Monday, September 13, 2010

paths... (3)

by human being

with contributions by francis scudellari and horace p sternwall

illustrations by rhoda penmarq

third of five parts

to begin at the beginning, click here

the circle i draw 
cuts its own path
i watch it lovingly
as it disappears out of my sight


There’s a sidewalk here,
the city has poured,
cemented with smooth
and perfect squares.

It leads to all
the usual places,
only altering when
at last it crumbles.

There's also the rough-
cut route I’ll walk,
taking Aeolus
by his shaky hand
to stroll where moths mingle,
dandelions dance, and
destinations giggle
tickled by our setting suns.

- Late summer's stroll  by Francis Scudellari


on my way
i came across a woman
buying and selling
other people's secrets

- buy something!
- i don't need anything... i travel light
- you want to sell some of your secrets then!
- no... i've got none
- everyone has got at least a few secrets!
- nobody has got any secrets
- then what are these i have here?
- they are your hiding places

inflation is not a change
but deflation is

on my way
i came across an unflying bird
she was lying on the ground
with drooping wings
and an unsinging beak

i hold her in my hands
and looked into her sad eyes

he loved me, she started in a broken voice,
but his love was a cage
he'd envy the sky if i flied
he'd hate the trees if i sat in them
he thought all i sang had to be about him

relating my songs to himself
reproaching me
for the joy
or the grief
or the anger
i expressed towards things in my life

i didn't fly
i didn't sing
i forgot my voice
and even my wings

but one day i came to myself
i was not a bird anymore

who am i then?

i ran away
but he came after me
he said he loved me
but his love was a cage
he said he loved me
but his love was death

these were the last words of the bird

my hands
grew cold

i buried her in my words
and continued on my way
wondering if the hunters ever love the birds


many strange dreams i tried to weave
into what i really believe
but something always broke the spell
so now - i'll never tell

- i'll never tell  by horace p sternwall


part 4


Dan Leo said...

Even birds have relationship problems.

human being said...

they do... especially when they are human incarnations...

Old 333 said...

My ex's grandmother says that crows are the dead. Of course, she also says that blackbirds are an evil cross between 'a raven and other birds' and that they will steal the eyes out of your baby if you leave the stroller unmanned in a park with trees.

human being said...

well... crows are not the first animals to be the victim of man's projections...
in Iran people tell little kids if they do something wrong, the crow will report on them to the parents...

all these fables and stories denote crow's awareness... no? :)