THERE IS NO LANGUAGE WITHOUT DECEIT

John Singer Sargent. 1909

Kawase-Hasui - Ochanomizu

The following poem is from my book A LIMITED MEANS OF EXPRESSION published by Rattlesnake Press, Pollack Pines, Ca. 2011.  The book is out of print.

‘THERE IS NO LANGUAGE WITHOUT DECEIT’

—Italo Calvino

The thing seen

And the seer are the

Same thing, yet neither

Knows it. The seer suspects

That this is so but the world

Denies the knowledge until

A particular time.

In the latter part of the day

Three men will appear with a bag

That seems too heavy for any

One man to carry. They will offer

It for sale and will produce

Lovely tales of the contents

Of this bag.

There is a holy light that descends

Near here just before the sun

Forgets itself and slips below

The horizon as if it were about

To hide something from us.

Here we will gather. Many will

Make fires and begin to speak

Tales that at first seem ordinary

But eventually become punctuated

With giraffes and birds of strange

Plumage, alleys where the eyes

Of great cats glow and one can

Hear dice clatter to the cobble

Stones or see doorways open for

A second and a beautiful woman may

Be seen laughing invitingly, then

Disappearing behind the door bringing

A pointed kind of darkness that

Stills the voices of the story tellers

For a moment.

Tea is made and occasionally a harp

Or flute can be heard nearby making

A melody that we feel we have always

Known and wish to tell others about.

The clicking of shoes against the stones,

Small sounds that might be language

Engage us and we begin to feel

That this is truly correct.