poetryrepairs 15,,03:029

AUSTIN ALEXIS : The Discovery
AUSTIN ALEXIS : Stages of an Illness
AZZA ELWAKEEL: Before You Say Farewell

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The Discovery

What kind of a life leads to this: you dead for a year without anyone knowing, you decaying in a rocking chair, startling the mailman with your stench, astounding the police with your sculptural quiet? You reveled in solitude. Parentless and friendless, retired from all strivings you traveled underneath landscapes, not knowing their rustlings, their temperatures, the bounce and weight of their tree limbs. You answered to no name. Your life was something behind fog: unreadable. Oh impressionist painting, deliberately unclear! Or maybe an indefinite article or pronoun: not attached to an object or antecedent, floating in a void you refused to see as loneliness. You rocked in that chair, and the squeak of propelled wood became your speech: sometimes a dialogue, a talk with whatever shadows entered and departed the stark angles of your living room. Often your motion became a desperate monologue spoken to your memories, or the air. Your swaying was a wail unappreciated, unheard. You were to life as the dragonfly is to a cityscape: an entity that flits over it without touching it. But being an individual, you deserve at least a name, an acknowledgement from existence that you, gray matter, are more than food for maggots, more than dust.

poetryrepairs #210 15,03:029

Stages of an Illness

for Elaine Shipman
“I want to die,” I heard my good friend mutter to herself, or to the blank white hospital room corner. Just eight days before she’d insisted, “Look, I’m getting better!” Nonetheless, as time trickled by the disease acted to present its stubborn evolving stages and then she scowled, clenched her teeth, regretted she had entered life, sort an exit from her performance. The world’s theatre had oozed the verve from her brain, worn her vocal chords’ attempts to a sparrow’s cry, withdrawn the orchestral support every voice needs to thrive. I said silence. Though motivated to visit her I wondered what my entrance lines should be. I tried the role of heroic courage, moved mutely among medicinal smells, languid IV cords and inert plastic curtains no breeze would breathe life into, no sun would brighten and animate.

poetryrepairs #210 15,03:029

Before You Say Farewell

Your first cup of love Tasted sweet The second bitter Will the third be killing me? You; my last amazing stations My last heart beats I read that some people Are like ice They long for sun warmth To slip inside them But are afraid to thaw Were you an icy man? Hidden out of fearing me And preferred to forget! After you I gathered my sun threads And drew my eyes with sorrows Your love changed into an alcohol fall That pours into my wounded heart Your memory is the secret Of my flowing tears No religion would accept The pain you're causing me Come; bring your next cup Even if it's poisoned I'm not frightened I'm filled with desire To die the most delightful death If there's some mercy in your heart Promise me one last wish Before you say farewell Make me drunk one more time From a cup of your sweet happiness

poetryrepairs #210 15,03:029

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