2013 Sejong Writing Competition
Winning Entries :: Sijo
They say go, return to land that I don't know. It makes no sense.
Born and raised American, so Mexico is still foreign.
Culture kept, but this is my home. Immigrant, no: Hispanic.
A pool of ink spillled across the floor, spreading and spreading.
Glitter tipped out a mason jar that sparkles in the light.
A universe made of glittering stars and an ink black sky in seconds, creation simplified.
The vast, white fields of snow fly by as I awake from a nap
In surprise, I wonder if it is all a dream or reality.
As I come to my senses, I realize it is cotton fields.
Beauty in a Black Pond
The shimmering moonlight glistens on the dark black pond.
A beautiful dragonfly peers down into the abyss.
Its wing falls into the water, making the pond glow with glee.
Childhood memoires infest my head with splendid visions.
In my parents' room I was impervious to sorrow.
Now it is smothered in disease and Death peers in the windows.
The antique, majestic house sat on the beach watching the ocean for decades.
It saw families come and go as generations pass and children turn to parents.
Gone in minutes, a tidal wave erased walls and memories in one sweep.
A midsummer's day shades to night, leaves me to my crystal refuge.
My stomach full of earth's fruit, I tuck myself safe and snug.
The moon slivers out, I cover my head. When I wake, I will fly.
Did Adam stop and wonder
when he saw Eve start to age?
Was he surprised to see
the skin around her eyes
begin to sag, like that of an apple
left too long in the sun?
I wander in the white forest, trying to find others like me.
Hunting prey gets trying and loneliness consumes me.
I sometimes ask myself out loud, “Am I the only one out here?”
The Cellist, The Emancipator
The bend of the aged wood
fits snug in my chest: it and I are one.
Wound metal against soft hair—
that was once wild, organic,
that is now tame, synthetic—
it frees doves from their monochrome cage.