About The Stones

There must something, something

Mysterious at least about the stones,

A frozen velocity, a flight somehow

Fallen from between the wings…

 

They have a story behind them,

They’re just a bit heavier than the dry bones…

They aren’t just crushing

Those ocean waves in vain!

Somehow you feel there’s a language smoldering,

Petrified moments, forgotten pain.

 

If you are hungry enough you can speak them into bread,

They could be much more than you can think about,

You can count them twelve by twelve

And build an altar,

Or just do nothing so they can cry out…

Before The Firing Squad

Let’s run away, my darling, let’s run our days away,

This life’s a crucifixion, this planet is a cross,

Don’t speak a word this morning, don’t ever dare to say

“We’re gonna die!” don’t speak us unto loss…

Forget about the winters, forget those rocky hills,

Let’s run for hope, my darling, for our only hope,

Forget the empty freezer, forget those nasty bills,

We’ll never reach the ugly end of the rope!

There is a heaven, darling, our God is still the same,

Don’t ever mind the winters, don’t worry, don’t be sad!

But if the doors don’t open we’ll still enjoy the game

And hold our hands, my darling, before the firing squad…

Somehow About The Poem

The price of rain decreases

At the free market of poetries

Even if

The sky sends a look

Through each drop…

Even if

My leaves of paper got green

While you, poets,

Were fishing

Radioactive trout…

Look,

Even the incorruptible time loses

Some moments

From place to place.  Just

Pick them up and give them a breath

Before they become stones

(anyone knows how unuseful

the moments of stone are).

In the rest

The poem is like a silence,

Like a place from where

Someone just left…

Hmm…

It takes two

For a deep silence,

 

It takes a crowd

For a painful loneliness…

Oneness

You are the letter A, I am the digit one,

The two of us to hold the oneness alive…

The hardest way of cleaving in us is being done.

We started both with walking but ended in a dive…

We started up the journey, a rock and iron ball,

Two question marks in labor to be an exclamation!

We paid in love together the ageing heavy toll,

We sang along the ancient songs of adoration.

While being barked quite often by bulldogs of this age

No one will know how often we barked in full reply…

O, what a madding chaos surrounds us, what a rage!

Our quiet moments are shorter than a sigh…

But in the Lord, together, we’ll make it day by day,

With me the digit one and you the letter A!…

Let’s Run…

Let’s run away, my darling, let’s run our days away,

This life’s a crucifixion, this planet is a cross,

Don’t speak a word this morning, don’t ever dare to say

“We’re gonna die!” don’t speak us unto loss…

Forget about the winters, forget those rocky hills,

Let’s run for hope, my darling, for our only hope,

Forget the empty freezer, forget those nasty bills,

We’ll never reach the ugly end of the rope!

There is a heaven, darling, our God is still the same,

Don’t ever mind the winters, don’t worry, don’t be sad!

But if the doors don’t open we’ll still enjoy the game

And hold our hands, my darling, before the firing squad…

At six in the morning

Sounds of some sad steps, somewhere on the sixth floor

A lot closer, a toilet flash and a baby’s cry

Somebody just slammed a door

So that nothing may be new beneath the sky…

Sleepy walks, shy whistlers, dead traffic lights

Honking horns, sidewalks, some gone astray dew,

A street sweeper smiles as she cleans the sights

Of that old yawning moon…  the day is new…

As I walk alone, carving the streets on my palms

Smelling the fresh fumes and diesel fuel

I feel like laughing and jumping, reciting the Psalms

I wear this city, brothers, this is my jewel…

But as  I move in prayers to start the day afresh

I see the city flowing to wash away my flesh!

Are you still there

It seems like, timelessly happy, they are still there

Under the same linden tree, laughing their troubles away

Like they were here to burry those fossils everywhere

To prop the skies with the church towers, to plow the day…

I can still see their ages climbing afresh like a morning dew

Away from the trenches unleashing these hyper fairy tales

Under this shady linden tree nothing is old, nothing is new

These villagers are crossing from age to age, blazing  the  trails…

Sometimes they shepherd in their barren pastures some mysterious flocks

Sometimes they work their present from bad to even worse

Who can teach them to sing, or to throw the rocks?

They rode throughout history the same and only horse.

Who can teach them to dream through the short winter days

To carve their weddings to count their legends stone by stone,

The stars aren’t that bright, they say, nowadays…

They used to be closer together, now they shine alone…

It seems like always they are seeping their glorious wine

While sharing their timelessness under the shady linden tree.

Are you still there, sweet villagers of mine?

Don’t get your nightingales through speech therapy!

JUST BEFORE THE SUNSHINE by Slavomir Almajan

It was the day that seared all days,  with trembling rocks and frozen seas,

No order was like this before, no words were ever mute like these,

Oh, what to say, or think, or do?  Or where to find my inmost self?

Whose words are shaping and for whom, this day’s old, dusty shelf?

 

Was I to rot in cell by cell, created from the dust of dust?

Whose death is being sold today, whose birth will be the last?

Then why so many claim, before this shadow-filled sunrise,

That they are me in all of I and I am in demise?

 

You laugh, I see… Whose sigh you mock today and why?

This blue-grey hat you wear, my friend, how dare you call it sky?

This chaos that you claim it is an order of your will

Is nothing but a raging dark, an evil at stand still…

 

Then a sparrow chirped away this morning’s wake-up call…

What a blessing is to see the sunshine after all!

SLAVOMIR ALMAJAN