Peycho Kanev
Irresistible fear
Walking carelessly on the sidewalk
in my torn last year’s shoes
Feeling relentless or nothing at all,
dark clouds crossing the blue sky
fences, lawns, houses, closed doors,
faceless people between the walls,
trying to be whatever they told them,
loosing the firm grip on reality
I see something in front of me,
there is one woman with a child,
pacing together slowly towards me,
side by side like they should be
there is some thin red line
that goes from the mother to the child,
from her hand to neck of the kid,
yes, what a beautiful leash or is it?
hallucination I think and flick
my cigarette on the grass like a good boy,
they come near me and stop,
the kid start petting my head and say-
What a beautiful dog,
I try to run fast behind the corner,
feeling scared, I wet my self,
they just stand there, caressing me,
I start to howl.
Passion
Do it slowly,
while you breathe under the stars,
and although I told you that you are
sister of the moon, I was wrong,
she is only your insipid semblance.
Do not stop breathing,
I want to watch the nakedness of
the stars, their eternal arousal,
do not cover the universe with your
sparkling veil
what matters now is in the water
and under your skin.
slide.
Conclusion
You are undressing like
you are having medical exam.
That is so inadmissible.
Do you know how I feel?
my soul is broken at the edges,
my heart is forgotten mended drum,
my picture in your wallet burns
in the flames of the purgatory
and now
the old springs of the bed
make old, rusty sounds,
Do you know what I feel?
When we finish,
please,
put me in your purse
to dwell with all the other
lost artifacts.
Thinking
Yawning against the orange sun;
new day has begun,
the waves of the ocean are splashing
against the shore,
turning my fading dreams into spume,
new pain arrived,
exactly like the one that vanished with her
when she left,
and I turn in the bed,
watching the sun burnt body next to mine,
the gentle breathing,
thinking nothing about my life or hers,
thinking nothing,
thinking…
everything is so pure now,
after you’ve been scrubbed with the sandpaper
of this old lady
Sorrow.
The dogs
Sitting in this dingy room
in front of the keyboard
as the moon light penetrates
through the venetian blinds
as the bottle of white wine
pours the life into me
as the walls shift and get
darker
I am picking at the memories
and let them unfold in front of
me;
I remember now two years ago
visiting the country of my birth
in Eastern Europe
and what I’ve remembered most
were the dogs on the streets;
free and undisturbed, no owners,
no collars, no worries, no food,
lying in the parks, sleeping on
the grass between the highways,
picking at the garbage bins for
scraps, chasing the cats in the
alleys, taking their time, biting
the legs of the pedestrians and
at night when it’s quiet outside-
wailing at the moon;
why they do that I will never
know,
but know as this memory bites
the whiteness of the page,
one wail is blasting upon this
sleepy neighborhood, causing
the city dwellers to jump off
their beds.
my throat is sore.
copyright © peycho kanev
2009
