Tempestuous

Issue seven: poem by Colleen Andersen

We are delighted to share with you a poem by the esteemed poet Colleen Anderson, which draws on the traditional story of ຈຳປາສີ່ຕົ້ນ (The four frangipani trees), a story in which a frangipani tree gives new life to four young princes who are murdered by their stepmother. In an essay about the frangipani, Champa Meuanglao tells a story about a young Lao gardener, Somdi, who first told her the story of ‘The four frangipani trees’, and then said that his father had planted some frangipani against the advice of his neighbours. When the gardener’s brother died, the father cut down the trees and destroyed them. Vilayleck writes:

Somdi thinks that people who do not have the power or the authority … should not plant frangipani trees. Only those with amnat or power, like the monks in in the temple or the king in his palace, can plant them. This perception of the frangipani is the same all over Southeast Asia. People can try to tame the tree but it remains a “brooding presence, a primordial force”.

As you read this evocative narrative poem by Colleen, we hope you will think of a beautiful frangipani tree, and of its deep, sweet, primordial scent!

Traditional image of a frangipani tree and a young child, on a south-east Asian tile. Artist and date unknown.

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Tempestuous

We might have been four squalling babes
born of our mother, the second wife
chubby fists defiantly punching
waiting to show fallow first queen Ańgī
barren, bereft without any children
her place nothing if she couldn’t produce

             We were four spirits
                          Screaming into furious primal life

We might have been a foil reflecting jealousy
in Ańgī’s life devoid of princes
until she cast us away, flotsam in the river
replaced us with puppies
though a king less foolish
should have questioned why his wife bore dogs

             We were four winds
                          Shifting the current of the future

We might have been an ending
but for the gardener fishing us from the river
to foster, flourish, rampage in rampant growth
until Ańgī found us, fed us cakes
saturated in the poison of her thwarted dreams
her success only in our decaying bodies

             We were four rivers
                          Flowing wild as untamed children

We might have been a sea of sorrows
our ashes in a basket mixed with tears
foster parents planting our remains in dark wet loam
their love and loss kindling dormant dreams
to reach out to the sun as frangipani trees
transforming through death and tenacious as life

             We were four fires
                          Searing through a web of plots

We might have been resilience overwhelming
Ańgī’s enduring hatred as hatchets hacking
could not fell our firm trunks and fragrant flowers
impeding Ańgī’s anger; she could not eradicate
her fate though she uprooted us
time and again to float downriver

             We were four lands
                          No matter how eroded, we never disappear

We might have been nourished
water flowing through our fiber
dormant logs upon the riverbank
when a hermit found us, could not resist plucking
our sweet, fleshy flowers releasing our fragrance
and oozing blood onto our branches

             We were four elements
                          Tempered by a cyclic journey

We might have stayed frangipani trees
until a priest ordered us blessed and burned
our wooden bones sprinkled with sacred water
no matter how Ańgī hunted
we would always spring anew
four healthy boys to rule the lands

             We are four devaputta
                          Our eternal spirit can no more be diverted
                          Than the natural course of the seasons

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Multiple award-nominated and award-winning author Colleen Anderson has been widely published across seven countries, with works appearing in publications such as Weird tales, Cemetery dance, Amazing, and the award-winning anthology Shadow atlas. She is a Rhysling Award winner for “Machine (r)Evolution” and a two-time winner of the SFPA’s dwarf poetry contest. Based in Vancouver, BC, she has been a Canada Council, BC Arts Council, and Ladies of Horror Fiction grant recipient. Her poetry collections include The lore of inscrutable dreams, I dreamed a world, and Weird worlds, as well as fiction collections A Body of Work and Embers Amongst the Fallen—all of which are available online. Her fourth collection Vellum leaves & lettered skins, has been published by Raw Dog Screaming Press.