Clima - his romance
By littleditty
Tue, 05 Feb 2008
- 1966 reads
2 comments
A warm wind wanders through everything making bells. A glockenspiel knock is ticking the clocks of this clear night while art is a hungry stomach to consume him, or the hot air balloon to keep him aloft. Hold tight, this lightness all of a sudden doesn’t want to be alone. Tug tug tug the soles of his feet on the beach road, his toes wriggling the sand wanting freedom from touches, and yet sensing delight.
A near full moon follows paper down the street; a rustle lifts anticipation to salt dry lips. Now her music surfs the wind. Blow accordion, saxophone, and then the tone of her gypsy violin; she is dancing again on the boulevard before the dusty days sweep in.
How art keeps him afloat, buoyant as guide line channels marking the sea with pathways, and she is saying ‘come to me’, walking, not walking; ‘or lift a coin through the air – and stay a while…’ He watches the crowd revel in her song.
You slice at ribbons
snip, snip, snip,
and it all goes dark
until you see yourself in the shine of the blade,
smiling,
take the blade away - you see –
you can’t cut ribbons of light…
and it all goes dark
until you see yourself in the shine of the blade,
smiling,
take the blade away - you see –
you can’t cut ribbons of light…
He swallows the moon, wipes his sandman tired eyes, and her heavy lashes blink over the glass of cold water. They drink and their lips are wet and ruby red again.
“There are always strings,” she had said,
“There will be one between your Island
and mine tomorrow – you’ll see…”
Yes – he had made her a gem.
He had made her a stone.
They move around each other
in easy circles of eight; shower,
eat; she restrings her old violin,
shuts the shiny case and leaves.
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Comments
Beautiful, loved these
Permalink Submitted by capoeiragem on
Beautiful, loved these lines:
You slice at ribbons
snip, snip, snip,
and it all goes dark
until you see yourself in the shine of the blade,
smiling,
take the blade away - you see –
you can’t cut ribbons of light
The rhythm of the piece is so dreamlike, flowing with such an effortless lyricism which is enhanced by the musical imagery throughout.
Great prose poem, thanks!
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