LES SIX
Inspired by Cocteau
and Satie
music like day dreams
of the snow
From Darius Milhaud
and Louis Durey
playing themes
on violin,piano and cello.
Friday, February 28, 2014
THE BLOOMSBURY GROUP
Hidden in academic lairs
Keynes and Strachey
sit in their wicker chairs
with chips on their shoulders
relax in unanimous chatter
over an economy's chart,
with grapes to their lips
covering up the latest gossip
telling us who really matters,
Too taxed today to tell about
their anonymous enemies
from their mind's full well
in a future biography's page,
Joined by Clive Bell
playing his engaged part
as modern art's scalpel
in his significant form,
When the Woolfs' depart
beginning to show their age
their shared words
scatter brilliantly
in the arbitrary weather
for another literary storm
becoming all the rage.
Hidden in academic lairs
Keynes and Strachey
sit in their wicker chairs
with chips on their shoulders
relax in unanimous chatter
over an economy's chart,
with grapes to their lips
covering up the latest gossip
telling us who really matters,
Too taxed today to tell about
their anonymous enemies
from their mind's full well
in a future biography's page,
Joined by Clive Bell
playing his engaged part
as modern art's scalpel
in his significant form,
When the Woolfs' depart
beginning to show their age
their shared words
scatter brilliantly
in the arbitrary weather
for another literary storm
becoming all the rage.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
IN MELVILLE'S HONOR
When in Polynesia
jumping ship
composing Typee
as if in amnesia
or in a dare
voyages wave you on
for worship to nature
in a far country
over the South Seas air,
You too it seems were
Ishmael in exile of land
who could turn tail
at the drop of God's hand
when he sees the whale
and all his dreams fail,
You were there
as a scrivener in an office
in the city world of business
you confess like Bartleby
when you cannot cope,
With Billy Budd on the ocean
may cry out for a kiss
instead of a rope
for Melville's novels
swim in words of abyss
yet metaphoric hope,
At first unappreciated
in his early diaries
full of conflicted religiosity
later biographies
he pleases Jesus
then skeptically curses
demeaning apocalyptically
all his own life's atrocities,
Now Melville hangs
in his sarcophagus coffin
interred in his darkness
of blasphemies,
who turned original sin
into as a fulfilled athiest
not on a whim,
but as discipline
from a Calvinist like this
in his chapter and verse
sang his own miracle hymn,
We still desire to visit you
often thrilled by
this poet's profound way
of expressing our despair
smitten by your travel fire
on a journey to get away
yet your oracles and curse
do not soften us to this day
as we tarry here.
When in Polynesia
jumping ship
composing Typee
as if in amnesia
or in a dare
voyages wave you on
for worship to nature
in a far country
over the South Seas air,
You too it seems were
Ishmael in exile of land
who could turn tail
at the drop of God's hand
when he sees the whale
and all his dreams fail,
You were there
as a scrivener in an office
in the city world of business
you confess like Bartleby
when you cannot cope,
With Billy Budd on the ocean
may cry out for a kiss
instead of a rope
for Melville's novels
swim in words of abyss
yet metaphoric hope,
At first unappreciated
in his early diaries
full of conflicted religiosity
later biographies
he pleases Jesus
then skeptically curses
demeaning apocalyptically
all his own life's atrocities,
Now Melville hangs
in his sarcophagus coffin
interred in his darkness
of blasphemies,
who turned original sin
into as a fulfilled athiest
not on a whim,
but as discipline
from a Calvinist like this
in his chapter and verse
sang his own miracle hymn,
We still desire to visit you
often thrilled by
this poet's profound way
of expressing our despair
smitten by your travel fire
on a journey to get away
yet your oracles and curse
do not soften us to this day
as we tarry here.
MY TASK AS A POET
At an early time
in sorry sightings
I knew my task
was to sum up
the age
in story and writings,
a poet is strange
so why ask
to be understood
by my language host,
this is a good friend
as spirit and ghost
who take off my mask
why do I pretend
or boast,
My muse
refuses to be lethargic
without courage or limit,
on earth and space
waging his diction,
to complete the race
with grit and grace
in aesthetic fiction,
Here at my critic's pace
an actor on every stage
cross a star's heaven
in wind and cloud
with theatrical acumen
locate my literary shroud,
and close the page,
Passing arbitrary leaven
with so much fun
over the crowd and masses
from a logical phenomenon,
Linking up with those poets
who gravitate to the past
or current avant-garde,
allowing every murmur
of fear and trembling
to haunt me as Kafka
or Kierkegaard,
outside this globe's stage
with a possibility of rumor
orating with a fearful
Shakespearian rage,
my hour disses
now dismisses with a beer,
into this abyss of a cage
and manage
a last spent kiss,
with some class
on this creator's last page,
we will expect to wink at you
in Russian- American humor
from the globe's stage
and proudly drink
a glass of kvas
to poetry's homage.
At an early time
in sorry sightings
I knew my task
was to sum up
the age
in story and writings,
a poet is strange
so why ask
to be understood
by my language host,
this is a good friend
as spirit and ghost
who take off my mask
why do I pretend
or boast,
My muse
refuses to be lethargic
without courage or limit,
on earth and space
waging his diction,
to complete the race
with grit and grace
in aesthetic fiction,
Here at my critic's pace
an actor on every stage
cross a star's heaven
in wind and cloud
with theatrical acumen
locate my literary shroud,
and close the page,
Passing arbitrary leaven
with so much fun
over the crowd and masses
from a logical phenomenon,
Linking up with those poets
who gravitate to the past
or current avant-garde,
allowing every murmur
of fear and trembling
to haunt me as Kafka
or Kierkegaard,
outside this globe's stage
with a possibility of rumor
orating with a fearful
Shakespearian rage,
my hour disses
now dismisses with a beer,
into this abyss of a cage
and manage
a last spent kiss,
with some class
on this creator's last page,
we will expect to wink at you
in Russian- American humor
from the globe's stage
and proudly drink
a glass of kvas
to poetry's homage.
GEORGES SAND
Would your belle lettres
be understood today
or would the censors
ask for a solitary stay
for your life style,
yet Chopin corresponds
as any great composer
art its own pretender
and there is no denial
that he has chosen her
as his concerto plays
its solitary notes
from gesture and gender
he is no sickly poseur
to George Sand's heart,
for culture is a contender
for his lover's quotes
in a romantic two- way part.
Would your belle lettres
be understood today
or would the censors
ask for a solitary stay
for your life style,
yet Chopin corresponds
as any great composer
art its own pretender
and there is no denial
that he has chosen her
as his concerto plays
its solitary notes
from gesture and gender
he is no sickly poseur
to George Sand's heart,
for culture is a contender
for his lover's quotes
in a romantic two- way part.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Tolstoy
When we are young
and soak up
the sun and rain
and even walk on ice
with guitars for peace
posters for justice
with every good refrain,
Then in the park and woods
as seasons age as stars
and spring welcomes
its birch trees,
our love compacts run away
as in a breeze of alabaster,
We will read you
and not cease
until we have understood
on our moving knees
the Russian master.
When we are young
and soak up
the sun and rain
and even walk on ice
with guitars for peace
posters for justice
with every good refrain,
Then in the park and woods
as seasons age as stars
and spring welcomes
its birch trees,
our love compacts run away
as in a breeze of alabaster,
We will read you
and not cease
until we have understood
on our moving knees
the Russian master.
GOGOL
Who would have believed
in the twenty first century,
you Gogol, of all people
called a dwarf at school
and worse,
who wrote about a nose
and overcoat
would now be the most cool,
you who wrote a literary
"Diary of a Madman,"
cursed and burnt
his manuscript
licked with thoughts of Hell
and reactionary tool
is now a comic rebel
once laughed at
as a holy fool
now with elan and publicity
you,yes you,Gogol ,rule.
Who would have believed
in the twenty first century,
you Gogol, of all people
called a dwarf at school
and worse,
who wrote about a nose
and overcoat
would now be the most cool,
you who wrote a literary
"Diary of a Madman,"
cursed and burnt
his manuscript
licked with thoughts of Hell
and reactionary tool
is now a comic rebel
once laughed at
as a holy fool
now with elan and publicity
you,yes you,Gogol ,rule.
TURGENEV
Scenting the birches
of two centuries
spring is like resin
the days are uneasy
the country house
has no visitors
yet enough light
to write by the doors
A letter from Henry James
to correspond with
a warmth by the fire
better be undisturbed
Remembered Flaubert
at a cafe in Paris
James called him a votary
devoted and not embarrassed
for a novelist takes care
of every phrase to control
in hazy margins he dares
to reveal the sins of a soul.
Scenting the birches
of two centuries
spring is like resin
the days are uneasy
the country house
has no visitors
yet enough light
to write by the doors
A letter from Henry James
to correspond with
a warmth by the fire
better be undisturbed
Remembered Flaubert
at a cafe in Paris
James called him a votary
devoted and not embarrassed
for a novelist takes care
of every phrase to control
in hazy margins he dares
to reveal the sins of a soul.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
HART CRANE'S VOYAGE
When dawn
by the Gulf breath
tames its waves
bodies fall from skies
you salt their graves
With veils of words
as sad mourning clouds
capturing the names
of hunters and fishers
in pale swan shrouds,
Weep to save a lost bird
in troubled rain
from the bridge's crowds
by a sail's yawn,
keep us, Hart Crane
in unbowed knowledge
from the faults of death.
When dawn
by the Gulf breath
tames its waves
bodies fall from skies
you salt their graves
With veils of words
as sad mourning clouds
capturing the names
of hunters and fishers
in pale swan shrouds,
Weep to save a lost bird
in troubled rain
from the bridge's crowds
by a sail's yawn,
keep us, Hart Crane
in unbowed knowledge
from the faults of death.
C.S. LEWIS
1898-1963
Four loves to humanity
friendship,affection
eros and charity
under your cross,
you write with clarity
and not indifference
or disparity to impress
you have retold Bunyan's
Pilgrim's Progress,
and to express Dante's
manifold creation's story,
From outer space novels
man also fails his idolatry
and in his brilliant rants
in Screwtape Letters
about the human race
we are no betters,
in Narnia and other tales
humans are but two-faced
and in the Great Divorce
a bus from 'Purgatory'
without a chance in Hell
to Heaven's glory,of course.
1898-1963
Four loves to humanity
friendship,affection
eros and charity
under your cross,
you write with clarity
and not indifference
or disparity to impress
you have retold Bunyan's
Pilgrim's Progress,
and to express Dante's
manifold creation's story,
From outer space novels
man also fails his idolatry
and in his brilliant rants
in Screwtape Letters
about the human race
we are no betters,
in Narnia and other tales
humans are but two-faced
and in the Great Divorce
a bus from 'Purgatory'
without a chance in Hell
to Heaven's glory,of course.
DOROTHY SAYERS
1893-1957
On New England's
small acre
I read your
"Mind of your Maker,"
we scan your creation
of detective stories
in brilliant ratiocination
with Lord Wimsey's follies,
in all library stations we find
your rewarding Divine Comedy,
now you are too translated
beyond living parody and folly.
1893-1957
On New England's
small acre
I read your
"Mind of your Maker,"
we scan your creation
of detective stories
in brilliant ratiocination
with Lord Wimsey's follies,
in all library stations we find
your rewarding Divine Comedy,
now you are too translated
beyond living parody and folly.
Monday, February 24, 2014
CHARLES TOMLINSON
Meditating with Davie
yet convulsed by the age
in the not so gentle
English academic halls
we turn over a page,
Burning with your Muse
to inflame words on fire
unraveling language
as a lily flower,
as a lily flower,
your glance rises
with a gentle desire
with a gentle desire
for a dance of the hour,
With proverbs
mounting over
each creation's stage
each creation's stage
(in experimental
fragmentation)
fragmentation)
with a traveler's wish
not to age,
not to age,
Yet to be cast
from small iconic fragility
from small iconic fragility
and last beyond
your stations,
your stations,
now you too are translated
beyond all used bookstalls
in hundreds of nations.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
MAYAKOVSKY'S WALK ABOUT
On wintry days
you sing to yourself
along the snow kissed Arbat
in enigmatic tenderness
for the clear exiled sun
bread rolled up
under your arms
with ripe fruit
scraping through
another Decembrist day
through acrobatic shades
of elemental vision
exhausted from trusting
the weightless shadow
of your last composition.
On wintry days
you sing to yourself
along the snow kissed Arbat
in enigmatic tenderness
for the clear exiled sun
bread rolled up
under your arms
with ripe fruit
scraping through
another Decembrist day
through acrobatic shades
of elemental vision
exhausted from trusting
the weightless shadow
of your last composition.
TO THE EAST
(For W.G. Sebald)
Sent to the East
never returning back
no one spoke of it
not the least Party hack
At the Gulag or Treblinka
no one passes a smile
history lags like a beast
on these snowy miles
The barracks are gone
where sister died
as a motionless swan,
no room on the ocean side
We cannot find her
in so much airy snow
searching everywhere
by a crushed doomed crow
Feeling a bit weird
here on this earth
watching a bird,
what are we worth?
There is only death
without a kin of hope
even to wash
dousing potato skin soap,
We know the powers
of the ruling states
for God's sake,flowers
on a faceless fate?
(For W.G. Sebald)
Sent to the East
never returning back
no one spoke of it
not the least Party hack
At the Gulag or Treblinka
no one passes a smile
history lags like a beast
on these snowy miles
The barracks are gone
where sister died
as a motionless swan,
no room on the ocean side
We cannot find her
in so much airy snow
searching everywhere
by a crushed doomed crow
Feeling a bit weird
here on this earth
watching a bird,
what are we worth?
There is only death
without a kin of hope
even to wash
dousing potato skin soap,
We know the powers
of the ruling states
for God's sake,flowers
on a faceless fate?
ROY CAMPBELL
A Muse on the literary side
decides on a mark of the Beast
chooses the Spanish military
riding with a vanished priest,
He expects no Loyalist loss
from dark pain and trouble
won't connect a double cross
in Republican or Royalist rubble
Campbell prefers a Marian lyric
to glory in a sectarian story
in civil war, it's only Pyrrhic Victory
retelling an Orwellian history.
A Muse on the literary side
decides on a mark of the Beast
chooses the Spanish military
riding with a vanished priest,
He expects no Loyalist loss
from dark pain and trouble
won't connect a double cross
in Republican or Royalist rubble
Campbell prefers a Marian lyric
to glory in a sectarian story
in civil war, it's only Pyrrhic Victory
retelling an Orwellian history.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
T.S. ELIOT'S MARRIAGES
With TS. Eliot's sound ear
he is able to make his place
like Lancelot
among his peers
yet around the round table
there was a King Arthur
a rival for a poem's loyalty
the estranged well known Pound
like a pretender to the throne
plotting to change the thunder
of "The Wasteland"
scribbling on
Eliot's first poetry paper,
wanting him as a protege
among pagan dry bones
to reign in a Hades underground,
yet a new Vivienne as a lover
the lady Valerie, Eliot's defender
appears on Royalty's scene
like a wonder woman Guinivere
who is under cover as a queen.
With TS. Eliot's sound ear
he is able to make his place
like Lancelot
among his peers
yet around the round table
there was a King Arthur
a rival for a poem's loyalty
the estranged well known Pound
like a pretender to the throne
plotting to change the thunder
of "The Wasteland"
scribbling on
Eliot's first poetry paper,
wanting him as a protege
among pagan dry bones
to reign in a Hades underground,
yet a new Vivienne as a lover
the lady Valerie, Eliot's defender
appears on Royalty's scene
like a wonder woman Guinivere
who is under cover as a queen.
Friday, February 21, 2014
JOHN OSBORNE'S DAY
Those passing in chatter
over private plays
gone public
as an involvement
preferable
to speak in acts
and torpid scenes
of resentment against
downing st. speeches
against the exorcised
capital and labour
sickness in London's
moment in post war
theater confronting fiction
from Georgian left overs
of mouthing sentences
with sterility in movement
those lines of consciousness
emerge with conviction.
Those passing in chatter
over private plays
gone public
as an involvement
preferable
to speak in acts
and torpid scenes
of resentment against
downing st. speeches
against the exorcised
capital and labour
sickness in London's
moment in post war
theater confronting fiction
from Georgian left overs
of mouthing sentences
with sterility in movement
those lines of consciousness
emerge with conviction.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
BECKETT'S PASSING
Still life rains flowers
in death fragments
no indifference
on your chance
acts to ignorance
in acts of your art,
perceptive to the grave
at seminal arrangements
an absence of words
fills in tearful laughter
in terminal estrangements
at perspective, save
what plays
after a metaphorical glance.
Still life rains flowers
in death fragments
no indifference
on your chance
acts to ignorance
in acts of your art,
perceptive to the grave
at seminal arrangements
an absence of words
fills in tearful laughter
in terminal estrangements
at perspective, save
what plays
after a metaphorical glance.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Monday, February 17, 2014
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Friday, February 14, 2014
BONHOEFFER
Far from the nameless
far side of history
there was a vast shame
in the age's trajectory
even the religious
had no less blame,
yet a man sure of voice
when a choice became clear
as government dictatorship
requires its scam
by giving out its stars
on coats for the damned,
culture was a mad veneer
even dissenter collaborators
could not worship,
only fear,
as Hitler's supporters
prefer to steal the art
of Rembrandt and Vermeer,
yet there was a loss
in the double cross
who found strength
in the cost.
Far from the nameless
far side of history
there was a vast shame
in the age's trajectory
even the religious
had no less blame,
yet a man sure of voice
when a choice became clear
as government dictatorship
requires its scam
by giving out its stars
on coats for the damned,
culture was a mad veneer
even dissenter collaborators
could not worship,
only fear,
as Hitler's supporters
prefer to steal the art
of Rembrandt and Vermeer,
yet there was a loss
in the double cross
who found strength
in the cost.
HISTORY
History like a play
can change in any act
in summary execution
from an understudy
or an inconvenient error
as in the denoument
of a political revolution,
as an ormolu sky
suddenly will have snow,
Robespierre with dreams,
as an innocence of Rousseau
until the reign of terror,
sometimes French rolls
simply fall from the table
like a couple of napoleans
devoured in creams.
History like a play
can change in any act
in summary execution
from an understudy
or an inconvenient error
as in the denoument
of a political revolution,
as an ormolu sky
suddenly will have snow,
Robespierre with dreams,
as an innocence of Rousseau
until the reign of terror,
sometimes French rolls
simply fall from the table
like a couple of napoleans
devoured in creams.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
VIENNA'S LAST WALTZ
1. The day before the Anschluss
2. Frau D with her cat
3. A Jewish gentleman dines in a hotel dining room
4. Announcement of a Mahler concert
5. A man speaks of the nobility of the soul
6. A woman writes in her diary of her beloved.
7. A Jesuit changes his suit.
8. A Jewish doctor saves a life.
9. Luger, the former antisemitic mayor has his picture put up.
10. " I told my neighbor,go to America, Russia or Palestine. Good luck."
11. "It says in the paper quoting Herr Hitler, Conscience is a Jewish
invention."
12. It's no time to dance.
1. The day before the Anschluss
2. Frau D with her cat
3. A Jewish gentleman dines in a hotel dining room
4. Announcement of a Mahler concert
5. A man speaks of the nobility of the soul
6. A woman writes in her diary of her beloved.
7. A Jesuit changes his suit.
8. A Jewish doctor saves a life.
9. Luger, the former antisemitic mayor has his picture put up.
10. " I told my neighbor,go to America, Russia or Palestine. Good luck."
11. "It says in the paper quoting Herr Hitler, Conscience is a Jewish
invention."
12. It's no time to dance.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
THE DOLL'S HOUSE
1938 The Landsmann daughter
Julie put in her final piece
of her doll house
a miniature of a green sofa
1939 The doll's house removed
by a neighbor
1940 Sold to a collaborator
in Rotterdam
by a Nazi soldier
for his daughter
at Christmas
1941 Transferred to another
by a transit station
1942 Delivered by an art dealer
1943 Missing
1944 Located in Vichy France
1945 Found by an American G.I.
1946 The doll's house
with the green sofa sold
to a New York City pawnbroker
1948 Julie, the only survivor
of the Landsmann family
walks by a doll's house
and notices the green sofa
yet cannot bare to enter
the shop or come back
1938 The Landsmann daughter
Julie put in her final piece
of her doll house
a miniature of a green sofa
1939 The doll's house removed
by a neighbor
1940 Sold to a collaborator
in Rotterdam
by a Nazi soldier
for his daughter
at Christmas
1941 Transferred to another
by a transit station
1942 Delivered by an art dealer
1943 Missing
1944 Located in Vichy France
1945 Found by an American G.I.
1946 The doll's house
with the green sofa sold
to a New York City pawnbroker
1948 Julie, the only survivor
of the Landsmann family
walks by a doll's house
and notices the green sofa
yet cannot bare to enter
the shop or come back
Monday, February 10, 2014
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Friday, February 7, 2014
WARHOL
A moon's eye opens
the Factory by daylight
as a runaway sleeps
on Andy's doorway
in a muscle shirt
wounded in 1966
from too many shots
in a shoeless artist pose
with his eyes circled
dresses and shaves
because life tells Andy
art is more about souls
and the dead sky
cannot speak
of a police state
a kid expects to die
in a used overcoat
near the cherry bomb politics
with a No Parking sign
over his sleep housed apparition.
A moon's eye opens
the Factory by daylight
as a runaway sleeps
on Andy's doorway
in a muscle shirt
wounded in 1966
from too many shots
in a shoeless artist pose
with his eyes circled
dresses and shaves
because life tells Andy
art is more about souls
and the dead sky
cannot speak
of a police state
a kid expects to die
in a used overcoat
near the cherry bomb politics
with a No Parking sign
over his sleep housed apparition.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
W.H AUDEN'S ENGLAND
(1901 -1973)
Out of Bloom
and Bloomsbury
before the Appeasement
when the government
and public school
started to lose
their private achievement,
Joyce nearby
disturbed literature
uniting the suburban
with an Irish proletarian voice
handing in their culture
on a silver platter
with Pernod
and the morning papers
showing a showy profit
once thought prophetic
now going all sectarian,
what does it really matter
it's all fellow traveling
W. H. with a peripatetic wink
calling everyone "mother",
"It's time for another drink"
from your sunken braided face
longing for the American sun
to set in a cold Icelandic space.
(1901 -1973)
Out of Bloom
and Bloomsbury
before the Appeasement
when the government
and public school
started to lose
their private achievement,
Joyce nearby
disturbed literature
uniting the suburban
with an Irish proletarian voice
handing in their culture
on a silver platter
with Pernod
and the morning papers
showing a showy profit
once thought prophetic
now going all sectarian,
what does it really matter
it's all fellow traveling
W. H. with a peripatetic wink
calling everyone "mother",
"It's time for another drink"
from your sunken braided face
longing for the American sun
to set in a cold Icelandic space.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
TADEUSZ ROZEWICZ
My brother
in harshness of bones
in wintry sleep housed
death,
it was this way
beginning in the Fall
at the silent hours,
a cry from an oven bird
of solitude
was heard on the ash tree
the woods
in the Black forest
a sackful of skeletons
hungry and young
on a Fool's Day
and full of ordinary blood.
My brother
in harshness of bones
in wintry sleep housed
death,
it was this way
beginning in the Fall
at the silent hours,
a cry from an oven bird
of solitude
was heard on the ash tree
the woods
in the Black forest
a sackful of skeletons
hungry and young
on a Fool's Day
and full of ordinary blood.
ILSE LASKER SCHULER
A poet self exiled
from Germany
once a citadel
of musical Kultur
undaunted in banishment
from the Assyrian hordes
on horseback
breaching the walls,
then one sunny
but pitiless day
a new mortuary
long in the making
of twenty centuries,
with dens cohabited
by finger printed
and appointed guards
with Party cards
a den of iniquity built up
branch by leafless branch
by half -baked historical
and rhetorical beasts
recalled by outfaced thugs
"National Socialism"
stashed and cashed
with trilling criminals
by closed
undisclosed windows
breathing out terrible air
of murderous rhetorical ink
on the very brink
of Moloch fires and ash,
Ilse, your voice sipping
from the same cup
of bitterness
drunk by the nations
culminating in tragedy
by deliberate
death chambers,
you escape a buried spot
in the somber winds
of Jerusalem.
A poet self exiled
from Germany
once a citadel
of musical Kultur
undaunted in banishment
from the Assyrian hordes
on horseback
breaching the walls,
then one sunny
but pitiless day
a new mortuary
long in the making
of twenty centuries,
with dens cohabited
by finger printed
and appointed guards
with Party cards
a den of iniquity built up
branch by leafless branch
by half -baked historical
and rhetorical beasts
recalled by outfaced thugs
"National Socialism"
stashed and cashed
with trilling criminals
by closed
undisclosed windows
breathing out terrible air
of murderous rhetorical ink
on the very brink
of Moloch fires and ash,
Ilse, your voice sipping
from the same cup
of bitterness
drunk by the nations
culminating in tragedy
by deliberate
death chambers,
you escape a buried spot
in the somber winds
of Jerusalem.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
NERUDA
The disappeared
granted a return
a respite from pain
with fervor and favor
making a solitude
in a grain of words
close to your hands
on time to recall
your metaphors
in all the sorrow and joy
of tomorrow's nest
in the alleys and fields
of the city's neighbors
and countryside poor
as sparrows and birds
rest,Neruda, rest.
The disappeared
granted a return
a respite from pain
with fervor and favor
making a solitude
in a grain of words
close to your hands
on time to recall
your metaphors
in all the sorrow and joy
of tomorrow's nest
in the alleys and fields
of the city's neighbors
and countryside poor
as sparrows and birds
rest,Neruda, rest.
LARKIN'S HAPPY HOUR
An echo still heard
in unceasing wind
as if the first ray
tracing the sun
never singed or shined
on the snowy hands
over Mayfair England
Morning radio jazz
not Charlie Parker
after a sleepless
vision of dead letter files,
a golden retriever
losing his walker
on an unexpected gazebo
in a photograph
at Brighton as a bird
hovers by
a ditch water sea
No city speech
is ever a body language
of an cursory speaker
announcing a bank holiday
shadowing forth
his all-out optimism
as he ends his day
at a three star hotel
in a medley
of ill composed lyricism
as a bar tender
name Karaoke Tuesday
a former soccer player
who changed his sex
for his social affectation
passes out poppies.
An echo still heard
in unceasing wind
as if the first ray
tracing the sun
never singed or shined
on the snowy hands
over Mayfair England
Morning radio jazz
not Charlie Parker
after a sleepless
vision of dead letter files,
a golden retriever
losing his walker
on an unexpected gazebo
in a photograph
at Brighton as a bird
hovers by
a ditch water sea
No city speech
is ever a body language
of an cursory speaker
announcing a bank holiday
shadowing forth
his all-out optimism
as he ends his day
at a three star hotel
in a medley
of ill composed lyricism
as a bar tender
name Karaoke Tuesday
a former soccer player
who changed his sex
for his social affectation
passes out poppies.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
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