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Contemporary
International
Poetry

online since 1997


Sam Vaknin is the author of Malignant Self Love - Narcissism Revisited and After the Rain - How the West Lost the East. He is a columnist for Central Europe Review, PopMatters, and eBookWeb , a United Press International (UPI) Senior Business Correspondent, and the editor of mental health and Central East Europe categories in The Open Directory and Suite101. Until recently, he served as the economic advisor to the government of Macedonia. Visit Sam's Web site at http://samvak.tripod.com



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Prague at Dusk
c2004
SAM VAKNIN


SAM VAKNIN SAM VAKNIN poet#04.03:020C020 poet#04.03:020D020 poet#04.03:020E020
  

       SAM VAKNIN
Prague at Dusk


Prague lays over its inhabitants in shades of grey. Oppressively close
to the surface, some of us duck, others simply walk carefully, our
shoulders stooped, trying to avoid the monochrome rainbow at the end of
the hesitant rain. Prague rains itself on us, impaled on one hundreds
towers, on a thousand immolated golden domes. We pretend not to see it
bleeding to the river. We just cross each other in ornate street
corners, from behind exquisite palaces. We don't shake heads politely
anymore. We are not sure whether they will stay connected if we do.

It is in such times that I remember an especially sad song, Arabic
sounds interlaced with Jewish wailing. Wall after wall, turret after
turret, I re-visit my homeland. It is there, in that city, which is not
Arab, nor Jewish, not entirely modern, nor decidedly antique that I met
her.
And the pain was strong.



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Contemporary
International
Poetry

online since 1997



Getting Old
c2004
SAM VAKNIN


120x60

  

       SAM VAKNIN
Getting Old


The sageing flesh,
a wrinkled vicedom.
The veined reverberation
of a life consumed.
On corneas imprinted
with a thousand dreams,
now stage penumbral plays
directed by a sight receding
and a brain enraged.
To fall, as curtains call,
to bow the last,
rendered a sepia image
in a camera obscured,
a line of credits,
fully exhausted,
fully endured.
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