Poem

This poem is linked on Coldfrontmag.com's poem of the day and I think it's pretty good so I'm going to repost it here too. It's from thediagram.com

A ROUND OF GO

Kismet Al-Hussaini

When a woman is not moving she is a bowl of stones
or a cave filled to the lips with damaged records,
whereas moving bodies take to their boundaries, heaving
to balance invasion. The black pebbles drop into a bowl

or a cave filled to the lips with damaged records,
fulfilling one end of an urge; a graph, or a territory
to balance invasion. The black pebbles drop into a bowl
the way a woman loses sand through her purse

fulfilling one end of an urge, a graph or a territory.
Beauty defines itself in its sequel. It seeks this other serially
the way a woman loses sand through her purse;
it breathes life into itself through juxtaposition.

Beauty defines itself in its sequel. It seeks this other serially
to settle the matter of ugly breasts. Sandards increase as
it breathes life into itself through juxtaposition.
We place pebbles of equal mass on two trays

to settle the matter of ugly breasts. Standards increase as
a tray lowers deeply on one side.
We place pebbles of equal mass on both trays.
What is beautiful moves in concentric circles to dismantle

what a tray lowers deeply on one side.
A bowl loses definition as its contents increase in space.
What is beautiful moves in concentric circles to dismantle
the growing clouds of white ink. The pebbles fill a flat, tired

bowl that loses definition as its contents increase in space.
The rain is repelled by its negative charge, sucked into the mountain's
growing clouds of white ink. What the pebbles fill is flat, tired,
because what moves, clears the disc, lifting into the palm of a hand.

The rain is repelled by its negative charge, sucked back into the mountain
where it is said that moving bodies take to their boundaries, heaving,
because what moves, clears the disc, lifting into the palm of a hand.
When a woman is not moving, she is a bowl of stones.










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I wrote this poem at the Naropa Summer Writing Institute. The pantoum's recursive and slippery nature seemed a natural relative of the game of Go, which is slippery and concerned with the study of flux. The dynamic between masculine and feminine is also slippery and in constant flux. Black may surround white and/then/or vice versa. Though appearance and experience often seem familiar, they are subject to our continual revision, thus the pantoum is an ideal vessel to express these shifts.