Night letters #25, 26 Y, Z

why night letters, you ask

I wrote them for you

the one who laughs

for you

the one who mourns

for you

the one who loves

for you

the jealous

and I wrote them

for you, woman cocooned

in folds of blue silk, double-edged

burkha

and for you

the one who hates

and for you

and you 

and you

who just likes 

to read a lifetime

in three simple lines

I write my night letters

tired into late May,

but now I have to leave

you, my words

all, to catch a plane

head out into the wilds

of army and my brain

on overdrive trying to collect

the road to war

in tiny laser raindrops 

goodnight friends, readers

goodnight....

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

that's me for 2009... sorry I couldn't contribute more thoughtful comments, more thoughtful work this year, but most of you know where I am/where I'm going, and juggling home, war and writing is a very tricky thing

best,

sms

night letters #25 X

exile

never to belong

again, to home, 

to him

night letters #24 w

wild cards

no one knows which way this'll go

how he'll be next time 

he sees her, or she him;

ace of diamonds, king of hearts?

a mitt full of jokers, 

now that would be a laugh;

will she club him with her beauty?

will he no-trump her

with ambivalence?

 

and what about that queen of spades, 

what cards does she have left to play

that whining, fucking bitch?

night letters #23 V

veil

indigo folds, view the world 

through filigree, I not an I,

me not a me, we just are,

a shadow we; tickle tockle

clock clock over dry stone,

over dry muck streets;

still, I caught you looking-

we have great shoes,

we have great feet-

don't we?

night letters #22 U

unformed

despair (there it is again) hiding within the smoke of lilacs, unexpected in late May, when I saw you today, cross the road, enter the store, your dark curls so shiny, your skin so porcelaine (it really is) you've thinned a bit, still, look gorgeous, fit, I followed, ran actually, could not breathe to see you, again, oh my God, it's all been some horrible mistake, these past two years, and it's such a hot, sunny day, your name on my lips, a perfect day to find you, can't wait to phone your father tell him, you're alive, C... I begin,  but it's someone else's daughter, who turns around.

night letters #21 T

tank or terror or tangerine

I pick 

tangerine,

orange earring, sweet

fruit, sweet juice

delicious as spring,

late May on the prairie,

far from tanks,

far from terror,

far from everything

that hurts,

I taste,

drink,

eat

you,

piece-by-piece,

tangerine.

night letters #20 S

sure she's your friend, 

she cooks dinner,

plays tennis, 

watches movies,

swims, 

drinks my best with you,

helps with my kids,

I'm grateful,

all women need wives,

especially when they work 

out of town,

but would you mind

asking if next time

she wouldn't leave her hairdresser's card

under my bed, 

or her kimono

lying around?

night letters #19 R

if metal rain caused blossoms

then desert birds would sing

again

night Letters #18 Q

ق

qaf

the beginning of pen;

write a letter, 

write a letter to her, 

write a letter to him;  

write rings of mountains, 

write lapus,  

write poppies in bloom;  

write the four chambers, 

your aorta, 

write veins, write blood;  

write rose petals,  

pomegranate,  

write black storks’ return;  

write all of it, 

write sand, worry, 

celebration;  

write despair.

night Letters #17 P

phosphorus

white phosphorus

flashing night sky,

in the desert wild dogs'

pupils wide,

burnt brilliance of metal, 

of chemical,

while children lie

a thousand years sleeping

for roses,  for pomegranates,

for black storks to arrive.

night Letters #16 O

oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no...

I read your words this morning,

two years have almost passed;

could you not have foreseen?

it was all there in every word you wrote: 

the foundering; the hurricane; 

the broken ship;

you, slipped from our harbour.

I read your words,

this endless mourning.

night Letters #15 N

night words

for you to keep

secret, hidden little a's

to z's, just like the box

grandpa buried beneath the seat

of his '39 Ford, filled

with french letters.

night Letters #14 M

maybe 

you will read my night letters

between the lines, that the willow

will still be there next time

I walk your fields, only then

it will have leafed, softened

into a not so secret place,

only then it will have opened,

finally it will be mine.

Night Letters #13 L

lazy words

lust, light, 

love (the laziest of all)

won't appear

in these letters.

"liar",

he says.

night letters #12 K

 

Kalium

 

القَلْيَه‎   (al-qalyah)

 

 

scatter new furrows

let last winter’s ashes grieve

a minute, an hour, a few days—

this is proper—

then fill your hands

seed the generous land with

your wheat, her/your/ body bare feet,

the snow has receded, the rose hips bright,

spring turns the fertile earth, 

listen to it, listen to it,

when she comes.

Night Letters #11 J

          . _ _ _

 

 

he built a tower

lasoo’ed air above the house with wire,

late at night, netted all the dying words he could—

rare butterflies, moths, bats of dots and dashes

over and out, over and out, his eardrums hammered

with static and little pleas from old, lonely, men

spread across the blue planet.

“I’m going to bed, wake me when you come,”

 “Juliet Out," she said.

 

he looked up, half-smile, eyes windowed,

his index finger kept on tapping.

Night Letters #10 I

Illuminate

 

from latin

illūminātus m (feminine illūmināta, neuter illūminātum); first/second declension

illuminated, brightened, having been illuminated.

adorned, having been adorned.

having been made conspicuous.

wear this, wear it,

you have been adorned

by it, you have been made

by it, you are illuminated; 

night work, lamp work,

fields turned by our four seasons,

hands filled with black-earth-work,

hands filled with clear-white-bright-work,

hands filled with black-fountain-pen-white-paper-work;

first wisp of pussy willow you pick,

offer me, I, then to your lips;

and night, moth caught in silver, in flame,

in mirrors’ frames; conspicuous;

wear this, wear it,

you have been adorned

by it, you have been made,

illuminated.

 

 

Night Letters #9 H

Hurricanes

 

·      clear old, diseased, dead or weak trees, renew forest ecosystems

·      redistribute excess energy from hot tropical latitudes to cold

·      recharge aquifers, end years’ long droughts

·      clear sediment, clogged river deltas, rejuvenate coastlines

·      break up toxic algal blooms, ‘detox’ the ocean

·      stir up the ‘dead’ water at the ocean’s bottom

·      bring torrents of fresh water, replenish crops

 

(hurricanes =  new life)

 

source: NASA, NOAA, 2009

 

 

Hurricane, he calls her— a force, a nature—

 with lips, body, fingertips, she opens, touches his fields,

bends, stirs his earth, makes his land unrecognizable;

 

and sometimes he shutters himself, latches and keys himself,

battens down, heads for the storm cellar when she comes;

 

and sometimes he throws his windows open wide, 

his ice-blue eyes thaw just for her,

mirror for her alone the dark and light of him,

because somewhere he trusts, knows:

 

she is wind,

she is tide,

she is north, south, east, west, 

his earth,

 

breath born long before both he and she were conceived

in the shelter, the cradle, the hopper of their mothers' flesh

 

and she brings mercy, new life, for him the warm current,

the warm fire, food, the other half, for him, and him alone,

and sometimes it frightens,

but his land, his body, his life, they know, call out for her 

sure and steady, return,

again and again and again.

Night letters #8

G



is for





gold





white, light I saw

long before your

wintered field,

the worried earth,

my wearing war,

long before, yes,

long before field

and earth and war,

our birth, our golden

birth, I saw it

gold and white,

the light, I saw,

the light, the gold

of light, of you.

Night letters #7

F



is for



fear





I’m afraid,

did you hear?



this war

coming

nearer & near,



I, three steps

away,



and you, your ear

cocked only

for what’s coming

up your drive,

crunch of gravel,

door flung open,

mad footsteps across your hardwood floor.



you lock your door.



but I’m afraid

not of her,



but of this,

my steps,

to war.