Thursday, July 14, 2016

Saloniki



     I

Light escaped
  darkness.
Ormuzd sang eyes
  squinted.


Wednesday's child
    cries.
 Woe's diadem
   has no vault.


     II

At Saloniki
 the Empress lacks
Corybantes to
   conceal her rags.

Chlorus comes
  but her head
 must go.

Bright light
  takes her down
 saltless hills.

       III

We lost
  five weeks
and columned
  a dread span,

head lost
 with Wednesday's
van.

   Grey horses
stride past
  blind and still
 as mobility.

Darkness they
bring to sight.

Darkness they
alloy in light.

Monday, July 04, 2016

Île de la Cité

Barricades glitter like shrapnel of fallen stars.
Bayonets flash Basilisk grins in the square.

A hidden arc of love stretches across metallic rubble.
Pink scarf clouds drift above unseen by clerks.

A mother's sigh hovers noiseless over the jet Seine.
Two gamin scatter as heaven shakes their reflections on dark water.

Thieves treasure daylight when sons slight mothers.
On it goes, silent as shushed sighs, to La Santé.

Sister Amalie cries.
The rope is taut.
No bead, no hosanna,
can loose Justitia's collar.

                                Let us pray for the grace
                                of every gutted chest's hollow. 

                                Light a candle of mercy
                                to hush the amputee's bellow.
                                                 
     


Sensibility

 
      It dawns slowly. Claudia wished her sense and the world were more harmonious. She grew tired  of the wait. Wishes without constellar aid equal overreach or, put poetically, a fall. Like meteors they consume themselves before touching ground. Claudia never touched for groping. Never spoke for  shouting. Her ears were muffled by the din of her own bell. The bell rang and, sadly, dinner was  never served.

   


      A sensibility that starves makes hours of seconds.