Tag Archives: words
beat me at the 4a.m read
i see a page that gives
words once as progeny
becoming blue scented nothing,
perched over it
in a damp saffron autumn
umbrella a discreet protection,
i had bathed in those dreams
yearning to be magellan
seeking
beyond the evil trolls,
petals in the forest
delicate uncut,
giving kisses on the souls
which resonate to those who are dead,
strawberry meadows
by the river
tiny seeded red,
dont go asleep
or you will miss
the elephants post themselves
about the pillar,
returning the hopeless
as is the passionate,
consuming beyond sainthood and glory,
arriving back
to a turned page
with fingers that have ancient tremors
home
mersey moonlight and shine
across the hills
to river dee,
wind whispers
in the trees and grass,
of park
and shipyard sinew,
bricks of sweat and toil,
urban sprawl,
where smugglers coins
fell to sand,
lighthouse flickers
seen by little eye,
sandstone tremors
and gentle veil of mist,
i feel home
cradled by the lake
and shivering masts
of a yachting few
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Velimir Khlebnikov – Incantation By Laughter
velimir khlebnikov
Miguel de Unamuno – My Vulture / Mi Buitre
This ravenous vulture grim scowl
that devours me the fiery bowels
and my only constant companion
till my pain with his hooked beak.
The day we touch the last sip
I rush my black blood, I want
it leave me with him alone and landmark
a moment, no one as hindrance.
Well I want to win, doing my agony
as he my last stripping swallows
surprise in his eyes somber
look to see the fate that threatens
without this dam as satisfying
the terrible hunger that never goes out .
and in Spanish
Este buitre voraz de ceño torvo
que me devora las entrañas fiero
y es mi único constante compañero
labra mis penas con su pico corvo.
El día en que le toque el postrer sorbo
apurar de mi negra sangre, quiero
que me dejéis con él solo y señero
un momento, sin nadie como estorbo.
Pues quiero, triunfo haciendo mi agonía
mientras él mi último despojo traga,
sorprender en sus ojos la sombría
mirada al ver la suerte que le amaga
sin esta presa en que satisfacía
el hambre atroz que nunca se le apaga.
Tsaurah Litzky Reads from “Flasher” (adult content )
John Cage and Kenneth Patchen – The City Wears A Slouch Hat (1942)
the defining spark
those roots grab you back
coffin laden on barley
lifted on the wind,
your voice i heard once
as cars exploded on the streets
and police batons fell,
i grew listening to you
embracing my heritage
not strangers to a landscape,
scattered with grass seed
upon heavy peat bogs,
alone with your pages
paper yellowing in the sun
i got to know what
rhythm made the music inside
and caught magical light,
you where a viking
a warrior of words
forged by the great anvil,
i still read you
as many do
your place is deeper
than sinew and bone
you are a molecule
of a fresh soul
coming to a brighter
day
Seamus Heaney
1939-2013
life and all inbetween
knotted wings of crows
with scarce strength
rise into rain,
below vegetation
burnished by fall
listens to the calls,
damp rooted trees
in eroded soil
cover to our
consummation,
revisited after twenty
years,
as one we move
our lives wove a story,
origin in these fields
birth from these fields
as cells would watch
these fields and woodland,
a last exhalation,
we would not return
an act of memory
physical and intricate
framed in the cortex
for tomorrow
Sunday Whirl 119
Richard Brautigan – Five Poems
Richard Brautigan
velvetmedia 