Falling above the lyrical moonscape
Of tattered iron wills and hem-less capes
The king of hearts finds himself dead again.
Ashes and soot from false volcanoes flow
In neon patterns that shape what I grow
Гадаа бороо орж байн. (Gadaa boroo orj bain)
Silence consumes Lazarus screams I hear
When flames burn cold, driving ships we can’t steer
The king of hearts finds himself dead again.
Marmot claws, like four-fingered fishermen,
Push rusted marble and fossils to dens
Гадаа бороо орж байн. (Gadaa boroo orj bain)
Atmosphere breaks and descent reverses course
As the sounds of now begin to make it worst
The king of hearts finds himself dead again.
Sprouting from rain-shattered soil and peat bog
The rot of new life sighs out a deep fog
Гадаа бороо орж байн. (Gadaa boroo orj bain)
Two projectiles in directions askew
Make contact, euphoric, fuse scents we knew
From home and duty that now confuse
That liberate chaos and set it loose
The king of hearts finds himself dead again;
Гадаа бороо орж байн. (Gadaa boroo orj bain)
Composed 12/13/12
Author’s Note: Guess who doesn’t know how to compose a villanelle? This guy! This was also part of a poetic challenge issued by a friend. The goal was to incorporate a language other than English into the poem. The obvious choice for the language was Mongolian. Trying for a villanelle was my idea. Alas.
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