He has been located
While living in the mind
He encouraged his attention
Dragged corpses out of tombs
And formed opinions with mixed regrets
Held the spotlight flashing over every grief
Quickened the sensation by allowing space
To breathe
Is not to act
But the transparency of the eyes fits neatly on empty beds
And company is abolished easily
In the celestial imagination
Of heaped aborted messages
“I’m going to do some good, wed the dawn, give in”.
He strove to donate the something he was not
Granted
It takes time for wounds to heal themselves
And provoking dissipation
Demands listless looks in mirrors
“It’s only a reflection, loose, lifeless, empty; my eyes are burning with tears”.
-So the young
Has gone into a trance
Followed paths carved by cruel passions
Habits of defeat
Shapeless ideas
Abstract ideals
And ended absolutely
Absolutely stale-
“Tonight,
I might be offering my heart,
I might be amending my past,
I might be comparing experience,
I might be expanding, I might be loved.”
While standing, cross-legged, half-naked,
stern and sacred
This form of crying polarises
The head with the feet
And he can’t help it
If it is physically impossible
To breathe
Is not to love
But the deficiency of the soul is quick to add,
that images like these,
are but reactions
-Images like these
Stand forcibly in front
And only flee at timid hours-
“It fluctuates, it flows, it erodes the rocks,
The pulverised faces
The pulverised senses
are knocking me over
Keeping me low, head down, red cheeks, repudiation.”
On the ground the flower reaches its targets
Water pours inside the roots
Replenishing lost moments
Memory, it seems, gives weekly allowances
To forgetful, inanimate and static minds
“I have to say
that I really couldn’t stay
too long
I long too
much
For something solid
Perhaps
Solidity is just a concept
And my lips were just your dream
You remind me
Of something I saw some time ago
In a picture perhaps
Or a movie perhaps
A painting perhaps
But I only see
You see
I can only sit here
And watch you go.”
He said
And stuck close to it
His word
He must have kept his word.
2 comments:
Πρέπει να κρατάμε τα λόγια μας, Prospero. Τον λόγο μας...
Δυο προτάσεις με έκαναν να κοντοσταθώ και να αυτοσυμμαζευτώ απόψε:
"I 'm going to do some good, wed the dawn, give in",
"It takes time for wounds to heal themselves".
Αλλά κάποια στιγμή, θεραπεύονται, έτσι δεν είναι;
Ω, ματαιότης....
'Οτι πρέπει να τον κρατάμε το λόγο μας, πρέπει, Πατ, αλλά έχει σημασία τί και σε ποιόν υποσχεθήκαμε...
Θεραπεύονται, αλλά αυτό που έχω μάθει είναι ότι θέλει πολύ υπομονή...
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