en   nl

previous | next

Life! Keep a weather eye on life!
In the discretion of the fern-green trees –
caught in their own sun-drenched shadows,
you can hear the voice of Robert Desnos.
Yes, I am talking about Robert Desnos.
The Robert Desnos who died from typhoid a month after
he was freed from a Nazi concentration camp.
His authentic auto-surrealist clouds had walked
into a house & hypnotized people.
His people had been slaughtered en masse.
The last three lines of ‘The Last Poem’ go,
“One hundred times more shadow than shadow,
The shadow that will come again & again
to your sun-drenched life.”
Desnos was longing for Oyuki,
who was the artist Foujita’s wife.
On an evening walk, Foujita boarded a ship
to Brazil on a whim, never to return.
Oh, you flower-sellers on street corners
Oh, you gunrunners at the borderlands
Oh, you human traffickers on the web
can you hear the voice of Robert Desnos?
It’s Monday, October 23, 2017 in Thuwana, Thingankyun, Rangoon.
They haven’t taken down the billboard that says:
“All the way to the Asia Games!”
The footballers practicing on the pitch look crestfallen.
My country is overcast. Rainy, but not raining.
Always look on the bright side of life.
On the Sand Shore
can you hear the voice of Robert Desnos?
Can you hear the concentration camps & gulags?
The voice of Robert Desnos!
Extremists, who are dyed with suffering & pickled in religion!
Can you hear the voice of Robert Desnos?
The essence of amber on adolescent breasts,
can you hear the voice of Robert Desnos?
Marvelous poems from mundane life, from life’s chemistry!
Can you hear the voice of Robert Desnos?
My mind is a fish that has jumped off
of my skull onto a motorway.
The colourful fish has turned back, its mouth –
hooked in a question mark.
Where shall I return?
What shall I slash & burn & hunt & gather?
Art will mind its own business.
It will wait crouching to jump at me from behind a bush.
Like a captain at the helm of a ship lost at sea,
my mind is only set on that woman.
I keep my hands behind my back &
whisper at the marriage of mirages at the horizon.
At the borderlines of border people
I am the original autochthon.
I am my very own ‘others’.
When I walk out of my self I turn into
a discoloured shell, flapping in the wind.
I will keep rumbling on.
I am a line edited out of a Robert Desnos’ poem.
This must be the voice of Robert Desnos.
I am Robert Desnos!
The War is over. I am heading home for you, my darling Oyuki.
We will repaint our house in all possible colours.
We will dust the sky & snuggle up in it at night.
I am heading home for you, my love Oyuki,
I am heading home for you, Oyuki my world.
Poetry International Rotterdam logo