Suddenly you're awake*

It's the middle of the night
the Sun is on another continent.
You know this, because the first thing
you do every morning is check your phone,
pleading it's not too late
to sleep another fifteen minutes.

-it's not too late-

(with burning eyes you seethe at yourself
for forgetting to turn the brightness down...again).

-You are fully awake-

Here you are
having the energy you'd
die to have when lifting pallets at work,
or spending time with friends later that evening.

-Why am I so awake?-

-You begin to listen-

You don't hear any sounds that would have woken you up.

-You begin to check for sore spots-

The only spot that hurts is your elbow, but it always stings a little, ever since you tripped over your own shoe in the hallway, (which reminds you not to trip over it again, since it's never not in the hallway).

-You start thinking-

It couldn't have been Missy, because
you haven't been able to find your cat the last couple days.
Your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, since they're visiting their family all the way out in Wyoming.

-You turn on your side-

Staring at the wall, you notice that your eyes have almost finished adjusting to the dark.

Turning to your computer, you look for the ribbed moonlight that spills across the monitor every night, that helps ease you to sleep any restless moment.

Oddly, there isn't any moonlight.

Dream is a bubble,
easily burst from a light touch.
At time, I forget I am a guest in my dream,
A host and a guest;
In control yet not,
bizarre yet naught,
unexpected yet forgot.
Life too, is a dream,
a very long dream indeed.

My wife is a unique person
Exhibiting new lovely traits
She goes quiet like a mouse
A new woman of few words

My wife is a strange woman
Getting stranger by the day
She looks warily all around
A careful mare!

My wife is an odd creature
Staying up all night
Whispering and crying
But I know she's alright

My wife is a complex puzzle
But such an endearing thing!
She screams and flails all around
As if she can't help but sing

With each passing day
There is more that I would like to say
Than a few simple words
To let them fly free as birds
Into the open air
Yearning for all to be fair

Another day
Do I ever wish to stay
At the side of an angel, alas,
Mother’s forbid such romantic tales

Indeed, all is strange

Listen to you heart
O the things it shall tell you
Very interesting things,
Emotions are

Yet always so very curious
O the curiosity of it indeed
Under the nose of those that disapprove

Communication, words flowing through the air
Alas, kept in hushed tone
Never before such a risk
To be presented

Yes, indeed all is well
O, but don’t tell
Under the stars, all is swell

Stretching across the grand expanse
Ever so wondrous
Even words are not great enough to describe its grandeur

This world is surely strange
How human emotions work is stranger still
At the end, does hope whisper in a cautious ear
Telling of possibility and chance?

- Jay M
May 15th, 2020

Couplets
by Jaun Elia
translations by Michael R. Burch

I am strange—so strange
that I self-destructed and don't regret it.
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The wound is deep—companions, friends—embrace me!
What, did you not even bother to stay?
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My nature is so strange
that today I felt relieved when you didn't arrive.
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Night and day I awaited myself;
now you return me to myself.
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Greeting me this cordially,
have you so easily erased my memory?
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your lips have provided thousands of answers;
so what is the point of complaining now?
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Perhaps I haven't fallen in love with anyone,
but at least I convinced them!
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The city of mystics has become bizarre:
everyone is wary of majesty, have you heard?
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: Jaun, Elia, couplets, Urdu, translation, nature, strange, strangeness, love, memory, mrburdu

The Owls are Watching

In memory of Helen Martins
'The Owl House'
Nieu Bethesda, South Africa

In sculpture and rock rested your art
Cement faces that speak volumes
Of emotions and tales untold
As mysterious as your life itself
Glittering walls of crushed glass
That shone by candlelight
Outside of art you were branded
Though remembered as unique and ahead of your time
With big glass eyes the owls watch the world
What was once your sanctuary
Now a showcase to the world
Recognized at last
Unspeakable loneliness of a soul misunderstood
Now your handwritten letters are framed and displayed for all to read
But you don't mind the curiosity of mankind
With cement hands raised to the heavens facing the east
You drank your chosen cup
Your Mecca now complete

Written by Sean Achilleos
28 March 2016©

How this poem came about:

I was a visitor to the Owl House Nieu-Bethesda South Africa in 2015. Approximately, one year later I was inspired to write a poem about the late great Helen Martins. I was intrigued by the eccentricity of this woman.

One evening while in my living room and enjoying a glass of wine, my eye caught the cement owl in my windowsill which I had purchased outside the Owl House from a vendor. I saw its big blue glass eyes glaring at me. At the time I was listening to a Jennifer Ferguson record, and decided to write while the music was playing. Once I had completed the poem I felt exhausted. Then a very strange phenomena occurred, the lights went off for a few seconds and came back on, unlike a power surge. It reoccurred a second time that same evening, and never since. It felt like a supernatural intervention. As far fetched as it may sound, it seemed like Mrs. Martins had personally given her approval of the poem. I then decided to email it to the official Owl House website. I didn't think much would come of it. However, they embraced the poem and were generous enough to display it on their official Website for a number of years under a section titled "A Visitor's Perspective".

https://g.co/kgs/BPyx1U

You feel you are the only
But there are many, socially distanced:
Unseen and unknown, gifted but imprisoned;
For the time is not yet, but it tarries not:
In half a time and not the fullness thereof.
Today is not a strange day;
That day will be when two are agreed,
And heaven, the sun, moon and stars
Fall down and bow low to Man.