Thursday, October 16, 2014

Novodevichy



Come through the red gate
and rendezvous with
the shade of Schnitke
at Novodevichy
where Chekhov wanders
and Chaliapin's enthroned.

There, she held a candle
and hid behind a veil.
Her train rumbled away.
A schema-monk smiled sadly,
at Novodevichy,
where the black swans breed.



Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Alexandrovsky Sad

(Alexandrovsky Gardens)

Our feet were wings
over the cobblestones.
The October rain
was a curtain, rising

upon a stage filled
by dancers, singers,
gypsies and painters,
singers and writers.

You spoke--my soul
chimed clear--
a crystal bell--
inside your eyes.

I stepped through
an avant-garde
encaustic of a door
at the new Manege.

Then fell my silence,
as false a note
as an evening star
sparkling at midday.




Zemfira - "PMML" - (Forgive me, my love)


This poem came out all wrong.

It is a perennial habit of mine to say the wrong thing, or nothing at all, at the right time.

I want to tell the last few leaves clinging to the poplars that their shimmering dance is as impressive and poignant as the most delicate pas de deux. Instead, I stare at them in stunned silence.

I neglect to express how in love I am with the daily astonishments: the sunrise, the endless plays of shadow and color, the afternoon sunshine, the sunset, the moonlight, the starlight, candlelight, lamplight, and the darkness.

I take a cool, refreshing breath, or three, or a thousand, and forget to say--thank you--

The walls of my warm house fold 'round me like a cosy cloak. A cat curls up at my feet.

Infinities of gratitude to every-one, every-where, every-thing and in every-way.

Sincerely,

Flame




Monday, October 13, 2014

Red Fez Issue 72 - and a song for you




Red Fez Issue 72

The song, from a Soviet film, is about the choices we make, how not everything is black or white. 

when trees as gilded as bees

Above the 61st parallel, the colors of Autumn mark our parting with the bees, and the last days of real warmth. I had begun to transl...

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