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NAMING NAMES or ekpharsis
It was a wood scrap
your monologue
excluding even before
faces called lovers
have disappeared
screwed on, a metal conjunction
unidentified if it
hadn’t been for a sculpture.
Many messengers
who brought me gifts
in my twenty
three years, holding
a door maybe when
if no other occupation
than innocence
,,,miscalculations
and how it is forgotten
to be ourselves
in carrying each other.
Gate the keep
or frown upon
the goodwill.
This you-
and-me riddle.
Reading Cioran Now
I forgot to die
with him
this time
at least
not yet, and still
I hear you within.
All this suffering
on a fully balanced scale
I stand on the opposite arm
fully unstraightened yet
I weigh the same
as him as when he
was twenty three.
I just asked, what about us
us without
a single silence
It was a wire
a wire pulled the lighters
together while
while I pulled
apart all the strings
and innocence,,,
noising my dialogue
all nails on the thing
had been hand-hammered.
There was no blood-
not until only after
there was no love-
not only until after
the Light
the light was blinding
the title
miss-leading
-only after I destroyed it.
So Saroyan in paying
the bare minimum price
that poem I swear
generates more photons
than your average morning.
and how, more than often,
in a same lifetime
in different places
we have resulted the same way with our findings
before it was genius now we call it
collective consciousness
yet the maker has to keep
thinking this is mine, I made it
to make a living less than
to have a life carved
out of this circus.
The Poet
must steal some fire, there, Eileen said it
Here is my lighter collection, please take it.