L'INCONNUE DE LA SEINE
Publicado por Jo Ruiz en 4:35
SEIJAKU
Standing at the revolving belt
of a Japanese buffet
he picked out a teriyaki bowl.
Soon the bowl is empty soon
full of gleaming tears. A tiger-moth
flitting over the gleam.
A mug of coffee steamed up
the windows of his mutism
where suddenly someone smiled.
Someone who loved him the most
but never existed.
©Osara New York
Publicado por Jo Ruiz en 8:40
SUMMER LOVE
A trysting couple
about to kiss each other
by an opalized light of June
bathing the seaside promenade.
Van dwellers dance to a gypsy
accordion like dogs barking
around a bonfire.
The sea hushed and aglitter.
A solitary poet at a pub bench sips
a glass of frothing Guinness
and waxes lyrics on a serviette
about the couple the squeezebox.
The moon waxing full
over the twilighted promenade
regardless the sigh-lorn poet
and the lovers now parting
gloomy without a word.
In a red and white puppet booth
Judy takes a swipe at Punch.
The van dwellers still dance wildly
under the spell of gypsy tunes.
©Aric S. Queen
Publicado por Jo Ruiz en 5:38
POEM
Just now the sun proffers to me
a glass of elderberry wine.
Then a glass of mead.
I shut the eyes and sip.
I open the eyes: the world ain't there anymore,
not even my books and the sea.
Circe and Helen smirked
staring at my solitude.
I bit a golden apple.
And the vast Time gets distorted
and dwindles
to become a blade of grass.
Time small as a pebble.
Publicado por Jo Ruiz en 11:57
MELAMPYGE
Once upon a time there was
a tabby cat called Melampyge
(so named after Casanova's dog)
he was the only deceased
when the San Marco's campanile
was doomed to collapse in 1902
Last night I dreamt myself petting
Its harlequin-fur at sunset just before
the tragedy came across la Serenissima
Rilke the poet -a black Homburg in hand-
was walking past me at a seraphic pace.
He whispered with a broad smile his last elegy
to some kind of elegant Comtesse
attired in blue organza and yellow gloves
Both blended slowly into the foggy backstreets.
Melampyge (podgy but nimble)
with tigerish paws
followed their ambling shadows
that scent the canals with violet hues.
I followed Melampyge toward the hidden
alleys off the beaten paths in Dorsoduro.
Suddenly Rilke looked back
and frosted his countenance
with exactly the same blue eyes
of the cat glinting at me
just before running away
rightwards la Piazza San Marco...
Publicado por Jo Ruiz en 5:23
TITANIC'S COAL STOKERS
What were they singing the Titanic's coal stokers?
What did they choir along in the steam engine
while shoveling coal on end amid screams,
expletives and sailor jokes?
What were they humming larksome soaked
in rills of sweat, ale and eating beef stew, plum
pudding like ravenous gannets?
Were they guided finally by Virgil as a lodestar
while walking through the last and eternal
flames of their lives?
What did they ever sing somewhere
in the waiting room to the other side
through the pearly gates?
I hear their hobnail boots tapping
a rag-time on the flooded floor.
Publicado por Jo Ruiz en 12:49
REPARTO SUEÑO, 1975
A child is
(still not an exile
not a failed bard not
a kind of eternal castaway)
skipping ropes at sunset
in his native home patch
called Sueño
Reparto Sueño
a child
collecting silver caps
of milk bottles earthworms
blue marbles pick-up sticks
like coins to pay for daydreaming..
another kid in the shade
of a flowering mango tree
still expects his father
from a far-off war
like a dog mourning
its master by his grave
A red sun hangs
on the sea-scented horizon
glittering like a goldfish
in a plastic bag.
Publicado por Jo Ruiz en 10:34
