DAISY PAGE

   Je n'ai jamais �crit des po�mes
   Pourtant parfois, les nuits de pleine lune,
   Je les voyais ramper lentement sur les murs
   En �rcs sinueux dans la lumi�re bl�me.
   Ecris-nous, ils disaient, on veux vivre,
   On veux figurer dans tes oeuvres posthumes!

   Mais,
   Je n'ai jamais �crit des po�mes
   Comment les attraper, les �pingler sur des pages,
   Des pages restant � jamais de la couleur de lune.
   Et ils tournaient, tournaient sur les murs,
   Les chrysalides auveugles, veules de mes po�mes,
   Qui ne s'envoleront nulle part.

   DIALOGUE WITH MY BROKEN HEART

- Why do you ache so much, my foolish, broken heart?
- Because I am burying today your last love, the born-dead.
- Who said that love has died, my badly battered heart?
-Your mind talking to reason , that's what I overheard,
the first explaining to the second, or the other way around,
"when the silence is the answer you have got for all response,
it is time to call it quits, time to take out the black gown.
Remove the settled dust, put it on ,and be ready to go down
and with a dignified stance, announce to your kin around,
to bones, marrow, entrails, numbed senses, that it is past tense
for the great ball, feast, firecrackers and all such nonsense".

   Minimal sacrifice

   The oyster clamped again tight shut,
   After they pried it open
   To plant the tiny speck of sand
   As poison in her heart.

   And if they hope to gather the result,
   The most desired pearl,
   They have to wait until her death
   Or have to kill her now.

   Poor little thing, like any other living
   Soul, body and entrails,
   Giving birth to such a priceless gift,
   Cost her both life and death.

    The last sentence

   Again, escaping the Reason's vigilance,
   My feelings flew through the heart's iron bars
   And perched on the whirling winds large back,
   Run to attain their aim, the farthest stars realm.
   In their maddening flight upon the open space,
   They crossed Phaeton in his golden, splendid char,
   Who speeded up towards his long life-living dream,
   To embrace tight and make love to the so bright Sun.
   They clutched at the sides of the passing char ,loudly
   Cheering, were they enjoying such unexpected free ride,
   And up they went, together, fast fending the purest Ether,
   Higher and higher, up to the marvellous station, the next star.

   The Sun said : "Oh, come to me, my earthling love !"
   And burning of desire gathered Phaeton in his arms,
   But neither human, beast, nor humble human feelings,
   Could endure His heat, light, love at such short range.
   Down they went, horses, wheels, whip and burned limbs,
   And my feelings, star-scorched, bruised and badly beaten,
   Gratefully rejoined their closed heart cell, the last refuge,
   With high cries of repentance and once more repeated oaths,
   That nevermore, they swear, will they try - to escape again.
   But how could the Reason let himself, as many times before,
   Be fooled so by those shameless, unrepentant cheaters, liars?
   This time is certain, he will lock them twice and won't forget
   As he did, unwisely, so often before that, to throw away the key.