Trembling

Trembling

Forgive me, for only tonight I realize it.
The fool I have been.
Now, I want to listen, and so deeply
That with your every breath
Words are noise.
Let me listen.
I want you to lean into me, not saying anything,
But trembling, feel me tremble.

Whisper. Tell me what moves you.
I want to know what moves you.
More than ever opening my eyes
Again, I want to know.
What moves you.

I said these things to you
As the night itself turned us inside out.

We looked at the river in the moonlight.
And a log went by, floating.
On it, a duck stood.

It was when we fell back on the grass
Laughing, I knew. You would never
Never be gone, were a cyclone to take you
From me.
Nor I, from you.

And we trembled in the grass together,
Until we shivered.
Knowing it.

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2007

Who Stays?

Who Stays?

Most think they are here to see me.
The gluttons, how little they know.
I have been awake for centuries, patient.
Hooks in my back.
Watching for the admirer among them.
For heels to stop echoing. To find love.

They peer, hand on elbow for twenty seconds.
Lean forward, with a nibble at the temple tips.
A squint, a tilt of the head, and as quickly, walk.
Others glance and jot, consulting the programme
Or wristwatch. At this cog in the afternoon wheel
They nod or shrug, smile or frown,
But seldom stay.

Who stays?
Most are content to not break stride.
Who lingers, to see themself?
Only these latter give me rest.

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2007

Rent

Rent

I dare you to find among things winged or hooved
A more nutty idea, a thing so far removed
From basic common sense. You can’t do it!
Even oxen would would throw off their yoke and eschew it.

Ask the busiest of lads, [I refer to the beaver]
That steady, stick-carrying, over-achiever.
He does what he does for one reason. To own!
When’s he’s done the damn dam the damn dam is his home!

And the chickens and bees, daily robbed of their labors
Know it’s only because they’ve got humans for neighbors.
So it’s not from compliance they continue their striving
But in faith and in hope they keep laying and hiving.

And the horse, does he willingly hitch to the carriage?
To be told who to woo, who be given in mare-age?
No. There’s only one reason he bends to the plow.
It’s the bit in his mouth puts the sweat on his brow.

Surely man’s the dumb beast, and for instance, take me.
Month by month giving money that I’ll never see,
To a landlord unseen. And he makes his own home
With the fortune I’ve traded for what I’ll not own.

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2007

Chimes

[above photo courtesy of Catharina at This Window]

Chimes

I made some chimes.
It’s what I do. I try. I hope.
I put them up where they will catch the sun.
If they tinkle in the breeze, all the better.
That will add to the combined effect.
My intentions, if nothing else,
Will let me know that I am not alone.

I made some chimes.
And hoped that the inner walls
Of where I live, would live.
One ray would do it,
Travel the millions,
Oh, the miles. To stop here.
And tell me that I have never been
Alone.

I made some chimes.
But clouds, the most honest and wet, rolled in.
And looking out, never had my chimes
Showed themselves
As wonderful,
As then.

Who places chimes Is never alone.
Who places chimes is in perfect company
With all who have never caught the sun.

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2007