Friday, June 13, 2014

Part of the deep


I remember sitting on the slope of a Himalayan mountain
In the shade of a rock, waiting for him
Some thing had faded
Something was overgrown
Nothing determinate, the spring
Below, hidden in a gorge, I would find it
Only after having lost everyone
He told me to carry on alone
Riding a horse made of wood, I wouldn’t whisper
The horse wouldn’t neigh, I wouldn’t ride it
I discovered the spring, and I was the only one

I remember being in a submarine’s gangway
It was too tight to stretch out my arms
Control boards and portholes, I imagined
Becoming part of the deep
Sleeping sacks stapled onto each other
Soldiers in stack, someone was bleeding
Someone had wounded his head, someone
Was blowing the horn, or was it a trumpet
The warlords had called for a final dance on deck
While I made charcoal drawings of people
That were already dead

I remember switching seats from aisle to window
Because the conductor rubbed his boner on my right arm
You were praying with pearls while heat and wind
Leathered my skin, all was meditation
We were without water and when I left the bus
The same man touched my left breast with his right hand
Before touching his chin, were you there
When I spat into the lake, were you there
When he blinked and the sky turned grey
A group of men raped two girls and hanged them
On a tree, I look and see the bark
Giving way for carvings representing our love


I remember sitting on an armchair, they asked me
To dance but I wouldn’t, they asked me
To drink, I would only take one sip, they asked me
To speak but I had nothing to say, they asked me
To stay when I was leaving, they always asked me
Though I had no answers
But I had a smile and a nice looking gown

I remember a cool summer day without walking
I was between one and two, someone
Had placed me on a chair in the garden
I watched birds feeding fledglings
Flying in and out as if nothing else
Was worth dying for, they must be all gone
And dead by now, I am still here
But here has changed and changed have I
Into the portray of another person
They are feeding me now and all I remember
Are birds and their fledglings
Hushing out and in