Читать книгу The Collected Poems of Lorenzo Thomas - Lorenzo Thomas - Страница 12

The Bathers

ONION BUCKET

All silence says music will follow

No one acts under any compulsion

Your story so striking and remain unspoken

Floods in the mind. Each one trying now

To instigate the flutter of light in your

Ear. The voice needling the flashy token

Your presence in some room disguised

As the summer of the leaves. Hilltops

Held by the soft words of the running

Wind. What lie do you need more than this

The normal passion. And each thing says

Destroy one another or die. Like a natural

Introducing here on this plant to Europe

The natural. A piece of furniture, smell

Taste some connection to your earth and

“Realize” nothing more than you need

Another view nothing more than you need yourself

Or that is beautiful. Or your luck that speaks.

Lifting its shoulders out the language

Of the streets. Above. The sky worried

Into its own song. Solid rhythm. She stays

Too close for a letter, scared of a telegram

The finger drum express. Impatient blues.

Anxious blues. Her chemical song loud and

Bright in his dimension. This is the world.

The vegetables are walking.

TWELVE GATES

Face it. The stars have their own lives and care

They are forced into it by your other eye and

Opposite side of your thoughts. Who takes sides

The world quite as fashionable as liars imagined

The picture of one fragile girl in an avalanche

Of the kimono required for their soft trade.

Who is so daring at first to draw lines in the sky

Dingy with this neglected daylight. Opened fan.

Life itself is such a simple thing and we need it

Then here come the music again. And we need that too

People asking each other. The invention of reason.

And those who own nothing what of those walking around

Without land, without cash value, properties. Without

Nothing in their name. Whose destinies

Are not marked or marked down. What of

The ones who are meant to rise in the world

By their names. Whose names are not known.

These worlds are lost in a minute only a gem

Of substance remaining. The necessity to change the form.

These streets clothed in an atmosphere of ash and care-

Less emotion. Who are these persons roll their shoulders

Outside the window in starlight and streetlight

Each young man there reminds the girl of someone

These are the last words I send you for a while.

Written across her fan. Her open eye all flame and

You can feel it take shape in your eye. The lines.

Sufficient confusion calls for a song and

The figure with how many sides. Holler.

Once to the ocean. Sing it for the woman

Whose hands open and deliver the dream

Arousing itself from the day’s laborer walking

These streets back from the edge of the river

Deep into town. Traffic. Your voice plays across

The street on the curb right into my open hand

OTHER WORLDS

I see through you in advance!

There are no petty graces

This coffee cup gone cold

Promised recovery. A dutch heart.

What this world is coming to questions and cups.

The song and renewal.

We would rather have you here than absent

Though you fall vomiting into the soup.

We would rather have you here, in English

Than train you in less grand arts of decline

What is not the machine and imposter elevates me

A simple gesture. Not a thought.

This is very important, read it over again

I JUST WANT TO REACH OUT AND BITE YOU BABY

As any time another “hep me”

Addressed to the willing

Stars. And it is effective

Like another fine creature

Beautiful animal just find me

And put her soft life in my hand

For a minute. An hour

Without a second thought

Knowing it is gone be lazy

And gentle and knowing

Everything all about it

You are no big head tonight

Keed. Just sit back there and keep

Your big feet out the dim and

Extravagant journey that puddle

On the floor. Where.

Just because you pretty

When you come in the door

And a temporary genius or star

This one night or nights

Still arriving. Across the way and

Down the alley too. Pretty

Thing. Hungry? And what else

You inquire and think you need

Badly. To “survive” or bullshit

Your way into another eternity

Of less meaningful phrases and

Faces made interesting to junior

Samaritans and other meddlers

Long the road to a wide nose

Jerusalem. In other words, I mean

Why be an idiot of the daytime

Now that everything is so inviting

And so fun. What to do concerts

Nobody in they right mind. Only

When the dark comes on and feeling

Crazy. One tender smile or nod

Bank the belly furnace. Swollen

Tongue. Wanted. Corpulent shadows

Oriental as the goat glaze eye.

Like to walking into the wrong room

Again the tender smile and hands

Under the dumb stars

A smile of beauty cunning

For the exhibition

Such emaciation make all fat people feel good

The compliment of his being

There

THE BATHERS

We turned to fire when the water hit

Us. Something

Berserk regained

An outmoded regard for sanity

While in the fire station

No one thought of flame

Fame or fortune did them

We did them a fortune. We did

Them a favor just being

Ourselves inside of them

Holy day children

In the nation coming your children will learn all about that

But the water creep about us

Water hit us with force.

We saw a boy transformed into a lion

His tail is vau the syllable of love

A master before fellow craft

The summit of the Royal Arch

Lotus. Mover on the face of the waters …

Sleepless Horus, watch me as I lie

Curtained with stars when ye arise

And part the skies. And mount the Royal

Bark

They said the ancient words in shameful English

Their hearts rose up like feathers

In the hidden place

And Horus step into the flood of noon

Shedding his light upon the worlds

It was in Birmingham. It happened.

Week after week in the papers

The proof appeared in their faces

Week after week seeing the same moment grow clearer

Raising the water,

Filling the vessel. Raising the water.

Filling the vessel

O electromagnetic Light shadûf!

Ancient hands bearing water

Ha

The star broke

Over the tub

All righteousness

Not deceived by sunshine nor the light

From a man’s desire

Deceived by desire

So that in the moment

The people cast light from their bodies

“Light” being the white premeditation

The simplest fashion

What they want is light

Another source to equip

Their dry want

Want fire light. Space light

Discretions of neon

At least. So to appear natural

Where the sun is

360° of light

Consumed in the labors of comfort

That cries for the balm

Of all that is natural

Desire.

Bathing in the dark

The water glowing

In the plastic curtain

Suddenly heated

As another expels past satisfactions.

cold as she washes gas tears

From her man’s eyes. We hate you.

Hot on her soft thigh

Like the dog’s breath at noon by the Courthouse

We hate you for that

But ancient hands raised

This water

As the street’s preachers

Have a good understanding hear them

O israel this O israel that

Down here in this place

Crying for common privilege

In a comfortable land

Their anger is drawing the water

Their daughters is drawing the water.

Their kindness is laving and

Oiling its patients.

That day

The figures on the trucks inspired no one

Some threw the water

On their heads.

They was Baptists

And that day Horus bathed him in the water

Again

And orisha walked amid the waters with hatchets

Where Allah’s useful white men

Came there bearing the water

And made our street Jordan

And we stepped into our new land

Praise God. As it has been since the first time

Through the tear of a mother

THE LION IS THE LAMB

for Ben & Marylin

So that is why you miss certain people

Looking for them

A day. But the impressions

Are so different

Curtis is out on his own

A master, like the man said

On the radio

Ba ba ka ra ba ka

Ab ib rb ra brer

This is what is happening

Life. Ile lfe

The witness:

This is you one two hours ago

Now as real as a snapshot

Coming to Berkeley with the wrong

Magazine

In my hand. No wonder

I am not myself

But I’m learning

Within you

The stars wheel

And cakewalk

As usual, you think up

Something else to complain of

Since the day and the women

Are beautiful

You are not yourself

For which you are thankful

They thinking abt you and things

You know to tell them

They listening to Huey on the radio

Today’s lesson in temporary English

We say “you” politely

To avoid pronouncing your name

You are the one and the name

Of you is ancient, magic and powerful

Holy

We want you to be beautiful and

You are.

ANUBIS

A tiger stripped

Of passion

Is not equal

To a dove

The jackal is

A sentry

In his greed

A lamp beneath the mountain

Is a hieroglyph

For love. A man

Should never want

Less than he need