The Hearth

The Hearth

Almost consumed
the huge log
holds together teasing
the flames that cling to it
curl round it, spit over it
into the hearth

The carbon seems solid,
last illusion of the tree,
and you, too, cling to it,
form so beautiful
you want it but refrain
from lifting it out

Still, it is great comfort
before it finally collapses,
no red giant, ending,
but simply our cycling sun,
its warmth that contains us


©Roberta Gould

Coming and Going

Coming and Going
by Roberta Gould

Death is coming and going
carousing around or lingering
A face in the sky watches
smiles, knowing
this, too, is passing
All flags and storms
are no more than this saying:
Breathe. blink, pause,
follow the sound of your heart
still beating
patterning the morass
and chaos


©Roberta Gould

Ether Stanzas

Ether Stanzas (Ätherstrophen)
Written by Emmy Hennings & Translated by William Seaton

Now I must dive off the great ball,
while in Paris a festival reigns.
People gather in the East Side Train Station
a bright silk-bannered hall,
but I am not among them.
I run off to the enormous room.
I mix in every dream.
And decode a thousand expressions.
A sick man lies in misery.
His last look hypnotizes me.
We long to go back to some lost summer day.
A black cross fills the room.

The Dance of Death

The Dance of Death
to the tune of “That’s how we live”
Written by Hugo Ball & Translated by William Seaton

So we die, so we die,
we die all the time,
because it feels so good to be put down.
Mornings spent in sleep and dream,
by midday we are there,
evenings already deep down in the grave.

Of war is built our house of joy.
Our sun is made of blood.
Death’s our trademark, our watchword.
We abandon wife and child.
What have they to do with us?
If only we could
leave ourselves.

That’s how we kill, that’s how we kill,
we’re killing every day
our brothers in the dance of death.
Brother, let me see you
brother, see your breast,
brother, you must go down and die.

We don’t mumble, we don’t grumble,
we’re silent every day
till the joint of the hip-bone turns.
Our bedstead’s hard
and dry our bread, the dear god bloody and begrimed.

We thank, oh, we thank you,
Kaiser, for your grace,
that you have chosen us for death..
Just sleep now, sleep soft and still,
until you wake,
oh, our poor bodies, covered by the grass.

Cells Constrict

Cell's Constrict
By Shahnazar Edkirmendjian

As they broke me in the branch,
of warnings that imbued behind my naval gasps.
My salt coat bares the carp of the lakes that we fish,
Cells constrict, and Uriel revels in clean meat at sundown.



©Shanazar Edkirmendjian (October 2004)

Agnofinis

Agnofinis
by Shahnazar Edkirmendjian

Of blackened wine,

White text on black screen serves passerby's emoticons in hints of delinquent machine.

And all but a single cricket continued in fields of endless hymstone,

softly stepping on panels of godless river as one by one they shrivel.



©Shanazar Edkirmendjian (June 14th, 1998)

Brothel Linens Talk

Brothel Linens Talk
(pen, ink, and pastel)

An illustration by Brian Redding.

Nature's Untitled

Nature's Untitled
by Gordon Riggs

Fountain streams; chorus themes of Morning doves, Nightingales, and whippoorwills.
Water lilies sparkle white and pink with flaxen-gold at the mornings rise.

Harp in hand by the pools of foam silver, coral, and earth brown.
Ebony chestnut, dark amber flows curled and wavy her hair.
Silkworm woven, sapphire-diamond her gown.
Pearl cream shin; enchanting like the moon.
And eyes of old forest.

Then laughter and dancing, singing and chanting the voices of brooks, rills, wind, and of
wild flowers. Birds of all feathers chorus along.

And then I called to her in voice, but it became projected thoughts of mind.
"Harken, my word, good tidings and greetings all around. Please by your leave;
allow me the pleasure, the privilege, the knowledge to your name. For now I am unsure,
I would deem this moment, but a waking dream!"

"Fear not curious one; Adam's son. Tis not a dream;
for my name is many, and I am no daughter of Eve."

"When the stars were young, and the ground, earth, and seas boiled, shook, and quaked.
I began the waking song the sapling trees in fertile lands; welcomed the pedals and flower
blossoms to show their faces. And witnessed the birth of the birds and the bees."

"But, surely you jest, and with no disrespect; for you look younger, not older than myself."

"Trouble not your mind, Adam's son. For there are many wonders, and mysteries that
people can not fathom in this world. Embrace what you hear, feel, and see.
Take the moment, the instant at hand. For what do your senses tell you?"

"Many things; they reveal great splendor, and great doubt.
Hence, I have been in long study of the universities of man: science, technology, and the economy are the sustenance of truth, they claim to be true.
Methinks, it is more so involved in the secret brotherhood of stock and trade.
I am a wanderer, a gatherer of art you can say.
And at times, numbed for the better, and for the worst."

"Come then Adam's son, walk with me awhile; open your mind, your spirit, your senses.
And then in time, ask yourself, "What have I to contribute?"