четвер, 12 вересня 2013 р.

Michael Mc Aloran - 6 Poems




1-
You are of the contained yet no not of the contained
Speech is frugal
Iced by the belittled ember
The wound reappears/it does not appear/ it asks/ amber
Stone blind it says no not this no not of this
Given to task of/ breath
Foreign eyes
Fleshless words what words
Silenced then as if tomorrow were…
Obsolete
Gather up the wings of the broken raven, whose milk you
Drink, whose feathers you place at the foot of your bed
I/ shadow
Motionless
Glistening stone
From what lung of absence, as if to silenced
Given or taken from
Until tomorrow lessened/ fallen from
Graceless
Barren hope blisters the tongue’s regress
Dissolving
I/ shadow
And the lapse between one film of glimmer
Trace then with nothing/ nothing will ever be


2-
Seal shut the silenced lingering of the bone white lack
No grace in these moving images
Here the sun does not genuflect, merely whispers
Voiced as if to trace the filtering breath
Of what migrated/crawls/through nothing to return
The blackened pulse crushes
There is dirt beneath the fingernails of I
Or is it skin
Disremembered
You collect my colourless ashen skins
I/breathing
Nocturne of dissipate
Hands that grasp for vapours
Mouths that retrace from what was claimed


3-
(I/collecting the scraps/the bones)
Implements trace the night’s pupil of foreign
Where now
From on till on again/ or
Dense/feverish
Or the drag of the naught and cross
I lose you in a room of bled silences to become
These are the hours of nothing else
Feeding
The nothing else
I lose you in a tomb of traces yet to follow


4-
Some clear unearthing/of…
I/a-breath
    In this arena of absolute
Or perhaps some vacated roomscape, the curtains torn
Flapping blindly in the gale
  Some elixir of you, perhaps, some silent following
In the steps already traced before/unknown
  Where to know of has already spoken of…
Lighted the dark bends
Fleshed
I in precipice of you


5-
Of the rise and fall
We break bread with nothingness
Vortices to trace/consume
The cancer crust of blighted light of the foreign distance
Nothing will forever come to call
Broken bones
Iced light
And the unspeaking of you/ I
Distances to speak of
Forgotten the narrow ridge of what was travailed
Our teeth are edges unremarkable to rust
For now


6-
The fingers impress the eye’s laughter
There is sky upon sky to offer to the brail of it
Breath upon breath/ flux/ unsaid
I offers and absorbs
Dead meat through tide’s caress
Fallen shadow and the breath/ (spoken)/ given
Orchids/ Lilies/ Gardenias
(pick or choose)
Take me from this, this which that I will not
Voices dead as dry waters
Emblems to touch
Fleshed yes and in the banquet of it
Given or take
One hand to champion the tidal



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