Poetika

She was in a wood. There were only the trees, very straight and regular, and the sloping carpet of fallen leaves. Although the trunks stood well apart, she was sheltered beneath the high canopy of treetops. Once past the first bend, the edge of the wood could no longer be seen, the sky could no longer be seen. Illumination filtered down from above, vision was clear, but she was no longer certain from which direction she came, or whether that direction still existed.

She sat down on the early autumn leaves. She felt nothing, she had no thoughts. She had only visual awareness and a sense that there should have been more. Her limbs were light as paper. There was no longer any rule by which she could determine whether there had ever been any other place but this. She felt, in a way that never quite became conscious, a dread that there might still be.

She looked at the trees, so incapable of discontent. With what was left inside her, she began to despise and envy them, but her passion never became complete. It merely disappeared into the well within. Then, in her disappointment, she almost forgot to think at all, but wished only that she might never have come to the wood, where she was so completely lost, and from which there was no possibility of escape, as the first tiny rootlets spreading out from her toes crept beneath the leaves and began to plant themselves in the dark, moist soil.

The father swam away, with sure strokes, across the choppy, gray surface of the water. He never looked back, and in a short time he was gone. Their boat sank swiftly. A few feet away, the mother struggled to stay afloat, and her little girl clung to a half inflated plastic float. The girl noticed that her sister and brother were nowhere in sight and wondered innocently where they might be. She believed that someone would come soon and save them.

The mother's face was distorted with grief and terror as she flailed at the water. Her strength drained quickly, and she floated, exhausted, until her face dipped beneath the surface, then she sprang up again in a frenzy. She began to curse her husband, but the useless anger soon gave way to hopeless weeping.

In time the mother's expression grew softer, and she began to speak as though to someone close by. The girl could see no one, but the sound of her voice was very sweet and beautiful. In the middle of a sentence, the mother gasped, drowned quickly, and lay very still in the water before floating slowly away.

The girl said nothing and did nothing. After she had drifted for many hours, she suddenly felt her feet touch bottom. She raised her head and saw that the shore was quite near. It looked very strange. She stood weakly and waded to it with great effort, falling only once.

When she reached the shore she climbed a small bank and sat down facing the water. She drew her knees up to her forehead and began to cry without making a sound. The tears fell on her bare legs and feet.



		P O E T I K A Copyright (c) 2001 JC England KAATTENMOUSEN Kaat o' nine Kaat o' mine Whip them mousen Make 'em whine Kaatten ears are foldenbakken kontemplaten fun Kaatten tail is flikkertwitchen Mousen better run! Kaat o' nine Kaat o' mine Whip them mousen Make `em whine Activate your stikkenscratchers Klamp your fangenvisen Show the other kaattenslinkers what to do with micen! SENSATIONS OF ERIKA Erika's hair is soft, like threads of gold and silk To touch it is almost not to touch it at all but to pass one's hand through the fine down of an angel's wing Her mouth, a rosy whisper on new satin, requires no sound to show a passing mood But she speaks with the purest voices of the bells and her singing throat trembles like the breast of a little bird The most mysterious music of some unfathomable secret plays in her eyes And from her hand held briefly against my chest flows the sudden warmth of a young girl's trust THE RESTING PLACE Bodiless voices ride the night and the laughter of the others She is hidden, safety assured In familiar burrow amid clutter of hermit's retreat and scents of sorrows And memories falling unexpectedly like sudden shadows She is ignored (most painful thing!) Unworthy of love? Unworthy of love? As a prisoner exists in cold stone cell regretting it, she exists, on and on She has learned that there are no saviors only destroyers Demolishers to the ground who in furious pain destroy them both There remains the depth within her of the stillness That which will not again be offered not to be scorned for what she is And there remains the resting place the warming current in head, in chest The peace that saves her from her other selves and from them OH JABBER Oh Jabber, oh Jabber, oh Jabber my love you came with the season, you came from above I long for the velvety touch of your glove oh Jabber, oh Jabber, oh Jabber my love Oh Jabber, oh Jabber, oh Jabber my sweet my calls you ignore and my mail you delete How long must I suffer the pain of defeat oh Jabber, oh Jabber, oh Jabber my sweet? Oh Jabber, oh Jabber, oh Jabber my dear I'll ply you with brandy, I'll ply you with beer But nothing will come of my efforts, I fear oh Jabber, oh Jabber, oh Jabber my dear Oh Jabber, oh Jabber, oh Jabber, for shame! I try to survey you and stake out a claim You play with my heart like a frivolous game oh Jabber, oh Jabber, oh Jabber, for shame! NATALIA KALININA Natalia Kalinina of the eastern regions wings inlaid with silver, bronze, and gold Soars boldly about dual perches having learned flight from the swallows Natalia Kalinina, herself a brush paints disappearing figures in the air Tumbles over the blue mat surface a skipping stone across smooth water Natalia Kalinina, tree top dancer now becomes an elegant branch of birch Plants a dismount rooted and true Slender sapling, supple and strong Natalia Kalinina of the clan of cheetahs sprints and springs in a flashing high arc Alights upright as cats are known to do, her prey, elusive beauty, in her teeth HOMOGEN I am one like the others We are many id atrophied Uniform As one we merge It emerges a creature Homogen We dance it dances We love it loves We work it works We part It dies TO A FRIEND If ever circumstance conspires with tears to line your gentle cheek And if your aspirations sink beneath a cold, uncaring sea Don't hesitate to call on someone close to help your spirit mend But try to make it someone else I'm really not that good a friend WHEN THE STORM SPOKE When the storm spoke her tongue was a stroke of yellow fire that uttered daylight in the darkness It licked the earth, and for an instant, bared the charcoal ceiling of the clouds, the seething surface of a dark, inverted ocean Here is my crashing sky! she blazed The rain spread out across it like a rustling silken gown, enticing me to witness her display Here is my dripping tree, she sang, And here my pummeled, bobbing sea of grass! And she applauded them against my window panes LETTER FROM A SHATTERED MAN He wrote a letter for her Sick that he was Sick and hopeless and afraid Feeling the rush of blackness to his heart How he longed for a life as good as the peace that would free him from the living What would he not have traded for respite from pain? But he dreamed of disappearing to end all dreams and all problems To bring a fair and honorable close to what had become an insane and insufferable dilemma Every corner filled with whispers that he do it He heard it in the coldness of his heart turned his head and feigned ignorance until the sounds were faded away into nothingness He offered an apology to those who could no longer hear him Oh, I am sorry The words don't even apologize for themselves I have done these things Nothing can erase them from our memories The grayness of it's pressed against my chest The dull pain of it permeates my blood This breathing done in vain won't hinder death I've run the maze, I know it inch by inch And this I've learned: there is no other exit And his kind metal friend laid him to sleep scattered his aching brain spilled him The room he occupied is empty The windows are unseeing, vacant eyes The walls shut out the outside life and at night keep his soul from escaping DRUGSTORE SORCERY With fervor sought the alchemists of old to transmute heavy lead to pretty gold and thereby mimic nature's magic art of drawing golden love from leaden heart Now modern drugstore sorceresses vie to have more fun, and so their tresses dye And men are drawn to doom in witches' beds attracted by the fool's gold on their heads EVELYN Hair of amber, dress of green Evelyn was seventeen Eyes of kindness, heart of smiles left me feeling like a child How she charmed me, pretty darling how she flew, like wren or starling Out of silence, like a song now she's here and now she's gone Though constellations in the night display her face in stellar light, Though I remember all she said my heart could never turn her head Then peace to her, May time erase the signs of sorrow from her face And may she find the happiness that she deserves, and nothing less THE DARK FOG To exist in the land of the dark fog is to know nothing but one's own close surroundings Even they are tinged with it and nothing exists beyond it The shadows are darkened by it light is subdued by it Mystery and evil are suggested by it a cold and hopeless despair emanates from it She thinks. There is no one else but me and I am unsure of myself What is `myself'? The dark fog seeps into her There are so many words in her rooms The open faces of books and papers show her their words but they are the words of the others and are therefore unattainable by her She can only construe them by imperfect understanding into what they are not They can only reveal to her the shadow of what they mean eternal puzzlement, no more And the old relics reminders of what she once pretended to be Sit obsolete and vaguely humorous now And fully encompassed by the dark fog THE GHOST CAT There is a little cat who runs through the room just at the corner of my vision It may be a devil or it may be a fairy, For, when I turn my head it's always gone SEA LEVEL A liquid sheet of froth is sliding silently away A thousand moons are riding on the luminescent waves The ocean sweeps a seashell in then out, as if to say how easily it welcomes back the things it throws away The solitary satin moon that swims above the sea enchants the light that reaches you, the light that reaches me And if you stood beside me now and if I took your hand the little waves would trip our feet and draw us to the sand AFTER THE SHOW All of the people filter out slowly after the show All of the echoes settle to silence after the show One is engulfed in billowing stillness Waiting suspended Feeling a hopeless, furious sorrow There is no mercy found in the silence after the show TOUCHING LYDIA Lay down your head upon my breast Let me enfold you, love in love The peace of arm and arm entwined The touch of you, the loving touch The once averted eyes now bold The rushing pulse, the blush of bliss The brushed-by kiss on tender cheek The sudden rain of lips on lips The beauty of your breast unbound cupped soft in hand, kissed lovingly Like supple buds of roses oh, press close your sweet bouquet to me The urgency of wanting you The merging thrust, the willing yield The softness and the hardness one The surging gift of love revealed Lay down your head upon my breast Let me enfold you, love in love The peace of arm and arm entwined The touch of you, the loving touch A LETTER A letter makes a pretty flame to signify affection's end A letter gone to ash and smoke can never be restored again She gathers up her memories embraces them a final time Her heart is like a broken cup Her love is flowing out like wine She hears the faintly beating drum of life-It beats for everyone she ever knew-It stops for some Now no one waits, she burdens none In resolution past regret she draws a melancholy breath And shuts her eyes and takes a step and falls into the arms of death IN MY DREAM In my dream the stars came back and the moon was silver across the sky The great sun solved the deep mystery of night and the spell was broken Children ran happy into the day and the twister of souls relented Lovers were released into the pleasure of their love and death was far away, and humble SEVENTH STREET Walls of stone stand straight Crumbling pavement waits Street lamp halo light is holding back the night Neon flash is brief In stuttering relief the ghostly color sheds a message rarely read Angry voices rise Words are flung like knives A lover's cruel deceit escapes into the street Refuse whirls about A window light goes out As down the street of red the whores have gone to bed THE MOMENT Through the night window a sea of lights floats in the darkness All in a moment beneath the soft cover of music She remembers that time is endless that love is with us That the night extends forever JEALOUSY I give you love you share it with him I give you sorrow you pass it to him I confess my secrets they are subject to his review I cannot sleep or work This pain has caught me in its teeth Consumes me endlessly but will not let me die You are inside me I am incapable of wanting you to go There is no answer THE WOOD She was in a wood. There were only the trees, very straight and regular, and the sloping carpet of fallen leaves. Although the trunks stood well apart, she was sheltered beneath the high canopy of treetops. Once past the first bend, the edge of the wood could no longer be seen, the sky could no longer be seen. Illumination filtered down from above, vision was clear, but she was no longer certain from which direction she came, or whether that direction still existed. She sat down on the early autumn leaves. She felt nothing, she had no thoughts. She had only visual awareness and a sense that there should have been more. Her limbs were light as paper. There was no longer any rule by which she could determine whether there had ever been any other place but this. She felt, in a way that never quite became conscious, a dread that there might still be. She looked at the trees, so incapable of discontent. With what was left inside her, she began to despise and envy them, but her passion never became complete. It merely disappeared into the well within. Then, in her disappointment, she almost forgot to think at all, but wished only that she might never have come to the wood, where she was so completely lost, and from which there was no possibility of escape, as the first tiny rootlets spreading out from her toes crept beneath the leaves and began to plant themselves in the dark, moist soil. THE ABANDONMENT The father swam away, with sure strokes, across the choppy, gray surface of the water. He never looked back, and in a short time he was gone. Their boat sank swiftly. A few feet away, the mother struggled to stay afloat, and her little girl clung to a half inflated plastic float. The girl noticed that her sister and brother were nowhere in sight and wondered innocently where they might be. She believed that someone would come soon and save them. The mother's face was distorted with grief and terror as she flailed at the water. Her strength drained quickly, and she floated, exhausted, until her face dipped beneath the surface, then she sprang up again in a frenzy. She began to curse her husband, but the useless anger soon gave way to hopeless weeping. In time the mother's expression grew softer, and she began to speak as though to someone close by. The girl could see no one, but the sound of her voice was very sweet and beautiful. In the middle of a sentence, the mother gasped, drowned quickly, and lay very still in the water before floating slowly away. The girl said nothing and did nothing. After she had drifted for many hours, she suddenly felt her feet touch bottom. She raised her head and saw that the shore was quite near. It looked very strange. She stood weakly and waded to it with great effort, falling only once. When she reached the shore she climbed a small bank and sat down facing the water. She drew her knees up to her forehead and began to cry without making a sound. The tears fell on her bare legs and feet. "I have abandoned you," she said.