Acute sensation, nefarious vibration
My arm, that resolute bough
Pinned to my side like a holy scapular
Staccato pin picks from within
Travelling determined swiftly south
Sprouting numb, I see my hand a claw
That refuses to unbend
Fingers curled inward
As if pressing stone to palm
What sacred relic do I hold?
Smile drooping downward
Disciple of decay
Through artery and vein
Vessels implicated in the crime
A great pull, strange weight
Plays through the body
Only on one side
It is enough
The hand declines to yield it's prize
No more allegiance to the ship
Disobedient rogue looting the bounties
I am demoted
Captain of my soul no more
Invictus was a lie
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem is so tight wound up I felt like it would suddenly unravel even as I read it. The vocabulary in the first two stanzas especially accomplishes this harnessing of kinetic energy. The second half of the poem seems to fan out and safely release some of that tension, but it doesn't dissipate - that would be accidental. In this poem you the poet are fully empowered (as Pablo Neruda put it) . Having shared with us a harrowing experience, you ease us back to our normal reality, but leave us wiser for this experience of pain.