#639 - my invisible friend

 

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my invisible friend

first notes towards the plan for a book

with blank spaces where the pictures

would otherwise be

 

 

my invisible friend

is here again

or went away

not telling

 

everyone has at least

won’t ask you if you’ve seen

 

my invisible friend

never sleeps

or doesn’t need to

 

size M in general

have an attic priest hole

but the shoes can grow

(especially on birthdays)

 

ran up a tree in the dizzy midst

 

from an early age

I was told to believe

but never did any good

 

my invisible friend

is much in agreement

though has to be caught in a certain light

you never can quite tell

 

open a window, a door for

my invisible friend

and welcome

 

up in the sky

down from the trees

ten foot tall

a pooka!

 

my invisible friend

invents a game

knows what I will say next

hides, seeks the same

and loves to dawdle

counts you down

breath by breath

 

my invisible friend

has another time in the clock

 

invisible friend

has another friend

this is the way it goes

 

days off

at times the cloak falls to me

or just a magic scarf

 

I’ve had to go back

and rescue this silly

 

it’s nice though with the wings and fly

 

loves to sit in the sunshine

doesn’t mind soaking up rain

 

my invisible friend

makes up a staircase

hop on hop off

the kind that comes around

 

if only

brilliant at the piano, guitar

keeps a gladstone bag of magic

 

is shy

and so you might not

 

invisible friend in the walls

under the house

can’t see without my glasses

and I won’t say imagine

can however sometimes creep

and up to tricks

 

share everything

and sometimes

it’s all together

we’ve counted the stars

 

I am learning a lot

keep it all under my pillow

you won’t tell

will you?

 

that’s us off on a trail

always a pleasure to meet

 

I know that you’re reading this right now

 

you can torture me

tempt me with chocolate too

it’s all a wink with my friend

wind in the seablown sails

 

and I won’t say the name

won’t give you away

I’ll never say a word

 

esperanta serio #58 - muzeo pri koruptado

 

58

muzeo pri koruptado

  

same kiel registaro povus malaperi

(kaj eble ekzistas multaj tiaj)

ankoraŭ ĉerpu la financojn, kiujn ĝi bezonas

 

do trafiko kreskas super la monumentoj ĉi tie

 

ĵeto de la ĵetkubo konserviĝas

kune kun la momento, kiam digno perdis

ni neniam scius

 

ĉiuj anekdotoj apartenas al iu alia

kaj pruvoj apokrifaj por citi

 

ĉe la alia fino de la strando

estas maljunulo en uniformo

neniu povas diri kies

la maŝino por pecetigi paperon

li puŝas ĝin al ĝia limo

nutrante ĝin per mapoj kaj bildoj kaj mono

 

ĝi estas bona mono

kaj estas sablo eliranta

jardojn da kanvaso

maro mem

 

la altaro de kupideco

estas verda kun malico

 

pensu pri ĉi tio kiel kamentubo

kie brulas nia planedo

 

malhelaj pensoj malpermesitaj en ĉi tiuj prosperaj tempoj

ekonomia malkresko devas montri kiel ni eliras el la arbaro

 

la novaj vestoj de la imperiestro

estas la plej multaj el la spektaklo

 

ĉiu stelo restas tiel fiksita al sia nokto

la muroj estas blanka kiel neĝo

 

a museum of corruption

 

as a government might go missing

(and perhaps there are many such)

still draw down the funds that it needs

 

so traffic grows over the monuments here

 

a throw of the dice is preserved

along with the moment where dignity lost

we’d never know

 

all anecdotes vicarious

and proofs apocryphal to quote

 

at the other end of the beach

there’s an old man in uniform

no one can tell whose

he’s running the shredder full bore

feeding in maps and pictures and money

 

it’s good money

and there’s sand coming out

yards of canvas

sea itself

 

cupidity’s altar

is green with spite

 

think of this a little chimney

where our planet burns

 

dark thoughts forbidden in these prosperous times

downturn’s to show how we’re out of the woods

 

the emperor’s new clothes

are most of the show

 

each star remains as fixed to its night

the walls are a blank as snow

 

 

#638 - a quick history of passports

 

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a quick history of passports

 

who can remember the time before?

but let me tell you what it was like

 

a horse could be used

or if you had a daughter, wife

though the Queen of Sheba managed

 

the first one was in the Bible

and we’ll come to that

 

Boadicea was reluctant to let legions pass

but generally, you know

 

we begin with the stamp of a king

on a patch of hide

fists, spears, slippery sweet phrases

good looks and a well preserved sausage

there were trinkety promises too

 

and days you could pipe a tune

skip over just like that

 

and then it came to pass

invention of paper, of print

no one remembers the time before

 

the original passport

was a piece of foreshadowed retribution

no one was singing

it had to be presented at spearpoint

 

this brings us to the old passport

reminds you of anthem and flag

kind of music box

you choke back a tear

it was a new dawn of course

all sunshine and laughter

where will we have a beer once across?

the cakewalk through customs

then the clamour to house

to feed, to carry you off

 

refugees never had them

(embarrassing swarms

stick in barbed wire

and make up the ocean’s floor)

 

those were the days!

 

it was showing around a gift you’d been given

when you didn’t even know it was your birthday

…

 

and now

 

fingerprints, eye scans

many as good as a wad of cash

 

the new passport

is temperature sensitive, iris adjusted  

careful to dodge questions of race

 

rather classification of body by odour

can suck the air out of a country

 

no census for the dispossessed!

 

it’s holographic – so you needn’t even be there

that’s how far we’ve come!

 

you hand it over silently

but the document itself speaks

says ‘all this was done in my name’

 

fresh functionaries grow swiftly older

under the weight of each next confession

 

the new passport

operates columns of figures

coloured graphs in real time –

the carbon footprint, latest extinctions

things never heretofore admitted or known

 

there is no soul but this is its indelible record

moment to moment

a list of intentions too

 

in fact it is all the result of religion

the new passport is a kind of lie detector

to get you through the camel’s eye

there’s no use second guessing though

telling the truth wouldn’t help

 

the new passport reveals your fingerprints

all over the world

it shows your heart on sleeve

rewards passed down for you to pass on

and how you’ll be punished for this

esperanta serio #57 - damaĝa kontrolo

 

57

damaĝa kontrolo

 

tiuj, kiuj

fabrikas armilojn

aĉetu armilojn

vendi armilojn

tiuj, kiuj

diru al ni

ni devas havi armilojn -

ĉi tiuj homoj havu armilojn

provita ĉe ili

 

 

 

damage control

 

those who

make weapons

buy weapons

sell weapons

those who

tell us

we must have weapons –

these folk should have weapons

tested on them

#637 - let's not come out before it's time

 

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let’s not come out before it’s time

 

let’s leave the loaf to let it rise

delight the city chaos too

in streets of only weather

 

a groundhog wouldn’t

why should you, should we?

 

each season knows

which creatures when

 

the seven sleepers stayed in bed

till they were through with dreaming

 

let’s not come out too soon

 

it’s not over till it’s over

not over till

let’s not call names

we all can sing

and one day will

 

yes let’s not

just me and you

let’s not too soon

 

let’s make believe

it’s just us here

 

an idle idyll

please make mine

 

let’s make believe

we’re gone

esperanta serio #56 - la poeto kun la flugiloj de la giganto

 

56

la poeto kun la flugiloj de la giganto

 

vidu kiom da problemoj ŝi havas

nur por eniri la pordon?

 

ha, sed homoj ne povas vidi ĝin vere, ĉu ne?

 

kiu povas diri la plej belan mensogon?

 

la laboro kaj poste la verko

de la poeto estas veki la mondon

kun la melodio lasita de lasta lumo

 

ĝi estas por ŝi malvolvi foliojn

por atingi verdan celon

 

ankaŭ por starigi la ronkadon

sur papero

kie la dormantoj plej bone aŭdos ĝin

 

ili sonĝas

la maroj de sopiro inter

havenoj de la vekiĝa mondo

 

 

 

the poet with the giant’s wings

 

see how much trouble she has

just getting in the door?

 

ah, but people can’t see it really, can they?

 

who can tell the most beautiful lie?

 

the poet’s work is to wake the world

with the tune left by last light

 

it is for her to unfurl leaves

reach green up for the sky

 

also to set the snoring

down  on paper

where the sleepers will hear it best

 

they are dreaming

the seas of longing between

ports of the waking world

 

#636 - my skin is no colour

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my skin is no colour

 

I come with a glass

telescopically too

or you might not see

 

open to snow white book unbruised

I don’t have to go anywhere

I pass without let or hindrance

 

no monarch need carry wad of cash

dieu et mon droit

blank minded

but it must be a kind of vellum I am

without the tattoo at all

 

sing, sing of it – so fair!

 

it’s as if I were carved from the ice

and I’m passing

penguin fronted

to the glass slipper ball

no one calls my skin

 

it is a thing as if come to life

 

others bend over to starve

I love an irony myself

 

how sticks and stone won’t

 

it’s funny how colourless skin

makes you blind

 

sing, sing of it – so fair!

 

a film through which the archive passes

crocodile thick at times

 

my skin

wise wonderful

is pure as the driven

 

(chorus of slaves

all at oars)

 

lily propelled

texture of canvas had at the sun

or a gentle breeze goes round the world

(the pure plume of exhaust)

 

sing, sing of it

 

you may not have noticed

my skin is a map

is a flag of for over all

stitched with best wishes

birthdays and christmas

 

believe on me

kneel and bless my cloud

 

if I miscegenate

still the deep ache of humanity’s mine

mine mine

it’s magic!

 

did you see me

at the cutlass fray?

did you promise me a land?

 

sing, sing of it – so milking!

so honey sweet

 

think of ghost writing

don’t say a thing

it’s our little secret

 

I’m obscure

I keep hidden

have no accent at all

 

there will be a statute of limitations

and so we pass these duties on

 

words are a pride point

entitle me to

pass through walls

 

and by way of a wand

(kiss this)

I float up through glass ceilings

 

my skin is a bag of invisible tricks

nothing humble if not

unimpeachable pride

 

you know that you would if you could

 

my privileges are parliamentary

as well as journalistic

I lead

and they must sniff me out

to be on the winning side

 

by the way I invented everything

God with me

and by the skin of your teeth

pearly, n’est-ce pas?

 

plan for the world

and for others as well!

 

invisible as…

what colour is a statue?

 

no, mustn’t say

wake with a head

heart ghost skin pale

 

a see-through me

as if not here

this is how deity is everywhere

 

vast archive of self

words lost to light

 

take up a harp when all’s done

my skin is no trouble

no, you needn’t thank me

my skin no colour

at all