Posted in Poetry, Tabletop Poetry (and Other Artforms)

30 in 30: Day 3

This poem comes from Napowrimo’s Day Two prompt and another Dixit Revelations card which reminds me of Pan’s Labyrinth.

So They Say:

the lighting made the picture rather yellow

The captain used to live here.
And all this land belonged to him,
Some say his step-daughter killed him.
Say she took revenge on him.
She she rose from the underworld
and poisoned him,
as he had poisoned the ground.
Take that tree, for instance.
That’s right, the old dead one.
The one with the woodpecker on it.
Can you see the woodpecker?

I guess that’s the proof the old tree is dead.
Woodpeckers prefer dying trees, you know.
Some say that old woodpecker is the captain returned,
feeding off the pain of the dead.
Others say he’s a fairy in disguise,
sent from the underworld
to protect the life above.
And see that branch above him?
High up there–
you may have to shield your eyes.
That branch is green.
Do you see it?

Some say the captain’s step-daughter
made the tree grow again.
They say she sucked the captain’s poisons
out from beneath its roots
so it could have new life.
They even say you can see
the occasional flower in the spring–
I suppose we’re here too early.
Doesn’t make sense at first, does it?
The underworld bringing life to the world above?
Isn’t the underworld supposed to be about death?

But some say its those who brave death
who find life.
Like the resistance fighters,
back when this land still belonged to the captain.
They say they faced death every day,
put their lives on the line
to stand against oppression,
would rather die than be blindly obedient.
And so they were given life–
the captain’s child–
they raised him.
I don’t suppose you knew your father?

Oh, it doesn’t matter.
Not important. Really.
Many people lost their lives here.
They say the captain’s step-daughter died
right in the middle of the labyrinth.
Some say he killed her.
I know, she killed him, he killed her.
The story’s convoluted.
But they say she sacrificed herself–
inviting death as a means of inviting life.
I don’t suppose you knew you had a sister?

Author:

I am a poet, linguist, and ESL teacher who loves to play games.

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