About Myself

I am presenting myself, no interpretation allowed,

mystery is so self-gratifying, it dismays the crowd.

The magician pulls the rabbit out, you realize you don't know how,

nonetheless, applaud his efforts to astound.

The moment arrives when I overinflate my distended self,

underneath this veneer of the orient:

dragons snarl and opium rooms compound,

tourists assume I am the jade within the forbidden palace,

one who strums the zither like rain gliding down,

feet bound tighter then drumskins, diurnally

launches a hundred paper cranes to the south,

each containing a missile---get me out!

 

 

There is nothing to which I would compare myself,

time does not allow, time does not ameliorate my blunders

such as the slip and fall of yesterday---it still stings keenly,

blossomed from a prune to something unripe,

the flesh does not forgive nor forget the pain dealt.

Reviews

[Revery]

I like your subject and content, but the first rhyme sounds somewhat trite. the rest of the rhyme and meter is okay, kind of wordy for poetry.

[Leesah]

you are on some other level.....

[Z. Smith]

People look at you and they see an asian and immediately suspect you hold some secret of the "orient." You are more than the sum of your culture and some people don't want to understand that. Sorry, I disobeyed the first line. Well you've presented yourself beautifully. And I love the last part. The flesh does not forgive. It most assuredly does not.