Said the Poem to the Poet

A sparrow was flying by the river bank
When she looked down
And saw that a fish had been swimming
Along with her in the water.

The fish too, noticing her for quite
Some time now, yelled out;
O sparrow!
We are so similar in our love for freedom
And our sense of adventure.
But while you roam the heavens,
And play with clouds,
I wade the waters,
And frolic with bubbles.

The sparrow replied;
Yes, you’re right.
We can never be with each other;
If I come join you,
I will drown.
If you come up to meet me,
You will suffocate.

This is terrible, said the fish,
I want to know you.
I want to know you too,
Replied the sparrow,
But shall we choose death
Over a beautiful story?

The fish swam in a couple of circles
And the sparrow stopped to rest on a branch.

Finally, the fish said, either way,
It’s a beautiful story; almost human,
Almost love.

How about this? Dear sparrow,
Let us part in opposite directions
And if some day we find ourselves
Being air and water companions again,
We will know what the ending should be.
The sparrow agreed and thus they parted.

Three years later,
When a great storm swept through
Where the sparrow was flying,
She lost control and veered
Straight into the glass
Window of a nice high-rise condo.
Before she fell to her death
Into a river below,
She looked inside the room.

A family was having dinner
And on their plates,
Lay the same fish she had
Thought about all this time.

Ah! She exclaimed as she fell,
Fish! It is not beautiful at all,
These humans are not beautiful
At all!

©hRj 2007

Graspings #3

These days
I have often felt the wild crushing
Of a blue Whale
Of what I didn’t tell you
These baubles that never come.

“We’ll wait for them,”
You told me in some dream,
When I sent forth silence into your cup.

Don’t you know, Whale,
Of silly superstitions?
“Orpheus you turned to look at me…”

But these days of patience and gaze
Are now gone.
Time has started sticking
Like barnacles on your belly.
Your children are bountiful
You smile of years.

We will crush, Whale,
We will crush the mighty ocean with our longing.

And I won’t ask you,
Won’t ask at all,
Because summers have never been lovelier
Than in memories,

Than etched in skin.

©hRj2007


Graspings #3 Ver.2

These days,
You Goddamn Whale,
Fucking junkie Wail!
I have kept the cat in the bag,
Securely knotted. And all you do
Is tongue, tongue against
My cheek.

“We’ll wait for it”
You told me in some dream,
And will you? I asked, I plead
On my knees. Silence is Overrated.
A blood clot
Of my condition.
Deep vein thrombosis is
Overrated.

Don’t you know, you turtle faced Whale,
Of womanly superstitions?
“Orpheus, you dumb motherfucker…”

And these days of patience and gay
Are now gone,
Time has started sticking
Like the cum on your leg
After climax.
But now that you have children
From your philandering ways,
You will always smell like yearning,
Smile like penetration.

We will crush, Whale,
We will crush the mighty ocean with our psychosis.

And I won’t ask you,
Won’t ask myself at all,
Because the cat’s struggles
Have never scratched deeper
Than in the bag,

In its air-tight bag.

©hRj2007

I play I play