All entries for Sunday 05 June 2005

June 05, 2005

Culpability

You say you've been to Hell and back
But I see nothing in your sack
Except this bloody handkerchief
I'm sure is of the Water Sylph's.

[Notes:
Tin Soldier triumphantly returns with the head of a faerie creature but is not proud of what he has done. He is confronted by Knight at the border gates and there he confesses his deed.]


Grotto, The Great King

Grotto the great had magic in his hair
And his kingdom grew and prospered and flared
And maidens danced and sang of praise
And the people cheared as his body laid waste.

[Notes:
In the celebration of the death of Grotto, Tin Soldier sees ingratitude and faithlessness. It is noted that he does not join the parade, which is the first sign of his rebellion.]


Tin Soldier is Mistaken!

Duct-tape holds my soul in place.
Without which I fall from grace.
But should this tape be less than strong,
My soul would just have been so wrong.

[Notes:
After the battle on Trueman's field, Knight bandages Tin Soldier's injuries. Tin Soldier feels the pain of defeat, but is more wounded by the enormity of his own weaknesses.]


Odd Customs

Would it not be ever so nice
If you would just emerge from your guise
If you had looked me square in the eye
Instead of waving good luck! and good bye!

[Notes:
Obviously, Tin Soldier is waiting for something to happen. He may be waiting for a sign or an opportunity, but he is also using this to conceal the fact that he doesn't have the courage to act upon whatever clever idea he is forming in his little tin head.]


Customary Oddities

It would never be quite so queer
As sheep standing knee-deep in fear
of the Hooded-Reaper in clever disguise
While fish and urchin escape to the skies.

The Ultimate Counter

Tremble not when our sands are breached
Or if our brothers fall.
When our bells ring,
Our foes will spring
Into Jabberwock's open jaw.

[Notes:
This is quite a bold promise from the demi-human. Tin Soldier feigns bravery for his comrade although there still is Doubt in his heart.
Also noted is the obvious reference to the famous poem "Jabberwocky" in Through the Looking Glass (1872) by Lewis Carroll (1832 – 1898), whom Hkusfor salutes.]


Empathy

By whose cruel decree must you weep so?
I shall plunge my blade into your foe
And his blood shall apologise and console.
So please cease your tears; you make me so mad
Just thinking you'll die in rust in the end.

(Feb '95)

[Notes:
This may be considered the prequel to The Knight is Mistaken!
The dishonoured Tin Soldier is found in tears by the big doll house and Hkusfor's D&D model demi-human comes looking for Hero opportunities.]


The Knight is Mistaken!

Where are you off to, brave sir knight?
"To rescue my lady from the serpent's bite!"
But the old snake is grey and wizened and spent!
Wound him and may you forever repent!

[Notes:
The theme of Mistake is popular in Hkusfor's works. There is arguement over the identity of the mysterious lady the demi-human claims to fight for. This detail confilcts with its supposed (although never officially confirmed) prequel, Empathy.]


Fight on Trueman's Field

There was a fight on Trueman's Field
where the proud king lost his mind.
And even though the witch had gone
Her Shadow stays behind.

[Notes:
The Tin Soldier Saga ends here. Although his intentions are admirable, TS is a coward at heart. Nevertheless, the antagonist had grown weary of him and leaves to fight another day.]


A Present for Juno

The month of May cries in denial
before the skies that rain blood and bile;
before the seas that boil and fume,
That she has not forgotten her present for June.

(Jun '95)

[Notes:
Hypothetically, if the gods were vengeful, they would curse even the springtime of life with everlasting damnation.]


Threat of Contamination

I am the black that greys the white,
And who feeds on their sickness, hatred and fright.
And I will not fade or erode away
Or be so threatened by the joy of day.

(May '95)


Untimely Departure

Will I be missed, if I leave this place –
Away from this rich splendor and grace?
It is less splendid than as your eyes will reveal.
For that land that that you yearn is lesser than real.

(Mar '95)


Karma

I try to pretend my eyes have failed,
That my tongue, to mouth is glued.
I try not to speak,
or cry or peep,
But he looks exactly like you.

[Notes:
If alternate universes can exist in a single time-space continuum, it might not be inconceivable that Doppelgängers share their existence with ours. We are as much their doubles as they are ours.]


Saddness (ii)

The leaves are turning yellow and brown
As they fall all the way to the ground.
The air is colder than it was before
And soon the leaves will be no more.

The Lonely Crab

The ocean died and so did
The stars of heaven clan.
Says the lonely crab on Mandora Beach,
"Crush as many as you can."

[Note:
Substory to The World Ended On This Day (1993).]


The Oyster Queen Wills It So

For all the pearls around my spleen,
For all the salt on my tongue,
You will shut your wide mouth,
And be still in this gulf.
So say I, your queen.

————————————————————————————————————

If I part my lips, this trap, this door
and gather salt on my tongue
Then present the most marvelous pearls in this gulf
Surely they too will want some.

(Sept '94)

[Notes:
There is evidence to suggest that the two verses were not written in one sitting.
In the first, Hkusfor makes fun of the fact that authority makes ruinous decisions for us. The rule of thumb is that the power hungry must never be allowed power again, nor to pocreate.
Oyster Queen ends with an observation of Greed. In some sense, we are all tourists.]


Virtue of Contentment (i)

What I see is not what is there
For me to speak or shout or bare.
Unless I pretend that it be so,
The face I perceive is unaware.

A Shift in the Wind

Do not cry, when I’m unsound
Or when the fig turns brown.
But if I don't wake,
Or if the figs quake,
All must then weep for my crown.

Witchcraft

You thought I could not hear you scream,
And could not will your death.
But I can see your petty dream,
or just what that which is left.

Virtue of Contentment (ii)

Do not ask for longer legs
Or for hands uncuffed.
And forget wings or wheels or altered space
for your legs are good enough.

(Sept '94)


More Demands!

The Second Beast roars to the Lamb
Who did not run nor fret,
“How many need be killed this morn?”
“Twelve by twelve, exact.”

Virtue of Contentment (iii)

Nor dare you hope for a larger head,
Nor brain nor lungs nor veins,
Or claws to grip and tear young flesh.
May your heart control your reins.

(Oct '94)


The Hunter is Mistaken!

The huntsmaster shot me with a silver gun.
Which, at killing werewolves, was well to do.
But my heart is with the blacksmith’s son
And to possess it he must take his too.

Hence he sought Teddy with his silver gun
And shot him in more places than one.
But his hands were bare.
Had it been never there?
And there was nothing my love could have done.

(Aug '94)


Gradual Decay

Dead, my love? Wasted and gone?
Have the grim fiends come to play?
I see you are cold, and stiff, and worn –

Just as you were, yesterday.

(Sept '94)


Cries of the Victimised

They pinched me to your branches high!
Within their nest, in death I lie!
So is the tree a creature of the earth like me?
Or a creature of the sky, indeed are thee?

(Aug '94)


Origin of the Snail

S was a courageous little love, who was born as just a tail
And he asked the worker bee if he was in any way frail.
Which the green pea replied,
“You are too bold, too swift, and aloof like the gale!”

S was hurt; his backbone shattered
and into mud, he lugged.
The jay merely laughed – he laughed out loud,
and even called him slug!

At long last, a stronger shell,
S managed to nail.
And from then on, was known
as the Common Garden Snail.

(Aug '94)


Sadness

My foe has fallen! My foe has died!
What can save him? What will revive?
Repent not, lament not. You mend no sin.
Guts spill only out, never back in.

(Mar '93)


The World Ended On This Day

‘How wondrous this is!’ thought the gull amazed
but the wonder made him frown.
For each that fell, none replaced
And stars kept raining down.

The only lights were those of ships.
The stars have ceased to gleam.
And the ocean knew that they were gone,
For their reflections were unseen.

When the stars died, the scarecrow wept
over dry fields brown and dull.
“What’s become of the crops I’ve kept?”
Asked scarecrow of the gull.

(Jan '93)


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