Pan. Door. Ah. & other poems
By Ji Young Lee.
PAN. DOOR. AH.
Ah, here’s the pan
you use, to break yolk
and burn it to black-
wealthy man did not turn you
domestic, how convenient-
all you must do is
sit pretty whilst he feeds you
with prettier lies, on toast;
says he loves you, but you know
he loves your body,
celestial torture device
from Apollo. What’s that,
must be the door. Delivery
came from god, maybe,
because you are made of angel,
you look like it, anyway.
A box. A box? Boring.
But you are bored, so you open it.
What’s inside, Pandora?
Just another gift,
to distract you from the boredom
of leisured life, inanely full?
But no- there is nothing inside,
there you have your answer.
Not even the gift of empty
ennui saves from vicious
Hope, which you well know
is but a diversion from fact
that nothing like it exists;
oh well, time to do your nails, now.
Go for red. Red suits you.
Don’t forget to discard those broken eggs from earlier
And close the door behind you,
It is too loud outside.
diachronic diatonic of tone
phonetic, shows only that nuance
in language is of no essential difference then and now;
sophistication is not a consequence of time-
meanings are no more precise than
primal utterances guttural; the only development
we make is that we would mythologize
and manipulate semantic value
where we see fit to make alterations
in accommodation for situated issues
in our lives, which necessitate that we must
enhance or alleviate circumstances that
are difficult to rationalize without the correct
word to rectify, without the vocabulary to justify
that in fact all sounds amount to nothing more
than that which we assign to be the easiest
conceivable thing. think about love- love
is in everything: not because it necessarily is
but because in love we imbue the value
of goodness, of workings in life
that possess nice sentiments- we think making
love as linguistic reference will mean
that idealism would manifest in the real.
but this is only talk: everything we only say
is only talk, of no more veracity
than a mindless touch- but lucky you
elucidation means we are more than just
automata, even if this is only due to that
human language is seen as the apex
of eloquence- lucky us, we can defend
and repent for our wrongs with
emotively imbued phrases which have power
to exonerate us, because we all
want the illusion of
i would like to know if Contradiction
likes to contradict itself.
if Yes, Contradiction would abide in the affirmative
of the question i ask; which would contradict its very nature
to contradict. to answer true that Contradiction likes to contradict
reveals some kind of agreeability and congruence in its own will to do
what it does; but if this were the case, Contradiction would not be contradicting itself, because it agrees with its own essence- therefore it would fraud. this seems too easy.
yet, if No, then I cannot be sure whether
Contradiction says no
to contradict me, the observer, or to contradict itself; if contradiction
only says no to contradict me, then it would break the fact that it must only follow from itself to say no, not the observer, otherwise i would be the one making it contradict. but if it says no to
contradict itself, then it has not answered the question at all, because it is not stated as the truth that was asked of it- henceforth achieving
nothing at all, not even contradiction; there is simply no reference to verity, because contradiction answered in the negative to necessarily contradict itself, not because it would like to- thus making it such that contradiction is unsure of itself- which would not count for anything.
so either way something ends up a lie or ends in ambiguity, which veers away from the ontological goal, which means that all answers would answer
of the question set forth for explication, which means
everything is absurd
like asking for snake and getting a rainbow in return-
a nice distraction from the original request, to be sure,
but essentially meaningless in that a rainbow is not snake,
and if snake is the thing that we need, then
why on earth are there rainbows? even if they are pretty.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ji Young Lee is a recent graduate of English and Philosophy. She spends most of her free time hoop-dancing or writing.
First published in 3:AM Magazine: Friday, August 9th, 2013.