Blesok no. 25, March-April, 2002
Poetry


Fine
(From the book "Multiplying of the Word")

Vera Čejkovska



Fine


asbestos sky       and a fiery shoe
in the dunghill by the parking lot: sun:
a fine the bleak day fines the eye-balls with
and the nearest ashen facade at
Sight nibbles    gnaws at the eye




Delirium


deaf sky    and rose-buds in
the clay beginning: limp
brain…    down to the Lips,
crimson cramps of the grey

concrete walls, above the leaves…




Stairway


barren trees    and birds’
skeletons         flattened
stepping upward    descending…
          And
the topmost stroke of silence
          at
the first stair…




The Box


Absolutely
the clock’s metal hands wear out the numbers
but its algebra renews itself
its algebra becomes a fugue
I put the nibbled pearls in the jewelry box
the broken bangles      the severed necklaces.
The candles make the marble figurines
and the curtains dance:

     Once upon a time
     the universe was an infinite void




Winter Budding


multi-angled sky.
     a new fable inscribed in the windows.
     new foliage growing into super-thin
porcelain

     fragile frail frame:    my house




Moonshine


when the indigo screen appears
A glass of milk spills over it into a new Milky Way.
like a fairy’s lymph     an oil slick
over your flesh
tender and gentle
like a tame Zoroastrian cow
Light mercurial dew trickled from the branches
over my hair. And the pastures became emerald green
sponges
delicate nets of possibilities
When I burrowed into my dream
the soft tissue throbbed
above a pink mist     over the silk cushions




Love


the pattern of the stars expanding

     in the reflection of my nails

        and into your eyes

your black windows, 1001 tail-coats    

     stripping me naked


as if
I were stealing a cherry from the Garden




The Fall of Paradise


my eyes in love with and glued to
the brown celestial branch on the TV screen.

And:
if
I wear the white silk
why do you throw me a handful of rotten cherries


             like seeds of Great Oblivion




Glitter


I raised the mirror and saw it grown old.
dark spots. diminutives of the huge cosmic
hunger.
and you
you love the Milky Way. your
voluptuous potion stretching like a scattered
alchemical rapture.

and the bliss
multiplies        like harmony
yearning for another
               which is less so




Bath


dreams spilling.

I let a fresh landscape flow   through enamel
gutters    like evil blood through the veins
of the world.             then
I recover it again. like a face plated in silver,
like violet veils covering teary eyes,    like

soft skin defying darkness.




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