Every means of communication what is call languages are mysteries
I am a foreigner in an insulated capsule
I taste. I explore. I take samples to try and break loneliness
I'm learning. Maybe, one day, I will be truely able to write and talk.

mardi 22 décembre 2009

WE WANT EVERYTHING by Moe SEAGER

These predictable exchanges
we pass on thin winds
Are we talking
or faming ourselves ?
Where's the gust !

You don't know me -
cause itself :
Take my hand, grip
it is malleable.
I'll come. Always at the ready
On the brink of becoming...

You're a black man in Philadelphia
I an orphan shaping poems in Paris.
There we say : ça va ? Bien, et toi ?,
leave it at that.
Like two dogs lifting hind legs
at the hydrant.

Here it sounds : How's it goin man ?
it goes like this :

...each time our children's hands
...ripped to paper ribbons
...snag of the thornbush
...forbidding them fruits of desire
...I stop cold on the boulevard
...un-curl palms scarred and cannot heal.

I am a civilized man
Thus told - to hold my tongue
How absurd. I prefer to hold yours
...Like a shell pressed to my ear
...Resonance of inner cosmos
...Rings from within
...Harmonic convergence
...We want everything.

We must stop lamenting the rain,
Shrinking from heat, humid days
Weather is so much tide
Ocean of air from which we swim.
Direct me to the nearest galaxy.
Shall we summon a boat?

What's happening ? Ask me, again.
No. Yes. Yes ask me !
...You are to me, alchemy
...Look : space between us
...charged with protons of love
...passion particles osmosing the boundaries
...of the vacuum
We are about love
when we choose to be.

Bullets, blades, booby traps
sprung by the masters
parasites embalmed in pale faces
bank vault visions myopic chill light
Hermectic madness.
...C'mon Orpheus
...Play-me your opus
...I wil empty my head
...like a tulip in April.
...We shall build the cult of imagination

You don't know me
but I hear your howls
from the death camps.
Columbus'crematorium.
Migrating birds pass the news.
I wrench requiem from my sleep
brood in the mirror of morning cafe
spittle drops on counter tops
unhinge doors to corridors
days in discord
Arrested in motion on a bridge deck
hammered stone, cold steel rivets
to the base of my skull.

you don't know me
I've been writing to you for years
and crystal clear moments
I sing your song in the darkness
the migrating bird my witness.
...How you be ?
...Go on - tell me
...Tell me more.
...So much more.

Moe SEAGER