Eileen Tabios
(Nobility
Suffering never matters when publicized
Diamonds (or handcuffs) never complete a bed
Introductions never suffice
Snowfall evokes Africa--
she once straddled a man there
for access to his blanket’s palate
threads defining all of the primary colors
as well as what leaves color speechless
She welcomed the grittiness of fabric
against her knees, ignoring the clench
of his teeth upon her breasts
She was determined to live in Technicolor
In New York City, the snow is never pure--
she loves the effect of contamination
on white
She longs for surprise
long alien to her since a young poet
declared within the fogged world
of an older century:
I write from a position of happiness--
my way of extending tradition
an aesthetic
consideration
She lowers her eyes to his only book
a poem long-memorized for
its conclusion: The physical reality
of revolution is decadence
The aftermath is what transcends
(How Cyberspace Lost Midnight
In another dimension there existed petals
clinging to a wet pavement
forlorn in their solitude
but insistent in their grasp
She is familiar with departures--
the loosening of embraces
the forfeiture of birth places
In another dimension, a monk
smiled forever at her, making
small huts, large bells, whiskered
goats and gnarled trees disappear
until all she could witness was
the monk’s body interrupting
a charred horizon. She held on
to the monk’s smile until
a swath of his red robe fluttered
to distract her gaze towards
cotton so soft she felt it as
silk. Nor did she need it to skim
across her cheek to receive
the resuscitation of a caress
This thing called “Internet” intervened
Every e-mail cackles: I am
where no man (sic) has gone before
This thing eliminated insomnia
In the ensuing blur of meaning
she launched a message through
its black hole that compelled
poets across eight continents to
reply with agitated fingers
But she is still waiting for
the new world of new words
that would compel her to pull
the emergency rope that halts
the train she discovered herself
piloting. Yea, though there are
bodies laid across the tracks
__________
Eileen R. Tabios will release her 20th print poetry collection, SUN STIGMATAS: Sculpture Poems, in Fall 2014 from Marsh Hawk Press. She blogs at "Eileen Verbs Books" at http://eileenverbsbooks.blogspot.com; edits Galatea Resurrects, a popular poetry review journal at http://galatearesurrects.blogspot.com; and curates online projects such as "Link In To Poetry," a list of recommended contemporary poetry publications at http://linkedinpoetry.blogspot.com.
(Nobility
Suffering never matters when publicized
Diamonds (or handcuffs) never complete a bed
Introductions never suffice
Snowfall evokes Africa--
she once straddled a man there
for access to his blanket’s palate
threads defining all of the primary colors
as well as what leaves color speechless
She welcomed the grittiness of fabric
against her knees, ignoring the clench
of his teeth upon her breasts
She was determined to live in Technicolor
In New York City, the snow is never pure--
she loves the effect of contamination
on white
She longs for surprise
long alien to her since a young poet
declared within the fogged world
of an older century:
I write from a position of happiness--
my way of extending tradition
an aesthetic
consideration
She lowers her eyes to his only book
a poem long-memorized for
its conclusion: The physical reality
of revolution is decadence
The aftermath is what transcends
(How Cyberspace Lost Midnight
In another dimension there existed petals
clinging to a wet pavement
forlorn in their solitude
but insistent in their grasp
She is familiar with departures--
the loosening of embraces
the forfeiture of birth places
In another dimension, a monk
smiled forever at her, making
small huts, large bells, whiskered
goats and gnarled trees disappear
until all she could witness was
the monk’s body interrupting
a charred horizon. She held on
to the monk’s smile until
a swath of his red robe fluttered
to distract her gaze towards
cotton so soft she felt it as
silk. Nor did she need it to skim
across her cheek to receive
the resuscitation of a caress
This thing called “Internet” intervened
Every e-mail cackles: I am
where no man (sic) has gone before
This thing eliminated insomnia
In the ensuing blur of meaning
she launched a message through
its black hole that compelled
poets across eight continents to
reply with agitated fingers
But she is still waiting for
the new world of new words
that would compel her to pull
the emergency rope that halts
the train she discovered herself
piloting. Yea, though there are
bodies laid across the tracks
__________
Eileen R. Tabios will release her 20th print poetry collection, SUN STIGMATAS: Sculpture Poems, in Fall 2014 from Marsh Hawk Press. She blogs at "Eileen Verbs Books" at http://eileenverbsbooks.blogspot.com; edits Galatea Resurrects, a popular poetry review journal at http://galatearesurrects.blogspot.com; and curates online projects such as "Link In To Poetry," a list of recommended contemporary poetry publications at http://linkedinpoetry.blogspot.com.