Come Autumn

On a mossy hill behind a mock castle

we will read Aristophanes to harems

of nymphs strumming their lyre.

Words transform to birds flitting

hearts of lovers while  I contemplate

the perfect angle of your face

breathe in the amber resin of pine trees

that permeate our senses

There in the unruffled pools of your eyes

I will die just a little

artist unknown

Of Liebe and Krieg

Your winter coat lies where we once lay on the bed of a decaying forest
the silence is as hard as pounding hooves or soft as the moon rising
in your kingdom of stars.

Gurkski’s ” Il me faut t’abandonne”

“Come dusk is when my mind walks out

from where I fence myself in,

my dark room of nightly delights where

I encounter her, my queen of all things blue

and we fight right from the start

To make me love her even more.

I place the hands of my heart to gather

my hunting spirit, follow her footprints

into our forests of love and war.”

( excerpt)

Von Liebe und Krieg — Of love and war
Translation to German by Bernd @ Neues Vom Hutschi

NICHT BEREIT DAFÜR REISE ICH,
UM ZU ÜBERLEBEN,
DURCH ERINNERUNGEN, DIE SICH EINFINDEN,
OHNE EINKLANG.
DA LIEGT DEIN WINTERMANTEL,
WO EINST UNSERE RÜCKEN WAREN,
HALB BEGRABEN IM FALLENDEN SCHNEE,
JETZT VERROTTEN SIE ZWISCHEN ZAPFEN UND NADELN.
DER WALDBODEN RIECHT NACH BRENNENDER KIEFER
UND STILLE IST WIE DER KLANG STAMPFENDER
HUFE ODER SANFT WIE DER ZUNEHMENDE MOND
IN DEINEM REICH DER STERNE.
AUSZUG AUS GURKSKIS „IL ME FAUT T’ABANDONNE“
„KOMM, DÄMMERUNG IST, WENN MEINE GEDANKEN FORTWANDERN,
VON DA, WO ICH MICH EINZÄUNE,
MEIN DUNKLER RAUM NÄCHTLICHER FREUDEN, WO
ICH IHR BEGEGNE, MEINER KÖNIGIN ALLER BLAUEN DINGE,
UND WIR KÄMPFEN VON ANBEGINN,
DASS ICH SIE NOCH MEHR LIEBE.
ICH NEHME DIE HÄNDE MEINES HERZENS
EINZUFANGEN MEIN JAGENDES WESEN, FOLGE IHREN SPUREN
IN UNSERE WÄLDER AUS LIEBE UND KRIEG.“

Losing June


By morning I have renamed us 
when I speak a thousand thrumming
 wings escape my throat 
those crimson wounds you have 
christened with your hands
a forgiveness I can believe in

I've etched your voice in memory
so not to forget the glossy sound
of humming wings when you speak
Your eyes orbit above me
brilliant satellites so that I
may dream free of shadows.

I've pared us down forgotten what  I knew of love and when I try to speak  a thousand wings catch at the cache of my throat.   

 

Night Music

 

 

 

 

a longing

I steer my boat
beneath the lacy moss of
cedar trees where a  lark  drapes
her song,  a spray of flowers, along
the whispering stream.
Beyond the shallows a wooden bridge
where we cast our secrets to the water,
goldenrod along the bank witness the
 breathless embrace of  lovers.
So blue were your eyes those summer days,
 how endlessly deep the longing.

art by Steve Hanks

ID 23

It was a delight collaborating with Mr. Cake @ https://cakeordeathsite.wordpress.com/.  I hope you enjoy our poem. Thank you Mr. Cake.  For fun we have left it to you to decide who has written Part 2 and Part 3.

cakeordeathsite

Toyen-The Unfolding Screen Toyen-The Unfolding Screen

I recently suggested to Miss Heart of House of Heart that we collaborate together on a particular hare-brained idea. I am delighted to say that the gracious Miss Heart agreed to indulge my whim and displayed not inconsiderable patience with so idle and tardy a rogue. The result is the following poem, one half written by the vastly talented Miss Heart and the other part by myself. Like any work of the imagination it can be read in a number of ways or fashions. Suffice to say that there are many conflicting versions of events, that the same incidents can recur in different locations with a varying cast of characters and that all you may surmise doesn’t necessarily dispel the mystery.

ID 23

2

The autumn leaves have begun to fall.
Late October London is covered in hues of orange and purple.
On my bench by the…

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