Why does she wait?
For what?--
In Odessa by the sea
the tenements stink of urine,
The churn of the water
kisses the rock strewn shore with spray.
Churn. Why does she wait?
In Odessa by the sea
Apollo tunes his lyre,
heartbeats;
rain & occasional sunlight,
lovers settle in the wasteland
fingers wet
with singing flesh,
the grotto moans with their weight,
from both worlds free,
enslaved to love;
Stephen says,
“this supreme quality is felt
by the artist when the esthetic quality
is first conceived in his imagination;”
picking his teeth with a wounded match
still, she will wait
bent under went sky
bruised by callous light
churned lovers
displayed
chopped off
white disarrayed
spent
august between infinities--
too much to bear,
they say being god by turns
in Odessa as the sea churns
one less wave subtracted.
In a list
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Comments
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I urinated in a tenement courtyard in Bari, Italy once which is linked to the Black Sea by the Aegean, so in a way I know the smell of churning Odessa
I do like this..it's fun to sound out and fall down the lines, grabbing images all the way.
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this reminds me of Rimbaud, when he was a little intoxicated and writing about the demise of what he saw and himself. everything is in disarray and needs to be tidy and neat
in odessa as the sea churns, we are all in Odessa somewhere in the world
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ure riting poem about teef
n thats write
but u try to figure out a women
and thats rheuterical
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this is probably MNFLP.
i like the repetition. Odessa could be any city couldn't it and a Love Grotto like Tristan and Isolde's -- a place free of the confines and demands of the "real world" could be any place two lovers meet and love.
very beautiful poem tempered with hard Truths.
I love the wounded match that he picks his teeth with -- wounded match. so good. and a fresh image.
Earth. Indeed.
xo
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Perhaps we all just wait for acceptance, to be able to live life as we see fit. There is much to ponder here as if one had to become the words and then look out from the page and see things as they really are. Acceptance and perfection, of course neither go hand in hand and maybe they never exist except in our minds.
C
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