EUGENIA MACER-STORY
Poems
Odessa
Cafe
When sun’s light shuts off computer window
Or lightning folds the house in soft electric
Fog of thin light, plans of the past
Do not necessarily go “auto-future”.
I’d thought to glimpse back to meet you
But in the remodeled café, no time window
Permits. Must be papered up more than formica deep.
New menu glossy with pre-printed choices
I choose “today’s special” lettered on index card
Scope young couple next booth arguing over “Dutch
Treat”
Recall you ordered trout in a clean sport shirt
Today I ordered salmon. This was where you said;
“I saw you sitting over there in a different coat.”
Pointing to nowhere, an empty table
& I knew you were mad or really time-tripping
Today here in a different coat, I sit
Looking for the time window but maybe
It’s a one way view.
Luckily I don’t see into the dingy past here
They have removed the empty spaces
& framed certificates and menus hang
On the fourth wall of the glass-sided vestibule
But just as I feel I may have bent time trip
Into some fake magic peek-a-boo window
A stranger in a clean sports shirt
Ordering in the booth behind me
Tells the waiter I have propositioned him
But he has no time for that stuff today
Because he lives in Brooklyn and it is raining.
Bastille Day 2012
Invisible fireworks over the roof
Dull celebratory explosions
Above my sleep or over on side street
Elusive airbursts: perhaps gunfire
As when I heard the “rat tat” in a coffee shop
Touring up Greek mountains toward Delphi
& jumped up from the table, sighting the yard
Perhaps with the reflexes of a ghost picnicking
With tourists now & into the future: causeways
& the credit collapsed amid gunfire
Outside the ancient treasury house & with shouts
Rooted somehow within the fiery small suns
Extra above dark mountain stone
“Fitna”: 9/11 X 2”
No words rise in the silent heart
Quiet crucible of anger
Only photos of fire starters
& the mad, recorded screams of innocent
Raiders beneath fresh, pre-fab black banners
Handed out hawalah by Soul Bankers.
1000 years gone, we’ve lost the wick’s thread
Forgetting to follow the flame’s advice
Amid electrical delusions magnifying loss
Into pixilated nothing: melting lens of ice
Scraped from the unplugged freezer of a looted café
Destroying what we seldom enjoy
Too quickly at the burning inner moment:
Raiders beneath fresh, pre-fab black banners
Handed out hawalah by Soul Bankers.
Some mumble in the underbrush
About the secret source of conquest,
Holy forgeries within the neck
Of the microphone impersonating prophesy
As the ancient emergencies die, smoldering dark
before the new moon emerges,
Crescent/s fragile light, alone in the sky:
Antique pendant clean from jeweler’s cleansing acid
Hangs sparkling, brilliant as if no soot emerges
From beyond the moon’s control becoming new
Raiders beneath fresh, pre-fab black banners
Handed out hawalah by Soul Bankers.
As sorrow rises in the silent heart
The real prophesies from the candle flame
Lie on the littered streets
Invisible beneath cartoon pamphlets
Burning only thick smoke upward,
A screen against the moon,
Against the clear voice of the stars
Speaking cold silence above Soul Bankers
Urgent tabulation of how many innocents
Kindle certain fire from the old wick’s thread
Forgetting to follow the flame’s advice.
Until fire manikin pulses in the usual bed
Reminding that radioactive stone at magnified depth
Comes close through air’s watery lens
Shining through windows upon the cell phoney’s head
A rag doll of no substance flaming as faked ancient signs
Becoming “real” as real be “strange”
Raiders beneath fresh, pre-fab black banners
Handed out hawalah by Soul Bankers.
Crates of black flag supplies from the unknown donor
Quickly changing into fiery vestments of terror
* Fitna (also fitnah or fitnat) is an Arabic word with connotations of
secession, upheaval, and chaos. It is widely used in Arabic daily
language as an adjective which refers to "causing problems between
people" or attempting to create a chaotic situation that tests one's
faith. The exact translation of this word is often ambiguous for
non-Arabic speakers. The word fitna also has several similarities with
the idea of tribulation in Christian belief.
Eugenia
Macer-Story is a poet-playwright and visual artist whose work has been
published and exhibited internationally. Her poetry chapbooks have been
part of the Poets House poetry publication showcase for a number
of years. She also writes books on the supernatural and IFO experiences
and her articles on the supernatural have been published in UFOs and
Supernatural magazine and UFO magazine. A detailed CV is available at
http://e-macer-story.com and her email is e.macer-story@att.net
|