["I want to sleep the dream of the apples,
to withdraw from the tumult of cemeteries
I want to sleep the dream of that child
who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas."
-Federico Garcia-Lorca]
a piano piece:
a piano piece:
of the child who wanted to cut his heart
on Poetry of the child with the silvery
voice inlaid as if into jeweled light- then
voice inlaid as if into jeweled light- then
fretted into diamonds continually; the child
set like a jewel on green velvet, set like a jewel;
like starlight scissored out of the skies by prescient children
for a keepsake. Mama? see?
and far away and here (in both Castles), simultaneously
murmurs the child who was cut, who was cut like moonlight
out of nocturnes endlessly and from the matinees.
lamented, pedaled over now in the phrasing there is
a silence like snow;
far off, like lunar song.
and in the gardens of the kings not so mysteriously
disappearing so that who can recount the wrong
disappearing so that who can recount the wrong
even the roses know and whisper through clouded nights:
there is no more music like this.
and the trees on green velvet sobbing diamonds suddenly
for the breezes too young to know the voice
they will carry now
nunca mas
nunca mas
and the cut carnations in the vases of the Princess
forming no fit bouquets. all is listless
as the olive winds tossing the fevered ship,
no longer.
mary angela douglas 28 june 2014;rev. 21 april 2015;27 may 2019
