Cold Heart, Strong Samurai

I feel like I’m just being immersed in words this month, which is a good thing, since I’m also being intermittently immersed in rain. At the moment, though, snow is falling, or maybe sleet, but it’s okay, I keep telling myself. I have no place to go, and nothing in particular to do this weekend. Most people would consider that to be boring, but with the wet and the muck outside, and the books inside, I see this to be a Really Great Thing.

I copied down this poem because… it’s not me. I think there’s a teensy riot grrl screeching mouse-like in my inner core. I wish this were me. Maybe it’s kind of like why young readers like fantasy literature; we wish to be powerful. If we were vampires, we’d be up all night, scare the crap out of the establishment, take insane risks with sunrise, be brilliantly sexy and of course — live forever. If we were witches, it’d be the same, except we’d have more power than to just eat people. And hey, if we had dragons…

So, I will muse further on my samurai; hard warriors with no time for anything but discipline and rules. As I said: so not me. But I like this poem anyway.

Samurai Song

           — by Robert Pinsky

When I had no roof I made

Audacity my roof. When I had

No supper my eyes dined.

When I had no eyes I listened.

When I had no ears I thought.

When I had no thought I waited.

When I had no father I made

Care my father. When I had

No mother I embraced order.

When I had no friend I made

Quiet my friend. When I had no

Enemy I opposed my body.

When I had no temple I made

My voice my temple. I have

No priest, my tongue is my choir.

When I have no means fortune

Is my means. When I have

Nothing, death will be my fortune.

Need is my tactic, detachment

Is my strategy. When I had

No lover I courted my sleep.

Listen to the author read this brilliant, cold poem and others here.

Why do I love this poem (other than the fact that Stephen Colbert said I should)? Its appeal to my inner warrior is strong, and it lures me into the idea that I can do something about everything. I can finesse the whole world. Or, barring that option, I can detach from it, and ignore it.

Which is a sort of power, too.

Maybe this is a love poem, to the self.

(I am strong. I am invincible.
I am, I am, I am.)


Poetry Friday is at Big A, little a. Thanks for visiting.

4 Replies to “Cold Heart, Strong Samurai”

  1. It’s not me either, though how I wish I had that kind of confidence in myself, in making great lemonade concoctions with lemons I’m given.

    I, too, shall chant along: I can, I can, I will, I will.

    (This a new blog? Like it.)

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