To |
Acco, Achelois, Aegialeia,
Aganippe, Alcmena, Alcynoe, ALPHITO |
|
| by Michael Blakeley |
| Left hand |
|
Right Hand |
Right Hand
Silence like a raindrop falling
Never
striking
Never sounding;
In the quietude intense
In the silence
Grows
the violence;
Murdered man quiet street
No fleeing feet
No
friend to meet
Too many rats
in one box
Too many locks
No one talks;
No one to say anything
In
world dying
Silence is king.
Words
I've heard about your words,
Sweet
soothing stinging birds,
From others,
Your lovers.
But I don't
want your words.
I want your lips
And I want your hips;
I want
your touch
And I want too much.
I want love to light your eyes;
I
want to lie between your thighs.
I want to kill...
I lack the will.
Go
away and let me be,
Just
stay away from me.
I lack resilience;
Leave me in silence.
I don't
want your words.
Elan a'Belle
I'm
carrying a wound, deep in my heart;
Waiting for the healing to start,
Trying
to find something to do;
I have to find a way to forget about you.
I'm
looking for a place to be alone,
Where I won't have to answer the telephone;
Looking
for a place where I can't be found,
I'm trying to find my
little underground.
I'm crying now, but you can't see me:
Crying so
hard, but privately,
And sorrow
is the only sound
Heard in my little underground.
You're pretty and
lean;
You spit and you scream.
You love with your claws
And you're crushing
my jaws.
You fight me and win,
You spread your sweet skin;
I
know you're a bitch
But you scratch where I itch -
You make love the way
a cat does.
You're sexy and sweet;
You turn up my heat when you kiss
me.
You're willing and wild:
Don't you ever be mild
If you love me.
You're
able and free,
You
take what you see;
You're lost and you're found
And I want you around.
You
make love the way a cat does.
One
Year
Transparent tears trailing
From your red-rimmed eyes;
I hear
the banshees wailing
As the tempests rise.
Can you hear me calling,
Across
six thousand miles,
Through the deaf waves falling
Upon a hundred
isles?
My love is not leaving:
She stays within my mind
And keeps
me from grieving
For the
lips I cannot find.
One month of love, one year of pain;
One year to
wait - will love remain?
Moonsight
The moon shines down on my darkened
face
Sending tiger-striped beams into this place,
Where I'm lying, bathed
in sweat and fear,
And wishing my long-haired girl were here,
To press
her bare self against my skin,
To kiss me and to know that I've been
Miserable
without her sunrise smiles.
I wish my empty arms could cross the miles
And
hold her beauty close,
to tell her to
Close her eyes and make our love anew.
Urania
The full-moon nipple of Night's black
teat
Drowns me in phosphorescent milk;
The Ninefold Muse's pap is a bit
In
my mouth, a bridle of silk.
Though I tried to write for Apollo,
And
tried to sing of the light,
Cold paeans of reason rang hollow,
And
my heart pulled into the Night.
Triple-faced, Night's Goddess abides,
Despite
the tired paper muses
That
the mind of man now rides
And puts to his mundane uses.
Tanist
Rex
I am Osiris,
The king who never dies.
My consort is Isis,
The
full moon of the skies.
Brooding, shadow-kissed
Tetrahedral tombs
of mine
Loom grey against the mist
Brightened by her silver shine.
I
stand at the base
Of every pyramid.
Her dawn wind stings my face,
And
I see her smile amid
The eternal Night,
And the glittering coals
Are
like a dying sight
Of
my own myriad souls.
Liebesreich der Zwei
Es macht nichts wo, da oder
heir;
Ein Liebesreich der zwei sind wir.
Ich will deine Stimme hören,
Und
ich möchte dich berühren,
Aber ein Luftpostkuß ist mir
So wie
dein Gesicht im Tonspiegel.
Ich bin in dem Menge eine Insel;
Nichts habe
ich gern ohne dich,
Und endlich weine ich, ohne dich,
Jetzt bitte beende
nicht das Kapitel;
Nur mit dir kann ich freuen.
Ohne dich kann ich nicht
leben;
Aber alle Wünsche
sind eitel --
Meine Liebe ist mir ein Nadel,
Und mit Schmerz muß ich lieben.
Them
I
see their eyes glow
late at night,
Like milky pools devoid of sight --
I feel the stars upon
my head,
And I wonder if the moon is dead;
And I wonder if it's them or me...
Diving
in the deepest oceans,
Dreams permit the strangest notions;
Surrounded
by those staring eyes,
Forced to listen to their lies,
I
wonder if it's them or me
I wonder if it's them or me
Who's crazy...
I
climbed alone onto this stage:
The eyes surround me, burn and rage --
I
sing of love, I sing of hate,
The
silver eyes just watch and wait,
And I wonder if it's them or me
Who's
crazy...
Seeman ohne Schiff
Bis ich meine Liebe sehen kann
Bin
ich noch keinen heilen Mann;
Ohne ihren Gesicht
Sehe ich kein Licht;
Nachts
denke ich immer daran.
Ein Seeman ohne Schiff bin ich,
Und
die Trennung lohnt sich nicht.
Wie Stahl kommt der Schmerz
Ganz tief
mir im Herz -
Ich möchte meine Liebe, möchte dich!
The Outcast King
The
outlaw hangs upon his cross
Of
oak beneath moonless sky;
Eyes closed, sinking deep in chaos,
The
Lame One's soul starts to fly.
Muse-granted vision transcends sight
While
black coals whirl underfoot;
The corn-man's blood drips green, contrite,
And
the moon mourns black in soot.
Now the hawk dives through the
door,
Into the arms of the Crone;
Mother, young Virgin, sweet Whore:
Sisters
of sackcloth and stone.
Golden Apple
The mouse-demon muse of
poetry
Offers his laurel wreath
to me;
An incantation for moderation,
And the rape of a sacred tree.
I
laugh in the pale false-sun's face,
And mock his self-imposed disgrace;
No
mistletoe, no mushrooms grow,
They die in a womanless place.
Sentenced
for his bloody crime,
Imprisoned in his gleeman's rhyme;
Drinking
death without a breath
Of the poet's immortal time.
Polygyne
I
am, and laugh through endless years,
While tragedy crushes the best of
men.
From narrow valleys to
trackless frontiers,
Tombs and poets follow where I've been.
Husbands,
lovers, and dutiful sons
Have pledged me their lives, starry-eyed;
Tanist
and sun-king, blinded by passions;
Every man who has loved me has died.
The
lunar dilemma pierces my flesh,
Wounded Night bleeds silver in the
sky.
The gears of the universe grind and mesh;
I kill another consort and
cry.
Orphic Song
I am the sun-king,
I bring
Fire and ice to
the end of time;
I am the
red bird,
I herd
Carrion crows, black bloody kine...
The wind that
scatters my mind, that shatters
The stone alone can set me free.
I
am the spear that roars for blood;
I am the star-child's twin.
I am the
son of the morning,
Mourning in scarlet sin.
I rule over the slaughter-house,
My
kingdom of dead kings;
Fiery blood and blasted oaks
Center
my unhewn rings.
I am the cold one,
I come
Breaking through the
mountain's door;
I climb
the spiral,
I fall
Screaming down the winding core...
Sie ist am schönste,
Ist
meine Liebe;
Weiße Blumen entstehen wo sie geht.
Sie küßt
mich dreimal;
Ich bin im Qual
Als ihre Parfüm in den Nordwind weht,
Denn
niemand setzt in
Meinen Herzsaal,
Aber tiefes Einsamkeit steht.
I
love a girl who murders me,
I try to see
The poetry
Around me in
this world.
I ask for light, get bloody wisdom;
Curse the sun,
And
reach the queendom
Of black
and aweful Night.
I find a use for death in life,
A bloody knife,
Invoke
the strife,
And call upon my Muse.
Prescient
Here we stand,
on the edge of tomorrow;
It's the first day of the rest of our lives.
Standing
tall in our pride and sorrow,
The tears cut down our cheeks like
knives.
Love was good, but you say it's over:
Dead like a dog killed
in the road,
Gangrene can't be cured with flowers,
Love was our secret but
we lost the code.
I think
we could still make it happen,
If only we could lose this memory.
We
could try to recapture Eden,
And plant the fruit of our fallen tree.
Solstice
in Bremen
This is the last night of my life;
I have touched the
sharp edge of the knife.
The stars are old, the moon is cold,
My soul has
been bought and sold --
My enemy and lover is my wife.
I can hear
the blood in my ears;
I can taste the salt in my tears.
The snake uncoils,
the water boils,
We fight
the duel as chosen foils --
All of my joys have become fears.
The wall
tears the skin from my hand;
Beneath my feet are only ash and sand.
I stand
alone, I touch the stone,
My hand is made of pain and bone --
Always
I obey Her command.
Today
I'm drifting in a haze
Of mind and my own memories;
I'm dreaming
of those other days,
When your wind blew through my trees.
And I
hate myself for leaving you,
And
I hate myself for loving you,
And I hate you for loving me,
And I want
the wind in my tree.
A little boy is in my head:
He screams he'll
love you till he dies,
But the air today is still and humid.
The only breezes
are his sighs.
One day I'll brave the thunder's rage,
And weather
fierce storms again.
One day I'll end this lonely stage,
And weather your
loving wind.
Barnacle
They say you've forgotten
The love that
we once shared
And it seems
that you no longer care
There is no feeling,
No love in your eyes;
And
no slow-burning hatred shines there.
But I still remember
The full
moon and the stars;
I still feel the wind and the rain.
I'd like nothing
better
Than to be with you again
Flying free, without your hard shell
of pain
So come out, Barnacle!
I see your wings.
Come share in
sweet love, shed despair.
She weaves her art
On my broken heart:
She
sculpts a brand-new beauty.
She
keeps me sane
Through pleasure and pain
With her medicinal poetry.
Ah,
she redesigns my broken heart
Ah, she redesigns my broken heart
Sculpts
from equal parts
Of my pleasure and pain,
And what remains is swept
away;
Swept away...
She is on her way,
And I hear her say
that
the best is yet to be.
She redesigns my broken heart.
I had no right
to ask you if you love me;
You live, and you laugh, and you were born free.
I
had no right to draw
you into darkness;
You are the full moon, you can't live with less.
I
cannot fight for your love against your will.
Love is a gift, not a promise
to fulfill,
And if you loved me you'd let me know.
If you loved me, I wouldn't
have to ask you,
If you loved me you'd let me know.
I'm not so
bright.
It takes my phone a while to answer.
But now I see,
And I've
never been so sure,
Cause if you loved me you'd let me know.
If you loved
me, I wouldn't have to ask you,
If
you loved me you'd let me know.
I will not fight for your love against
your will.
Love is a gift, a promise to fulfill,
And if you loved
me you'd let me know.
If you loved me, I wouldn't have to ask you,
If you
loved me you'd let me know.
I will not wait to see you leave, you won't
come back.
It's too late to talk when you're about to pack.
If you loved
me you'd let me know.
If you loved me, I wouldn't have to ask you,
If you
loved me you'd let me know.
If
you and I were sparrows we could fly away to Spain,
We could fly above
the treetops, we could fly above the rain,
And if we were two sparrows I could
look into your eyes
And see the sun and stars and sky and wonder why man
dies.
If we both were sparrows we could fly far from this place,
And somewhere
else my lips could kiss the raindrops from your face.
If you and
I were lions we could meet behind tall grass
And make rough love beneath the
sun with teeth and eyes of glass.
And
if we both were mountains I would share my clouds with you,
Or if
we were two meadows we could grow and drink the dew.
And though we were the
sun and moon, and loved but from afar,
Still I would never leave you for some
closer-passing star.
The only beauty in my life
Is that which you create.
In
deepest hell and purest strife,
I dream of you and wait.
I
know that I will lose my way,
The world is dark and cold,
But still I hope
to see someday
Your face
in beauty bold.
Illuminated by the moon,
Your face ignites my heart,
And
with your rising, midnight soon
Will signal love's new start.
Three falcons on a marble sky,
Three circles round the solar eye:
A feather falls, and drops of blood
Stain the dust and make red mud.
The gods of hunting fight on high
While wind blows through the trees,
And a woman weaving dark-haired sees
A feather fall on her hand.
She decorates her black headband.
She closes crying eyes and weaves
Her tapestries of tears and dreams,
Mad patterns, starry moonbeams.
Sometimes the woman screams.
I
am carved of cinderblock,
My heart is ash and sand.
My mouth is shut behind
a lock:
I close an empty hand.
The sun is still, above my head,
The
moon cannot be seen.
The stars are bleeding, dying, dead;
I close
my eyes and dream.
Phoenix rises from the ashes of the world behind my eyes
Phoenix
is a new world growing
in between my lover's thighs
The stars are shining and the moon is full
The
stars are shining and the moon is old
The stars are dying and the
moon is old
I open up my eyes.
The stone beneath my feet is pain;
The
red light burns my eyes.
I search in memories of rain,
For comfort in
my lies.
Ursula
Ursula is a city of smiles
At
the edge of a placid harbor;
A beautiful girl who beguiles
Me
to return from my adventure.
I sail myself deep into the heart
of America,
home of the brave;
And although we are now apart
I could return upon
the next wave.
I'd sail to her, and hold her close.
I'd tell her the
tale of my journey;
Her lips
would give me one more dose
Of love and then set me free
To roam the
oceans, leaving her behind
To wait for me at the port of my mind.
Câd
Tuesday once declared a war,
Sent fire and steel to
find a foe,
But Monday had to mediate.
Wednesday in his books said no;
The
other days were days away,
And
strangers should be friends;
So Tuesday told itself, "I'll fight,"
And
saw his death descend.
The Goddess frowns on suicides.
Monday Poem
Sometimes
I wonder what to call you,
Now that we have lost all names:
Sycamore,
elder, birch, or yew?
Red cedar or lightning-crowned oak?
Beneath
lost names the tree remains;
Branches live despite dead leaves,
Each
bears it's own inner name.
They speak the word uncaught by sieves,
The
unseen name of the living
tree;
Our calling is never the same.
The earth and moon both say a
word,
To mankind's unkind city;
In the silence of the song-bird;
In the
poem written by the rose,
And read by the nameless tree.
For Kaia
Excuse
me, miss, I'm not sure we've met,
But your eyes look like I've seen
them before,
Once on the face of a girl in my arms;
But that light isn't
on her anymore.
Excuse me, miss, and I'd just like to ask
If you could
feel my eyes across the room?
And
how do your chocolate eyes view me?
This moment could be rebirth or
a tomb.
Excuse me, miss, but there's just one more thing:
Who will
you be when it's tomorrow?
Because I'm feeling colder every day,
And by your
side no icicles could grow.
I have stood above the sea
And listened
to your laughter:
My hands are nailed to this tree,
And I fear what comes
after.
Once you told me names and sang
Nine hundred secrets in my ear
-
Now I taste my blood and
hang
On a yew that drinks my fear.
There he is, who laughed with you,
The
serpent I held in my cloak.
You rode him fast and used the spur
Until
his skin and my heart broke.
I feel like his enemy,
Your red spear
in my hand,
As he hurls his hate at me.
He falls weeping, and unmanned.
He
must love you, as do I,
But your lips curved to frown.
A man
who loves the sunny sea
Never dreams that he will drown.
I sing now my
certitude -
Certain that it
will fade,
Despite your hands that have imbued
Me today with this blade.
His
friend would reject the gift,
Your lover would widen the rift.
Melody
says that she doesn't have time
To wait for me to follow her, and
She'd
rather go with him.
Melody says, as she arches her spine,
"I
need to have a lot of toys, and
Would you like to be mine?"
But she'd
rather go with him:
She can't wait and she can't go backwards.
I can't
hate her for her soft words,
But
what is in her heart?
What is in her heart?
| volunteered to shoot me through the | |
| She | | | head |
.
| held the knife just inches from his | |
It
was like a bloody dream, and
I don't know if I want her:
But I know that
I love her.
Melody says, with her heel in my face,
"You said your Muse
would be a bitch," and
She says she's here to stay.
Melody says,
as I climb out of my head,
"There's something funny in the air, and
I'm glad
that you're not dead."
I
search for beauty
Between the black limbs
Of twisted apple trees.
My
tools are black ink,
Hot blood, and moonlight,
Spilling on silver paper.
The
letters fester
Like an open wound
On the pale skin of a leper.
Imitation
full moons dot the fields
Through which I walk -
Imitation
poems are the tongue
In which I talk.
The twisted trees, the poetry
Of
smog-enshrouded stars
Cannot match the glitter of
Their uzis and their
cars.
The Goddess is my
mistress,
Unworthy as I am;
And though they poison every ocean,
I remain
Her man.
What name do you bear today,
O mistress of my soul?
In what
language will we speak,
Outside your glass castle?
Will I recognize
your face
When you stand before me?
My heart is sure to quicken,
But
perhaps I won't know why.
I remember jet-black hair,
A woman like a
tree.
I remember flashing eyes
Alive with prophecy.
And have you
forgotten
The hands that once
held you?
Do you not remember me,
The love you sent to die?
Do you
remember dreaming,
As you slept in my arms?
Did you dream of fire and
blood,
And my brother in your bed?
From what wood was my cradle made?
On
which hill do I walk?
Ye boastful bards, know ye my name?
Avaunt, ye
bards, avaunt!
I have eaten hazel nuts,
Hewn the dolmen arch with words;
O
boastful bards, can ye so claim?
Avaunt, ye bards, avaunt!
I
am a twig of silver fur,
I
am an elder tree.
Ye boastful bards, sing ye the same?
Avaunt, ye bards,
avaunt!
Riddle me the sun's true name,
And order the thirteen jewels.
Ye
boastful bards, know ye their names?
Avaunt, ye bards, avaunt!
I
can call down fire
And consume this fragile world -
I can poison oceans,
I
can be an arrow hurled
By Apollo's hand.
I can also meditate
Transcend
the evils of today;
I can reach Nirvana,
Breathe the lotus flower
and stay
Outside of living
land:
But if you would love me
With the moon above your head,
And
poetry alive
Inside the passions of our bed,
I'd take your hand.
With
a glass of gold-flecked water
I have pledged my love to you,
At
nine o'clock on Monday's Eve.
I can hear your voice in my ears,
And black
Night is the pupil of your eye,
At nine o'clock on Monday's Eve.
My
memory is stronger than today:
Your ghostly kiss overwhelms my mouth,
At
nine o'clock on Monday's Eve.
Three Triads
I have seen you smile
at me
Like a clear pool by a hazel tree;
Brightness crowned by wisdom.
Do
you see me as an oak,
As
lightning, or as hills that spoke
When poets wore six colors?
Your
voice is the seventh wave,
The sunlight shining on my grave,
Calling
me from glass houses.
Cobweb eyes and shadowed thighs
Glide cool against
my skin,
And I sprout feathers, laugh and shout
For joy of life and sin;
Like
a dove I lie in love
All night between your breasts.
Moonlight shines
and your mouth finds
My open lips, and rests.
One Lover
Last night I dreamt that we kissed,
But
I can't remember why...
Your lips tasted like wild honey,
Your mouth
like clear blue sky.
I looked
deep into your eyes,
And saw your every thought;
Your hands and face
made me forget
My mind was also caught -
And then you said you had to go,
You'd
meet me here again:
Then I awoke, and saw the clock,
And took up
pad and pen.
If I were asked to renew faith
Between the crown and pen,
I'd
dip my quill in royal blood,
And never cut my hair.
I'd weave a robe
of lunar light
To wear before the crowd -
And in return, I'd drink my
fee
In ripe, red vintage wine.
I found a
red rose on my doorstep;
My pillow smells like your perfume.
You sealed your
letters with a kiss,
And sent me books of poetry.
I slept three nights
alone in your bed,
But you still made me rent a room.
Golden tequila,
I'll send you a fifth -
I still feel your wind in my tree.
But if
you loved me you'd let me know.
If
you loved me you'd let me know.
If you loved me . . you'd let me know.
You
asked me for my friendship instead;
My only other choice was the
tomb.
But I don't want to die and leave this
Friendship for infinity.
And
if you love me . . you'll let me know.
The ability of poetry in to
remain in love;
If I survive I must revive the fire in my blood.
But if
I stay and crying pray for the same old angel,
If I ask for ancient folklore,
love from sight of beauty,
Morrow
morning I'll be mourning for my forsworn vision.
I keep expecting
you to knock
I keep expecting you to call
I keep expecting you to write
Sometimes
I think you're not there at all.
You keep expecting me to come
You
keep expecting me to go
You keep expecting red roses
But now the
fire's burning low.
Expecting we're through
Expecting we're through
Expecting
me, expecting you, expecting we're through.
They keep expecting
you to split
They keep
expecting me to cry
We keep expecting forever
But sometimes love just has
to die.
Expecting we're through
Expecting we're through
Expecting
this, expecting that,
Expecting him, expecting her,
Expecting me, expecting
you, expecting we're through.
©1984,1985,1986,1987,1988,1989,1990,1991,1992,1993,1994,1995,1996,1997
Michael Blakeley