Sunday, May 17, 2015

Truck May 2015: A Poem by Mjamj Snjirc


death wanders about


I
Oh if I did not have my Love
I was not, I was not

     1
     Oh how wild we were in those days
     Oh how young we were
     I got the future that was dealt me
     drawn on rice paper
     and sealed with a fool's cap

     Yes it was during carnival
     that I had my downfall
     The sound fell away
     nevertheless, as far as the eye could see
     people were exuberantly happening – sun suffused
     gravity turned into lightity
     the lightity made me dizzy

     My downfall was deeper than the height I was sitting
     however, my landing on the bottom was soft
     softer than on a trampoline
     although the earth was solid
     A big muscular man took me on his shoulders
     and as if I was floating over all those people
     he transported me 
     to a stool in an empty bar

     The bartender smiles at me, without making preparations
     to give me a drink
     I let my gaze fall on the collection of plush flamingo`s
     point at a small purple one
     He snaps his fingers, and this small purple one
     comes flying to me
     Now I smile at him
     And to the flamingo I say ''hi''
     But it appears that
     also from my mouth the sound has fallen away


          2
          Death wanders about
          The foundation is caught
          for a joke of wintry fabrication
          The entertainment touches simulators
          and other charlatans

          while under more naked circumstances
          it supposedly could
          give a dance a shine
          that makes summer insects
          tremble, shake and shiver


               3
               Death wanders about
               Pear stew per pound
               for small change and a ring
               The adornment a stuffed bee
               set in boned bone
               more or less petrified

               Neat the smell
               of the skeleton washed by time
               The clubfoot pleasantly concealed
               with hard-won patience


                    4
                    Death wanders about
                    The dogs have been sent ahead
                    As a gang of all kinds
                    they go to meet the phantom
                    They deliver a stunning picture
                    so different each of them
                    in speed, however, one


                         5
                         In a bed of little prayers
                         slender pillars, slender pillars
                         she is tossing and turning
                         she sleeps deep

                         Death wanders about
                         Like any death
                         a healthy death
                         that can manage very well
                         without a bleak blond bystander


                              6
                              As a gang of one kind
                              the dogs have hit the phantom
                              With one colossal movement
                              they have turned it on its side
                              and as with one tongue
                              they lick a film of slime
                              that makes the invisible
                              get form – static
                              get color – dynamic


                                   7
                                   And bury in the hill of the mole mounds
                                   I will – and spit
                                   pus – green, yellow and blue
                                   thick treacly sap
                                   and an avalanche will with eardeafening uproar
                                   and drift away and seed away



II
Lay me in the bed my Darling, that
gives under my lightest weight
in which I, robbed of mildness,
fresh, still, naked
tremble – when touched
by the aroma of your mystery

     1
     What we lost; I found it
     it was lying under the tiny easy chair with the fringes
     shivering slightly supercooled
     and blinking against the harsh morning light


          2
          Death wanders about
          On the heath the does
          unfamiliar with the reins of the sled
          An image of four decomposes into four images of one
          the smell of the gunpowder reaches far into the surrounding

          Death wanders about
          On the heath the piglet in sheep's clothing
          nose in the wind
          running with the speed of freedom
          rather taking chances on the missing shot of the hunter
          than at the sure knife of the butcher

          Death wanders about
          On the heath such happiness
          The clubfoot stretches itself
          she can jump, run and dance


               3
               Death wanders about
               The toddler scratches herself
               the scales from her eyes
               the wax from her ears
               So alone is she, so alone
               with all those children around her

               So alone is she, so alone
               with her petrified tears


                    4
                    Death wanders about
                    The baby awakens
                    Bend under the apple tree
                    she sees worms, she hears gossip
                    Bend under the apple tree
                    she wets her pants

                    Gossip did its job
                    Strongly exaggerated it did not drift over
                    but stuck behind anxious fright


                         5
                         The old horse can still make more speed than the young thing
                         No place for me in the saddle 
                         In fact, not anywhere within the range of the swishing tail

                         The bulging eyes look at me, friendly
                         The nostrils dilate to sucking tunnels
                         The earcups pointed and motionless, despite the flybrocade

                         I feel no rhythm, no muscles, no movement
                         I feel air currents traveling with the speed of ten winds

                         The unbeaten track makes an angle, then declines rather steeply
                         Trees on both sides; fir opposite fir, linden opposite linden
                         elm opposite elm, birch opposite birch, and so on

                         Between the cypresses I halt to quench my thirst
                         Creepy here, alone without animal

                         The high wall is at least six times my height
                         the masonry immaculate, the seams reasonless straight
                         May the dark not overtake me, like yesterday

                         May the ground remain free of pools
                         May the pebbles each be of equal size and be equally distributed
                         May the gate for which I halt be the right one 

                         May my voice swim itself loose, meeting the fish
                         greeting without a worry
                         ''hello sweet friend, now that I have a life you can be in it''


                              6
                              Death wanders about
                              The fetus awakens
                              In the womb she feels
                              the storm, with a force
                              turning and sucking so that
                              out of her little skull
                              the brains are being sucked
                              empty – except for a stringlike remainder
                              that leaves intact
                              the ability to move


                                   7
                                   Death wanders about
                                   On the heath bustle without beer
                                   Abundant cutting of switches

                                   If only the cradle weaver was paid
                                   to still have this technique in her fingers!



III
Take me by the arm my Darling, with passive warmth
Sunny the sun, lightly in the clothes, and let`s drive
The destination is determined – but in the mists

Let us strike up a song – to this future without wrinkles
Let the orchestra uncase – now
and play now, dance now

until the blisters have sung themselves to callusus
Fresh winds approaching from afar – but first they make a turn
before they decorate the tombstones with the strenght of a hurricane

Fragile the antennae of the slime-snail – nervous timidity
On I go without having my voice make a sound
The breath caresses my belly and not my vocal cords

From the twilight between my eyes schedules set loose
In which there is room for you and you and you. Take a seat
the drink is in the cooler, already less fragile the antennae, firmer also the shell

Help was on its way, wasn`t that the message?
Oh all those faces that resemble one another – from afar and from up close
enrich me, enrich me

Crawl-animals always crawl, swim-animals alway swim, lie-animals always lie
and ride-animals always ride, without looking to the left or to the right
without giving in to any danger

When sunniest the sun, their clipped tails throw cleansing shadows
With their eyes of steel, these are the animals beating with my heart
This is how it started and this is how it will end

So take me by the arm, my Darling, with passive warmth

     1
     Paradise piglets
     with on their withers little marks
     whole as unexcavated fossils
     dig themselves in in flowerbeds;
     mirror images of an earthly origin
     existing by virtue of a heavenly light
     The message they bring is intended
     for the brown chicken with the orange beak
     the sister of the one who comes here every morning
     to shake things up
     I wish that chicken would stay away
     we don`t want her on our ground

     and this applies equally to that sister of her
     who was nice company once
     but has turned intolerable
     since she knows herself to be in the interest
     of the marked piglets

     So beat it, you star chicken, go have a drink
     from the little pond in the flowerbed where
     your friends from paradise dig themselves in
     Leave us finally alone 
     We can manage very well without you
     we definitely will not miss you


          2
          Death wanders about
          The manic sweethearts dance their last manic dance
          in the shadow of the fountain of triumph
          better known as the hosedude
          although the water runs back into the basin 
          with five graceful arcs
          from the pupils of a five-eyed woman
          In less than a minute, all surrounding benches and their railings
          have been taken into possession by possessed spectators
          who rhythmically clap their hands
          until the blisters have sung themselves to calluses


               3
               Death wanders about
               Pink-white the sky
               Gay the little feathers flutter
               Pollewoop plucks the tail
               with deft fingers
               in a flow, in a flow

               Broaden up to size Pollewoop
               loosen up the ribbons 
               untie the ribbons loose

               Death wanders about
               Silver scaly the sky
               forged with brass welds
               in which here and there
               the blaze still glows

               Let yourself fall Pollewoop
               in this light, in this light
               Turn yourself pretty, turn yourself prettier
               The shutter speed is five hunderdth
               what is less

               than the bullet needs
               or the most fatal poison


                    4
                    In the adjacent building falafel bakers held a conference
                    The uproar was just beginning and it still did not show itself
                    as the explosion of violence in which it would eventually culminate
                    ''Yezz yozz yizz, you do it like thizz''
                    was the yell that increasingly grim stirred things up
                    until only just yizz and thizz were heard
                    but overwhelmingly so, from all corners of the house
                    and from throats of all sizes and all timbres
                    I was wearing my lemonfish mask, and so
                    I felt no embarrassment at all to make my request
                    But I really was not prepared
                    for the enthousiasm with which it was received
                    ''Last week it looked like it would be a canary
                    this week it turns out to be a lemonfish
                    but welcome, equally welcome
                    Had it been a down dove, an albino
                    also, equally welcome''
                    were the words of reception
                    that by the other members of the company
                    were cheered with a loud ''hurray!''


                         5
                         Death wanders about
                         Aye where to look
                         when the lackey of freedom
                         irrevocable goes towards
                         a confrontation with her boss




© mc





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