Don’t Hold Your Breath

I hate writing poems. But here’s one, inspired by Michele Placido’s film, Un Viaggio Chiamato Amore, A Journey of Love.

Don’t Hold Your breath.

Nothing passes
From what I peeled
And raked

Of what remains,
Clamorous
Of what is lost,
Ramifies

Immensity claims all

To hell with East and West,
Whichever first,
North or South

All directions disperse

To hell with images
Which hark and hail
Like unbidden postcards
That knock, knocking
On bolted doors

To hell with words that ring
And rankle like tinnitus;
A disease believed to infect
Those who overly listen,
Those who don’t
Erratic beats of the heart
No less

Harsher, more incorrigible men than I,
Loosen themselves in ritualized weals,
Hollow conundrums that thrash and shriek;
While I, snout in
Combobulation, breathe with this
And that, this that, that then this,
That is just bunk

So here’s what you can and should,
Again the proverbial incants,
When to add and subtract
Being clearly impasses
And letting is oh such a dastardly word
That trembles, that howls
Inside inns of feeblest breezes

What then?
Says the obstreperous of obstreperous jerks
As if Frost’s bifurcations
Dutifully bifurcate
Each stead you imitate

Still stillness, a question naught
That beggars still nonetheless

Away then distillates of distillations,
Instill mightily
Till all else apart
You depart
And I, timorously,
Irremediably, build
A part.

Jakarta, October 5, 2009

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