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Myrtle Path

Keep on shining restless light,
Find the blooming fern.
Cast the circle, trust the night,
Wait for her return.

Listen to the moonsong chimes,
Pray it’s not too late.
Say her name one thousand times,
Kill the light and wait.

She’ll come clean by ocean’s bath,
Softly washed ashore,
Take you down the myrtle path,
Seal the sacred door.

One Of Those Days When I Crawl Out To Talk To Sun

All treasures of the earth
Are here under my feet.
The symbol of rebirth,
I can’t withstand this heat.

..

You’ve kissed so many spears,
Blinded so many hearts.
My cozy sepulchers.
My jilted Bonapartes.

Is that just what I’ve earned?
How can I ask for more?
You’ll burn me like you’ve burned
All of my kin before.

The symbol of rebirth,
I live under a stone.
The irony, my earth.
The solitude, your throne.

15 april 2020

MW

Hear the ancient violins,
Old and creaky gates.
In our silky silence
Ribbons turn to chains.

Sure this is your stable
And my limbs enchained.
You think you are able.
You think I am trained.

Wipe the dusty window,
Look out in the gray.
You are in my kingdom,
My Milky Way.

Thanksgiving

Thank you for leaving,
For leaving me, the paper world, the songs
Behind.
Thank you for killing,
For killing me, with all my wrongs,
You’re kind.
Thank you for seeing
How words and chords are weaving,
Are weaving all the meaning:
Left hand, right hand, I understand;
For every yes and no:
They come and go,
Oh now I know.
So thank you.
Thank you, “who”-ever you might be,
“What”-ever, should I say, you see,
Because I thank for knowing:
It’s never been ‘bout you and me.

April 2020

It Is About Damn Time

No questions asked, we take
Our whole lot to the end.
Politely, we don’t break
Smug liars’ verbose trend.

Oh yes, you, too, play games,
Be it your love or war,
While it’s still in your veins:
That bloody thirst for more.

While some malicious jazz
Merrily rules the world,
Over-the-counter death
Forever marks you “Sold”.

No! Fuck it! I’m fed up
With this relentless game.
I did this: my bruised heart,
My spirit wrecked with shame.

My life, the stubborn deck,
Left me just this one dime.
But I will fuck it back.
It is about damn time.
——————–
*Sophia Parnok Nov 2 1932, translated and slightly adapted by me*