Small Hours

 

“I Lost my bottle

when you are

you threw your arms around me

sending you back to her

although I could never keep you

caught in the impossibility

of choice

of love

of freedom

of loss

and arms your love

feels around me”

                         Donnellan, Desmond

***

The bog that was the sink

and the leeching

brown gurgling

of days

stretching

and piling

Among the cracks

dripping

time drags

the leaking of

moldy teabags

congealed

drains, echoes

plummeting

Heavy in the air

wine only

got thicker as

sluggish, the words

tumbled

crawling

from your pen

“you lost your bottle”

****

The radical

merciless perspective

the angular change in vision

that death forces

upon the living

****

                      

****

Bedtime in the sunlight

Spring crawls towards the Arctic
like some
s l o w
lumbering
BEAR

He grumbles, sometimes
burdened as he is
by trails of birds
fluttering
heavy with song
They burst over you
fireworks
in the townlight
if you aren't

careful.

His head
does ache
with the bobbing
incessant
of pregnant buds
sowed in print
unfurling!
as he trudges along
sniffing
the thawing snow
out
and
away!

***

Per a Annia... And for you too

Refill

Stretched across rails, mires and sugarless coffee

***

25 - Isnaj Dui & Andy Nice - Bones by Arctic Circle Radio

" Il a mis le café
Dans la tasse
Il a mis le lait
Dans la tasse de café
Il a mis le sucre
Dans le café au lait
Avec la petite cuiller
Il a tourné
Il a bu le café au lait
Et il a reposé la tasse
Sans me parler
Il a allumé
Une cigarette
Il a fait des ronds
Avec la fumée
Il a mis les cendres
Dans le cendrier
Sans me parler
Sans me regarder
Il s'est levé
Il a mis
Son chapeau sur sa tête
Il a mis
Son manteau de pluie
Parce qu'il pleuvait
Et il est parti
Sous la pluie
Sans une parole
Sans me regarder
Et moi j'ai pris
Ma tête dans ma main
Et j'ai pleuré"

JACQUES PRÉVERT (Déjeuner du matin)

Electra's Congratulations

" I am accustoming myself to the idea of regarding every sexual act as a process in which four people are involved. We shall have a lot to discuss about that."

S.FREUD: Letters

"There are two positions available to us--either crime which renders us happy, or the noose, which prevents us from being unhappy. I ask whether there can be any hesitation, lovely Thérèse, and where will your little mind find an argument able to combat that one?"

D.A.F DE SADE: Les Malheurs de la vertu.

 

I watched it, opalescent dark image inkily

layered out, glistening on the bus window

And though I knew I was there, crisscrossed

by rails, seats and stop buttons

polished mussel shells,

no recognition came

And just above the plastic arm rest read

Christ, as just another dent stretching

seen on the line encrusted ruler of lead

Not so far from the 22^nd mark

I seemed and seamed

myself, allocated to.

I heard then the devilish laughter

Freud at the front row raising his

wine glass in mocking red salute

Electra's' eyes brimmed full

of satisfied ruby contempt

she may be cursed but

in this, dammit,

she is not

alone.

***

  

***

Polar sunshine

Burst forth from

egg shaped tears
                   little bluebirds.
Cut crystal spray

of shattered shells

                   filled the skies.

into painless blue

they dissolved

and Bukowski
he moaned.

***

FIELDHEAD - an arrow by Gizeh

"... there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do

you?" 

[Bukowski. "The Last Night of the Earth Poems" - Bluebird ]

(and the sound to the lines)

SLEEPINGDOG - Polish Love Song by Gizeh

Delilah till frukost

- Every morning, before he popped bread in the toaster,

even, mind you, before water touched the lime

encrusted spirals laying at the depths of the kettle

Samson sat down and with a long whetstone

he expertly, acutely and with great care

sharpened his scissors.

No wonder a slow drawn shudder

slithered down his fast-full spine

as he fished out, spoon glistening

a long hair red tresses once disowned 

from his perfectly brewed breakfast tea -

"He replied, “If you weave the seven braids of my head into the fabric on the loom and tighten it with the pin, I’ll become as weak as any other man.” So while he was sleeping, Delilah took the seven braids of his head, wove them into the fabric and tightened it with the pin."

[ The Judges  16:13 ]