Longing
Like waves
rolling in the distance
exalting you
with the space
of their silence
Monday, November 19, 2007
Morning Comes
So I am again a chieftain
wrapped in lion skin gowns
as ceremony commences
& barefoot dancers pound the dusty ground
and spirits seep forth from the Earth
Feathered women join
with breasts rolling
& drums beat heavy rhythm
w/ bouncing fingers
pounding skin membrane
& razor spiked teeth flashing thru the dust
screams pierce forth - screeching
as feathers swirl and are lost to earth
the beat-soaked mass mingling
rings for air
shoulders spray sweat & eyes bounce bulging
as desert earth bursts dancing
and white light explodes -
an image of old Eden
then
only dust
settling on earth
& the chieftain's throne
standing empty in the silence
- 2004, 2007
So I am again a chieftain
wrapped in lion skin gowns
as ceremony commences
& barefoot dancers pound the dusty ground
and spirits seep forth from the Earth
Feathered women join
with breasts rolling
& drums beat heavy rhythm
w/ bouncing fingers
pounding skin membrane
& razor spiked teeth flashing thru the dust
screams pierce forth - screeching
as feathers swirl and are lost to earth
the beat-soaked mass mingling
rings for air
shoulders spray sweat & eyes bounce bulging
as desert earth bursts dancing
and white light explodes -
an image of old Eden
then
only dust
settling on earth
& the chieftain's throne
standing empty in the silence
- 2004, 2007
Our Song
A shadow - a tear
a sigh caught on glass
the flutter of wings.
Be still - for I heard something
that reminded me
and must have been -
our song.
Evening. Night. Whispers on the terrace
over the glowing tip
of a cigarette
I can't see the wind
but I can hear the leaves rustle -
and there -
it must be!
They're playing our song
Ssh... don't cry -
because it had to be
long ago - the moon was shining
our song being played far away.
A shadow - a tear
a sigh caught on glass
the flutter of wings.
Be still - for I heard something
that reminded me
and must have been -
our song.
Evening. Night. Whispers on the terrace
over the glowing tip
of a cigarette
I can't see the wind
but I can hear the leaves rustle -
and there -
it must be!
They're playing our song
Ssh... don't cry -
because it had to be
long ago - the moon was shining
our song being played far away.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
I wrote the poem below yesterday, with the central line an allusion to something I had written a time ago. Not only did I find the original entry today morning, but I discovered, much to my amusement, that it had been written exactly 3 years ago.
At Home Again
my sobs ricochet
like glass breaking
in the empty hallway
the hanging coats
carve shadows
through the milky entrance glow
Oh, and see
What happened to the light!
She has curled up
exhausted on the floor
Her silver forehead
is a pillow
shuddering softly
on the heedless linoleum.
yet as she turns her head slowly
in teary pain
to look up at me, locked in anguish
suddenly, our eyes flash -
as if we could understand!
Oh, you gentle, silent Goddess!
your silver soul and I
caught in this poisoned well
- 5 November 2007
Epilog
Und wenn wir eines Tages
aufwachen - ohne Freunde -
vielleicht auch ohne Glück
Lass uns dann gen Himmel
schauen und sagen:
Macht nichts!
Wir verstehen uns!
- 5 November 2004
At Home Again
my sobs ricochet
like glass breaking
in the empty hallway
the hanging coats
carve shadows
through the milky entrance glow
Oh, and see
What happened to the light!
She has curled up
exhausted on the floor
Her silver forehead
is a pillow
shuddering softly
on the heedless linoleum.
yet as she turns her head slowly
in teary pain
to look up at me, locked in anguish
suddenly, our eyes flash -
as if we could understand!
Oh, you gentle, silent Goddess!
your silver soul and I
caught in this poisoned well
- 5 November 2007
Epilog
Und wenn wir eines Tages
aufwachen - ohne Freunde -
vielleicht auch ohne Glück
Lass uns dann gen Himmel
schauen und sagen:
Macht nichts!
Wir verstehen uns!
- 5 November 2004
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