Monday, October 30, 2017

From the Vaults: Turns, Twists; Lost Things




https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1f/Mausoleo_de_Hafez%2C_Shiraz%2C_Ir%C3%A1n%2C_2016-09-24%2C_DD_12-14_HDR.jpg

Turns, Twists; Lost Things
By Alexandra Seidel

Around the first corner--left--
you find the sylph that governs the western winds
hair and limbs spelling out abandon

the sylph--neither man nor woman--
tells you a story
and half of that is lost on the breeze

another left
and a stone found lying on the ground
plain as onyx or jade

too heavy for your pocket
but warm in your hand
--some stones hold breath or life--

Your third turn is a right
and almost finds you tumbling down a well
set like a grave into the ground

the echo haunts you as you retreat
already lost. You take
another right (which might be left)

and find a beggar, open-handed
squatting there, eyes staring empty
you part with the warm stone

and you go right again
there is a dark cup
brimming with wine

thirst makes you drink (thirst? really?)
Back again and left
scattered peacock feathers on the floor,

and the shed scales of a snake, a leopard's skin
you take the skin and take a right
warm cake awaits

fresh from the oven that you cannot see
baked by no-one, filled; you lick
warm berry juice from your fingers (berry juice? really?)

and then again you turn--right or left, no matter--
and find a bed or a bench or a throne; a hat
or a crown; more warm things

filling your stomach
and the leopard's spots on your skin
and all the walls around you softly closing in

~~~ 

This poem was first published in 2010 by Labyrinth Inhabitant Magazine which is unfortunately a dead market now. If you enjoyed the poem, do click on the woman in white to the right, she'll lead you straight to the Tip Jar. Thanks!
 

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