Friday 27 August 2010

Christ the Saviour

The metal detector--
I'm confused about the nature
of Holy ground
God looks sternly down in a swirl of
blues and souls and rose-winged
angels

And I hope you're behind the iconostasis
I wish you'd come out
Gold and marble seems to tie you to
the earth the stories--
Baptism--blessing--I mount the
heights ascension pentecost but
when I reach the top my heart
falls infinity has a limit and
I sink down to the catacombs
Truly the artist's brush is full of
your kavod or was he a proud
cocky womanizer , a rich empty philosophizer,
Or a doubting saint hoping the tips of his
brush would touch the God beyond
domed ceiling

They keep you behind a wall of gold--
I think I'd be a communist too--
I can't see the man behind the
curtain I want to
However, Holies, I try to cross
myself best keep that wall between
you and me
I'd be burnt up

Я не могу видеть здесь,
Am at once humbled and rebellious
cynical and hopeful
You would never want me on that throne
My shit has no place there's no
room for me in those rose-blinding
rays and while the baby king might
show mercy instead of caprice
stern papa would shake his head for
pestering the baby
til he cries
nails tickling through his flesh in the
emptiness

Decorated with such deliberate masks of Russian
greatness, of human ambition
artistic strength
Lord Jesus Christ
Son of God,
have mercy on me,
a sinner
i can't see through the glass
and the pittering of my folly heart at
at the girl walking past i'm just tired
yes, it must be i'm tired
When I wake up promise you'll come back?
the accidental brush of my lips on her
cheek and that's for painting
this dull ache of white light in the heavens
I want to feel today--I know I need
You Я не видел тебя эта
неделья but you showed up in
miraculous ways I think
I lack the heart or sleep to
truly see abre mis ojos
mi corazón my fog eyes died
in the overcast mind I've concocted
in the sin of a double-bind
post-modern doubting super-christian
what's left to prove but
everything, everything i
chase everything but You
cambiame guiame breathe
i wanna see i wanna say
that light is G-D (and not
the breaker box)

Wednesday 25 August 2010

Cottonwood Snow

Steady pins of poplars holding up
water sky slurred blue raspberries
and cotton balls of cottonwoods
floating like falling snow on
Moscow woke up
in another world.

Monday 16 August 2010

Strawberry Wednesday

Hello?
Excuse me,
yes.
I would like

a Strawberry Wednesday


with extra marshmallow creme
    on the clouds
A layer-cake sky
    to carry with me.

To split.

Saturday 7 August 2010

English Ivy

Tendrils twisting leviathan
The sun never sets and just keeps
growing to
Wherever yon set your grimy
shoots soon you take roots
Tsunami the pansies, the tulips tremble
with the other coloured folks in the garden
Twisting round python
She's got snakes in your ears
Sucking life out of the earth
and the coffers and the souls
All in the name of stately pay
And civilizing grace

And wot's this upstart away
cross the pond?
Another ivy plays its invisible hand
at the wand
We're regular thugs but our buttons
will outshine the sun
Gold amassed and we'll
take yours neighbor
We always need just a little more
Reaching empires reaching battle
The vines in the pool, they're up on the roof,
and unless you want to tear everything out
the ivy will not be gone soon

So,
make your whites
walk the plank
Reposses the lands for the poor
We'll be back soon you see
With our loans and our firms and our
cash and our words technology you
cannot escape, we've got all the
cards,
And you've planted our words in your hearts
when you bought your medusa tvs

You see with the eyes of the butler
in but outside
English Ivy Bourgeoise

We could burn down the house like the русскиs
But I don't think it'd change anything

Oh Ivy, how can we be changed?