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note : image edit using several copyright free sources, blended into the poem's narrative.
My 17th composed poem since June 2022 was inspired from a phrase that Joyce Lee said in her music stream (homepage here), from 2 or 3 weeks ago, something about a stalemate between a dragon and a phoenix (perhaps not exactly in that wording, I don't recall precisely).
The lines grew organically, and, as I composed the poem both in English and French adaptation on the spot, it became this 439 words long piece below - resulting both from a stream of consciousness writing as I often do, but also a lot of reflecting, attempting various words, rhymes and topics. I can't even count the rejected portions, nor individual words anymore.
The Dragon et the Phoenix
That dark night, the eggshell started to crack.
The embryo within was ready to emerge in advance.
Its sound snapped the dragon out of its selfish absorption.
Cold feet, or perhaps a vague portent stirred in his mind.
With all his might, he threw a beat and a whack.
Regardless of many efforts, he missed his chance.
The egg hatched into a curious constitution,
for a chick's plumage outward shined
A small dragon he had imagined seeing, like a reflection in his narcissistic mirror !
His own echo he wanted to propel.
A net he cast over, immobilizing his nestling.
Laboriously, his tiny body he extricated outta this trap.
Once again facing him, the Dragon breathed out a poisonous vapor.
The bird regained consciousness ensuing a faint under this reeking spell.
With his deep and threatening voice, the dragon oozed incisions of fear in his fledgling.
Using his tail he caught the growing juvenile's legs into a tight wrap.
Every attempt from the Snake to create an offspring compliant
was met by the bird's wings flexing and a stance more defiant.
The feathered creature's true form revealed as the bird of fire and resurgence.
The Phoenix stood courageously proclaiming from the Dragon's utter divergence.
For many moons had the Snake flicked his tongue, preparing his scion to bite.
They were now on a ring, the dragon, the phoenix and the writer, Fate.
The lizard whetted his claws and thorns, snide pursuits shifted to open fight.
Blow after blow he hit the phoenix, dealing damage to the head, in hate.
The dragon's nails scratching his skin and puncturing his heart,
the Phoenix refused to yield , his Egg kept bringing him back to bodily life.
Ash after ash pile, though he often fell apart,
with ardor he came back, renewed, and bruised again and again, that was their strife.
His treachery grew, the dragon's hits were all illegally dealt but no penalty called,
he was jury, judge and executioner, with the sole goal of gaining over the bird.
Irked of his failures, in anger the dragon screamed, hatching I wish I'd stalled ;
Clipping your wings, subjugating to my will and assimilating into my Flight
amounted to arduous and vain endeavors, a dragon's drudgery and wasted fires.
The Phoenix stretched his wings, he knew if he didn't escape, his skin would scald,
for there can never be peace when the belligerent dragon knows not such a word.
A stalemate forged in the distance, as the phoenix flew afar, freedom-enthralled
The bird began mending his wounds ; he had to learn to stand upright,
molt and breathe wholesome air, and to pursue his scattered desires.
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