In that time
When civilization struck with insults
When holy water struck domesticated brows
The vultures built in the shadow of their claws
The bloody monument of the tutelary era
In that time
Laughter gasped its last in the metallic hell of roads
And the monotonous rhythm of Paternosters
Covered the groans on plantations run for profit
O sour memory of extorted kisses
Promises mutilated by machine-gun blasts
Strange men who were not men
You knew all the books you did not know love
Or the hands that fertilize the womb of the earth
The roots of our hands deep as revolt
Despite your hymns of pride among boneyards
Villages laid waste and Africa dismembered
Hope lived in us like a citadel
And from the mines of Swaziland to the heavy sweat of Europe’s factories
Spring will put on flesh under our steps of light.
Tag Archives: France
la danse et l’intervention passionnée
there was no deity in her toes
or mystical magic,
brazen eccentricity,
alcohol infused depravity
clung like smoke
that became exhausted on breath,
the morbid look of reality
as being human is to dance
bare splayed white thigh flesh
promise of midnight feast
fulgent in face
he wished to grasp her now
be away upon a tram
tearing worsted tights
patched with careful hand
lamplit ombres chinoises
concavity of upturned behind
receiving wild attention,
she has him as a pale
pierrot languishing on soft words
and gentle caress
having seen the kaleidoscope
and been within pink basket
away with shallow shadows
to find his way home,
naked on sheets tugged and messed
alone
internal orchestra played on
stood upon her rug
once vibrant
and danced again
for herself this time,
watched only by flickering
wax candles
toulouse lautrec
Little Tombstone – ESMA
Making Bread
warm kitchen
she made bread
he at Verdun
remember swimming in the Meuse
kneading dough
blood soured mud
thunder melody of guns
pounding shaping earth
pockets of water
shelter to the rattle
of bullets
no sweet yeast
tiredness and pain
dabbed her brow
called the children in
he crawled
bitter in his own flesh
wanting to flee
crawling over a battlefield grave
mud bone tissue uniform
bread rose by stove
oven hot
barbed wire sting
pinching biting flesh
raise up to move forward
impacted many times
life leaked
as he fell
eyes last capture of hell
as bread browned
in the oven
velvetmedia 