RAILROAD ROOMS

D.R. Wagner - La Noche de las que Brillan

17 1/8" x 14"

Ward

This poem was published earlier tis year (in April) by Medusa's Kitchen.  I wanted to post it here because I like the way it moves.

RAILROAD ROOMS

A mouth that worked like flames.

She had a Transylvanian horse

With soft silver trappings and a blue

Flamingo that spit pure gold.  She 

Would sit in the alley and wait for

The forest to catch up to her

At least, that’s what she preferred.

And her mother had told me not 

To draw attention to those beautiful

Fires that could be seen on the hills.

Memories could be had one hell of a lot

Cheaper and you could pay for them

With your childhood and pills.

There was a broken down railroad

That once ran to Texas or someplace

That looked like Texas in New York.

And a man with a fracture that he called 

A smile who ran freight on both sides

Right through the middle of the park.

At three AM on Saturdays we would go to

The theater.  They gave away roles to those hungry

For fame.  And the aisles were always crowded

And the lights were always flickering and there wasn’t

One person who would admit it was a game.

We live far from the heartland, we live close to the bone.

The children who come visit, they come always alone.

They tell us we are crazy to live lives in these places

They tell us it it will cripple us and we will live in fear.

But the sun here, it does something that looks like a morning

And there’s coffee if you don’t mind waiting in line.

They make fires out of old doors and they keep them burning.

They have never once, never once, asked us our names.

ORNITHOLOGISTS

ORNITHOLOGISTS

They banded a naked girl

Riding a beautiful star specked

Horse with the echo of youth

So they might track her

Should she ever return.

Somewhere out there silence

Can be learned as if it were

An alien language or a card game.

See those spinning lights?

They are the ones I spoke of

In my letter.  Yes, they are

The children of of the deepest

Purest thing we could ever imagine,

But we could not realize them 

Happening to us.

Now I don’t know about the rest

Of you but I’m thinking none of this

Is done in vain.  This is the world,

Is it not?  “We are surrounded by

Enchantments.” Who can judge

Any of this? Moonlight? Lions?

We came here because we must

Come here.  We were told this is

The place. Where will love

Go better?  Where will anything

Be as innocent as this ever again?

I press my face into her hair

And breathe.  They will come

For us soon enough.  Don’t 

Even think of running.  Just

Look at that horse.  Unbelievable!

The lovely girl, naked.  Her beautiful

Back.  Look how we understand this.

BESIDE THE SEA

John-Bauer-

BESIDE THE SEA

These flowers burn my hands

As they are delivered to me.

I must have gone out at some

Point to gather something like them.

But they became too many bouquets ,

Too many different ideas of what

Time allowed me to find.  I am

Sure it was for time’s amusement,

Just as it finds so many literatures

To poke at as one might a jellyfish,

With a stick, between tides.

This then, is between tides.

I will be patient with it all

And carefully map out the 

Labyrinths, make deliberate choices,

Find a mysterious object, half-buried

In the sand, carefully lift it, turn

It over, only to discover a perfect mirror. 

PULLING UP THE BLANKET BEFORE GOING TO SLEEP

PULLING UP THE BLANKET BEFORE GOING TO SLEEP

The stars pretend to show eternity.

They claim to be the cape of paradise.

They form constellations only so that man

Can talk about them and think them other

Than the flaming balls of gas they are.

Tonight I saw the stars as human skulls.

The constellations as the same and as I watched

Time came and unloaded some of its trash 

In a far corner of the universe just to keep

It expanding.  just to keep things interesting.

I took the path that went through a small wood

And opened out almost at the edge of the sea.

The tide was at neap and what were waves

Were very far away, as if one were in Maine.

I went down to where the edge of the water

Would be in a couple of hours and listened

To these skull stars in the chorus of their

Divine realms of space.  They were voices.

They were voices as the sea is voices,

As the wind is voices, as the rain too finds

The earth a place that can make rain to speak.

And I did not know the words and I did not

Comprehend the music that I heard but I

Tried to be as these things were.  I became

Naked to the night and walked across

The rocks farther and farther, on my way

To meet the water, the great ocean, the 

Endless sea, to welcome it back to the shore,

To believe as I was racing ahead of it, pulling

A great blanket up to the woods to give

The starry skulls the mirror their flaming vision wants.

LE MAL DU PAYS

Gottfried Helnwein

LE MAL DU PAYS

We find evening wandering among

The trees of the park: taking

His name slowly from the late

Afternoon as she slips into

Shadow, stretching a bit, easing

Her language of birds and insect sounds

Toward evening, offering them as gifts.

Lights begin to blink on

Across the valley. From here

They could be angels who, having

Heard the vespers bell, hurry

So not to be late for the last hour.

We can want no more than

To be here together, a witness.

Perhaps it is only that we have

Chanced to find ourselves surrounded 

By the hour that moves this feeling

Through us and into the landscape.

Perhaps it is a knowledge of something

We had not anticipated understanding

Quite yet and so are still unable to

Name it properly that does this.

We stand together here a long

Time. Finally it becomes so dark 

I can no longer see you clearly.

Stars begin to blow across the sky.

FRAGMENT FROM THE HILL JOURNALS

fabres-insects

FRAGMENT FROM THE HILL JOURNALS

The clouds were dark that evening.

Seen from the window they could

Have been thinking, brooding, but

Eventually the stars climbed to their

Places and waited once again for

The cool flame of the crescent moon

To remind everything its light touched

That it was the most powerful beacon

For this time, that anything the night

Might lack could be had in her light.

The table was already set when we came in.

The walk from the villages had seemed

 Inordinately long.

Water had found its way inside my boots

Making a squishing sound as I walked 

To the bench in front of the fire, removed

Them and began drying my feet with a soft blue cloth.

‘I am never coming that way again.

It looks too much like earth

With its meanness and killing.

I was struck with flying things more

Than a few times.   The houses were

Hovels and one of them, near the 

Cliff edge looked to be in a state

Of constant flame but never

Seemed to burn.  Flames out

The door.  Those horrible people

Gathered round, all talking and

Gesticulating.  I hate the way they

Talk.  It isn’t language and

That horrible stench. God.’

Ramon poked at the fire.

‘You’ll feel better after you have

Had something to eat.  This is 

A safe place.  no one has even

Ever heard of these white caves.’

I knew it was true, that if we

Had to be anywhere, this was the

Best of places to be.

‘I did manage to bring two of the horses

And there is enough food for a 

Couple of weeks in the packs.’

‘We will send someone else

Next time.’

I rose, walked across the room

And sat heavily on the bed.

The next thing I knew, i was

Waking.  She was kissing my lips

And making a little morning song to me.

‘You worry an awful lot too’, she said

‘You tossed and turned all night.’

‘These wars will be over soon.’

I said, barely believing myself.

‘I don’t think so.,’ she said.

‘It has been like this as long as

We have been here.  We keep moving

Higher and higher up these cliffs.’

‘Come here.’, I said  'I will show

You a very special dance.'  I rose

And bowed and began to move.

The smile on her face was better than

The dawn all that week, had been.