Liberty / Oblique

Vaguely
reminiscent
of an ex
who axed
my heart,
years ago,
the forest
of me, leveled
with street,
I was so
struck by that
implement, that when
the chance to
defend myself
as I should have
defended myself
at the time
presented itself
recently

I took it,
and though I
said all the right
words, it was
to the wrong
person, so it
did not have
the impact
I hoped.
When is it
forgivable to
snarl?

When is it
forgivable
to curl up?
Wisdom is
the ability
to sustain
calamity.
Like a storm
in a cup,
heartbreak
in a heart,
safer in the eye,
more immortal in the art.

The difference between who and what, answered by roses on the stem

I gasp whenever I see this rose bed. I stare at roses indiscriminately, like coming upon jewels I should not take. One comes up with alternative ways to take, so as to satiate the desire to participate, but in addition to not falter the original design. I find the roses rotting on their stems as dramatic, perhaps even slightly more dramatic, than the roses who are not rotting on the spine. I used a subject pronoun to describe an object quite consciously, because to me they are not objects. How could they be anything but subjects, when they make me stare at them so indiscriminately, when they make me gasp?

This is love.

Nullified by love

Beings are being
born, constantly,
beginning their
journeys,
to becoming.

Moments are
born,
and you and I,
you a writer,
I a reader,

on either
side
of a page,
to each our
own perhaps cage

to which we
nonetheless
hold the key.
One of us has to be
more sensitive

than the other,
it is
supposed, for the
chain to keep
flowing, throwing itself

outward, a
rattle, the
sound of rain,
foxes mating
at dawn,

lawns covered
with ravens,

And branches covered
with chickadees,

singing
their morning song.

Beings are being born,
beginning their journeys,

to becoming. They begin
in company, and then end up

in loneliness,
and then
in company,
and then
again in loneliness,

Until we discover
that the meaning of life
is sacrifice, who or what
you choose to sacrifice

yourself for, because you
cannot be anyone
or anything unless
you are nullified by love.

Sung

“Sing in me,
Muse.” #Oddyssey .
Sing in me.
As though
I am a flute. I am
just an instrument,
like a piano,
of words.

My Last Dance With George Michael

 

“Last Christmas
I gave you my heart
But the very next day
You gave it away
This year
To save me from tears
I’ll give it to someone special.”
Wham!

This all took place
at a jazz bar
in London

after
it had closed.
On Christmas day,

yesterday.
George Michael had
arranged it,

so I wore my best suit
and made sure I was my best self
and smiled my best smile

given to how star struck I was
to be around George Michael.
He looked so handsome.

Not a day over forty.
His smile was always best.
He said,

“What I remember
the most
about Cyprus is…”

But then the music swelled,
and we got up to dance.
It felt unlike anything

I have ever felt before,
dancing with George Michael.
He led,

I followed.
He laughed,
I found it hard, to

swallow. He made
me feel so good
about myself,

so proud about who I was,
no need to be ashamed,
George Michael was so encouraging.

I felt like a million dollars.
I felt like Ryan Gosling.
I felt like Scarlet Johansson.

But then the song ended.
And so would our dance.
I wanted to say something, real,

that wouldn’t shatter the poignancy
of the moment, something that
would show my gratitude

to this man, not just
a father figure,
not just mine

but of many
so positively influenced and liberated
with his open lifestyle

and his immaculate singing talent.
He declared pop music a work of art
with his single Freedom’90. His

album Listen Without Prejudice
is a masterpiece of timeless and timely beauty.
You’d have to have be dead inside

to listen to Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me,
his duet with Elton John (“Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Elton John!”)
and not be moved to tears.

But I was sure
I would sound
pretentious.

So instead I told him about an ex
who had broken my heart. He
was so empathetic, and said

“Be careful with that heart.
Elephants, also mammals, have
been known to die of a broken heart.”

I thanked him and bid him farewell,
wishing him a safe journey home,
reciting a line from Anne Carson:

No fear.
There will be a tunnel.
And light.

George Michael smiled
and said
“You ought not ever worry about me.”

Twins

Time travelling poetry also helped bring us here

In 1833
I lost my darlings to the sea

I lost my darlings to the sea
In 1833

In 1833
My darlings

Were taken
By the sea:

But the repertory and
the grand agenda

had not formed
Full circle yet

I had
apparently

been charged
for a full carousel ride:

There was more to be:
More to see:

Within the me of the tree of thee:
The story had other sides:

So thousands of years like this…
Seeking a perfect kiss

from downy lips
and skin

snow fell shyly around it:
Skin

snow fell shyly around you
as you stumbled

into my room:
Snow melted

shyly in my room:
I who in 1833

had mothered millions
I who in 1833 had been

Queen Mother
to abandoned children:

To the temples
Mountains too

and broken soldiers and burnt homes;
The stars too:

The gaps between the stars:
The oceans they generate:

The sails we release
To arrive to small islands in the middle of a turquoise and emerald nowhere

Everywhere

But when I arrived to the surprise in your eyes and the whim of the brainbeats in between
In the summer of 2015

I felt myself untangle my wrecks
and rediscover my ships

In the long horizons
of your consonants…

The inexorable way with which
you mispronounce vowels

causing havoc
to the English language

in general:
What queen

could I possibly be
disarmed upon the quays

of your elemental
and amorous threes?

Meanwhile Queen bee
releases all her bees

Meanwhile the Queen of Trees
releases all her leaves and some of her fruit

For thee
To see:

Senseing everything
Suddenly

Suddenly:
Everything

has eyes looking back not at me
but through the sieve of me:

In 1833
My darlings were taken by the sea

But in Summer 2015
The Lord returned the only one

to me:
To see:

Such rapture
To know:

Utter ecstasy
To Love: