11. 27. 2006. 08:37

Blade in Fashion (poems)

Gabor G. Gyukics

"With an easy walk
She passed the executioner
Stepped off the podium
Leaving bloody footsteps"

The Snake Is Back 
Crestfallen serpent carries her poison
wrenching, lingering around a fair church
stealing priests' dream
The priests are carelessly holding
white gloves and umbrellas
their bare feet flash as they prowl
not thinking while crossing over
to curiously stare at lately acquired pictures
of locals who would never return
to pursue their faith, to persuade each other for
a simple substance which hasn't remained here
only vague attacks
abrupt faints and
peremptory sacrifices
no rain has fallen
no cold air arrived
the snake empties her poison
in the holy water with
paradise calmness
through doors, windows
she returns and coils up
on her highchair
she is the doctor of
nonsensical illusions
guarding the antidote

A sad bird froze to the neighbor's windshield.
Its snow stuffed body
hail picking beak
and sickle stiff claws
shattered the safety glass
into non-recyclable trash.
The swearing neighbor
grabbed the ice-winged carcass
broke it in half
gathered the pieces
and threw them up to the winter air.
Fly! - he screamed
Fly! - he screamed raging cold-blooded
at the scene of the scheme
not seeing
as the two half birds came to life
rose to fall
one winged
into his reddening eyes

A diabolically consolidated wasp's nest with a
Woman as its resilient keeper was found in the
Same woman's vertebrae during autopsy,
The coroner seemed bathetic as he turgidly
Drew his initials on the side of the nest
In the rancid spine line to ensure his first right
To this bouncing discovery.
The woman's puffed up face showed aversion
Regarding the intrusion into her cagey body,
She was inclined to diminish the coroner's derogatory
Invasion for she had been nurturing these
Ferocious inhabitants of her nest with
Complimentary attention, with
Utter persuasion to let them maintain their
Own proliferation by overlooking
Flowers in dewy cemeteries,
Jiving tactile grave diggers and as the primary goal of existence.
Now, at present the woman's bony shell
Is laid out in the morgue, with the
Abandoned nest inside her waiting for the
Final taxidermy.

Forge or Subdue
         A man of deception drove a red car stolen from a white hearted garage across the neighborhood of perpetual music,  
turned the street corner that vaguely resembled a South Asian hell where he had spent years in an area sanctuary,
sneezing purposely to achieve separation from the goggle eyed alliance of poisonous, covert intelligent servicemen of his own country.
         Now again he unwillingly crossed the line of sludged sentiment he wished to eliminate from the archives of his system and deciphered that he hated those who wanted to have him and hated those who were not interested in having him.
         After arriving to silence he sat down on an unfamiliar stoop and dreamed of a piece of water-jewelry that the daughter of a pearl diver wore around her neck.

The Noontide and the Chemist 
The funnel of a once to come quizzical Noontide
Edged itself to the lung-colored branches of ancient trees
A subtle Chemist surprised the seashore crowd by
Burning himself and becoming the subject of his
Own chemistry as he was washed away
The residue didn't register anywhere
Only a saw-toothed shadow of a scapula was seen
Later under a sinister cliff side

A freight boat of suicide twins
anchored on the Adriatic
close to an Italian port
They went ashore
and one of them
got stoned
The act was cheered
by the village idiot
The twin
still alive
swam back to the boat
and lit a smoke.

Blade in Fashion
Wearing a transparent gown
She crossed the threshold
Approaching a guillotine
With shorn hair
With red scarf around her neck
With an easy walk
She passed the executioner
Stepped off the podium
Leaving bloody footsteps
On the cobble stone of the
Octagonal square
Sunk into the steaming clouds
Of the mobs perspiration
Making her entrance in the
Carnage of the 21st century

Tags: Gabor G. Gyukics