All 3 entries tagged Poetry
March 11, 2005
—Remembrance is your world, to Tong
No living men can fly, but you could.
A sweaty Sunday afternoon, I could not see
the high place where you stood.
Like a swift drawing on the sofa, I could not see
the contour of your body, nor
The curvature of the flight.
In that sweaty bamming afternoon
You were there, landed in solitude.
Eyes open, sight faded.
I only listened, not even there,
But I guessed you saw me, I don't know why
No dead men can ever fly, but you did.
December 02, 2004
I will strike you without anger
And without hatred, like a butcher,
Like Moses the rock!
And I will force from your eyes,
To water my Sahara,
The waters of suffering.
My desire, swollen with hope,
Will swim upon your salted tears
Like a ship taking to the open sea,
And in my heart, which they intoxicate,
Your dear sobs will echo
Like a drum sounding the charge!
Am I not a false note
In the divine harmony,
Thanks to the voracious Irony
That shakes me and bites me?
She is in my voice, the shrew!
All of my blood is made of this black poison!
I am the sinister mirror
In which the Fury gazes at herself.
I am the wound and the knife!
I am the slap and the cheek!
I am the limbs and the rack,
And the victim and the executioner!
I am the vampire of my own heart,
— One of the great abandoned,
Condemned to eternal laughter,
And who can no longer smile!