"heliopolis" poems
Old Mother’s hands shook,
When pouring my tea
And I’d
Savor the scent of hyacinth.
Old Mother’s hands shook,
When scribing time
And I’d
Wed her fatherless daughter.
Old Mother’s hands shook,
On cloud, under crevice,
And I’d
Lift her cup to lip;
Old Mother’d drink,
Her hands, like the trees,
And we’d
Both cry tears of ecstasy.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
An ode to you on your birthday, Osiris:
Your example of redefined divinity
gives us pause, a momentary blink
during which you have cleverly
shape-shifted within and without.
(It was so fast so fluid so sublime...
Did you see it?
Were you watching?)
Your lover dutifully collected your members,
reuniting all that could be found,
reforging your manhood minus your manhood.
Do not fear, Osiris.
We will build you a phallus out of
artful decadence and corn husks.
(It is a testament to our love...
Did you see it?
Were you watching?)
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 12:29 AM UTC
Masses flooding
running, gushing
in sclerotic streets
from Heliopolis to downtown Cairo
and from the great pyramid
to the stone lions
of Pre-colonial royalty
over the river Nile
lost in the way for country heart
me, my soul, and couple of my friends
whom I lead to end arteries
of the city hemorrhagic
were shot by snipers
of Victorian
national police
and some years later,
I want to write a poem
let´s say cosmic
or universal
about that trio human
dream, death and deception
"Emilio, Lorenzo, Enrique
Fueron los tres en mis manos"
a cancer larynx revolution,
of bad alcohol and tobacco?
two holy hands of fate,
and one of eternal ************
and a bored Lenin setting behind a screen?
(the algorithm will do the masses
when the masses are ready to run )
but time as God
is a lazy surgeon
forgot a scalpel in my throat
and I am being cured of every thing
even the nasty hollow
of my tired voice.
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 9:58 AM UTC