Magi

Magi (2023)

wear a coat, says she
cautioning, as mothers would
reassuring kiss

filled with joy I prance
hooves like drums devouring space
grasping air and time

near a tree we met
motherless and freed of love
cheering liberty

for a long journey
unprepared but confident
boyish fearlessness

hardship on the way
lashing winds across my face
devastating cold

famine on the way
wishing for a house of bread
or an inn, at least

murder on the way
sniping from a hidden dark
father, cover me

where will I find peace
longing for a mother’s kiss
wear a coat, said she

where will I bring peace
what the gift I freely wear
wear a coat, said she

three mere boys were we
ready for another death?
ready for a birth?

when we came to land
cradle made amid debris
cooing mixed with fear

where your father, child
where the voice that gave you life
no reply was heard

where your mother, child
where the reassuring kiss
no reply was heard

what your name, I asked
not expecting an answer
wear a coat, said he

father, mother, child

Consensus

Consensus (2023)

are you happy?

yes, I think I am, yes.

no you’re not.

what do you mean?

you’re not.

but I am!

no, you’re not.

come on, I am, really.

no you’re not.

who are you to say
I’m happy or not?

cause you’re not.

oh, shut up!

happy?

not now,
now I’m irritated.

see?

Face

Face (2023)

your face reflects the many tracks you travelled
the dirty dusty roads from there to here
your grooved and hollow cheek

sand-bruised witnesses

eyes as deep as oceans
the shores of which you never came to see
muddy puddles, dried and cracked
reflecting pains of old

your lips broken by ageless thirst
protecting your leather tongue
I’d like to kiss you

your glance of lifeless haziness
away from me
have you no faith
no hope
in me

ears blocked with the noise
of grief, blood and death
and love, lost on the way

I’d like to kiss you
love you

They say that love

They say that love (1983)

they say that love
like other actions of the heart
is a consumer of time

time does not pass faster
there is simply less of it
the heart has its bit

they say that time
(whatever’s left of it)
consumes the heart

the heart does not beat faster
there is simply less of it
time takes its bit

I wonder

then what is growth
what is this sensation
of feeling the heart
love
grow
against shrinking time

future memories left behind
a year, a year or only part

is love, then, the wisdom of the heart,
or wisdom, rather, the love of the mind?

A sonnet on pregnancy

A sonnet on pregnancy (1985)

her features radiant with primal grace
her body in obedience gives room
to her expanding life, a hiding place
a safe and silent sanctuary womb

expecting stars to lighten up the gloom
and earths and moons to claim the empty space
this mortal race awakes but to resume
the tread of daily work’s circuitous pace

times, expectations tend to change their face
and differ from what first we did presume
as nature, in her love and warm embrace
provides new life, new flowers in new bloom

a bosom raised in graceful pregnancy
the blossom of a race in infancy

A mother leaving

A mother leaving (2011)

On the passing of a dear friend’s mother

Now that you’ve left (and at such short notice),
I worry: did you pack all that you need?
Did you take sufficient clothing, a good coat
for these late winter days?

Now that you’ve gone (no time for long goodbyes),
I wonder: where will you sleep, where will you dream?
Are there blankets where you’re going, a soft pillow
for these late winter nights?

I see you did pack some essentials:
my love, eternal gratitude,
my friendship and my heart;
at least part of it.

Now that you’ve died (your room dark and still),
I ask myself, where will you live?
But I know the answer: you now live in me
as I once lived in you.

Before me the river

Before me the river (1993)

before me the river
behind me the wind
blowing my thoughts across the water

across the water
my thoughts
leave their nest:
a bird’s
maiden flight
not knowing how
not knowing where
to forage

before them the river
behind them the wind

packed in smooth shells
born as eggs
thoughts look organized
and understandable

but now
flying out
they look rough
and uneasy
not knowing where
to go
for courage

and

landing
across the river
they seem no longer mine

catch them
they are yours

Ode

Ode (1989)

how often, how too often
do we come out
play a game
moth and flame

how seldom, how too seldom
do we come out
moths to flames

how often, how too often
do we stay within
cocooned
hiding colours

how often, how too often
do we come out
suggesting colours
but grey moths
hairy monsters
singed wings

some say
we should all fly out
circle danger-flames
intense life
exciting life
no time to breathe
carousel of little time

but I
but you
earthbound
by chosen destiny?

here
here in our confinement
we now admire
peaceful beauty
the two children
images of gods

woman
warm firmament
your love a silent blanket
profound peace
we live within you

you are our home

Pictures of some past

Pictures of some past (1982)

Pictures of some past
bring out the beguiled in you;
playful, vivid conquest
recollects the wild in you.
Never wasting time:
Love has settled mild in you

(smiles in you)

Blue light in your mornings,
radiant red afternoons:
no artificial suns
could have killed the child in you.

A sonnet for Alan Kurdi

A Sonnet for Alan Kurdi (2018)

one day you wrote your name upon the strand
a while there was the imprint of your face
little sneakers denting the brackish sand
the sea touching your brow, a diadem of lace

the sweetest boy that ever reached the shore
so beautiful, so wonderful, so dead
you were alive, full-coloured, hours before
the wind roughly and softly made your bed

I swore, we swore, never to forget
Alan, you’ll be the difference, yes, you will
we loved so deep, the moment that we met
then we ùnmet, as you lay there, so still

and came the waves and washed you away
and came the waves and washed you away

Inspired by Edmund Spenser (~1552-1599)