind the folding fan.
•
"True: it is what the world wants to see",
He shrugged.
"But I was referring to
Our world;
The world between you and me."
•
"But I want to see too!"
Bawled Feliciano Vargas.
•
"Then that's just too bad!"
The four-thousand-year-old
Veteran
Deported himself like a
Young boy-child.
•
Presentable satire much?
For the last six months I've been nurturing The Beautiful World into what it is now (I shouldn't even call it an "it". I think my collection is a she... Or a he... Or a they! Yes-I think this one's definitely a they), if there's anything I learned, it's that being a ChuNi poet on FFN can be a chore in its own right. Attention doesn't come easy and there's more to poetry than I had ever imaged when I first dove into the business. For instance, did you guys know that poems are actually read to each punctuation instead of by its lines, similarly to a prose? (I only learned as I was writing Monochromatic Amalgamation. If you go back to read that one and the poems preceding that, you'll notice the stark difference, hahah) And did you know that the best poems have to be multi-interpretable? (I only learned my lesson in the middle of writing The Princess Who Seldom Smiles. I feel it's something that I still struggle with to this day). Yup-poems are harder work than it looks, people.
But I'd be lying if I said I didn't have fun with The Beautiful World so far. I got to try a lot of fun things I haven't done before (parodies! Parodies!), learn more about the art of poetry, and everyone's been so kind and supporting. But over that, it's the ChuNi and all the ideas I can just cram into this collection that has made this one crazy ride.
And now that we're prowling into the year 2015, I'm definitely not going to stop this any time soon.
Let the craziness commence.
-Plumeria-hi