Saturday 3 April 2021

Four Poems by Paul Koniecki


 


the risk of love 

is more love 

 

 

hate is a globularia 

hate is mass amorphous 

ever growing golden ratio 

worshipping henna spiralled shells 

and disembodied hands holding 

hands in a plato-deprived

cave in the dark

 

growing distaff of hurricane 

spun window tape the 

world is light bent 

and warbling to bits 

torrent of chance chances 

puzzle on the floor 

love is small and 

breaking off that's it 

love is missing piece small


 

 

even(ing)

 

when in every dream 

i am william cutting 

five points bill the 

butcher cursing or fighting 

 

american eagle false eye 

controlling every other move

like a star trek 

ceti eel larvae and 

 

i wish daniel crocker 

was here to put 

it (all) in a poem 

and save me between 

 

fits of lost control 

panic mania hurricane eyelids

man's inhumanity to sleep

and again to man



 

what can you say happiness 

when life is so hard 

 

 

today i saw a bright 

green and yellow moth i 

would have written chartreuse or 

strega filled waterford stemware and

gone back to habits but 

 

i am trying frantically to 

leave the writer at home 

out of this poem forever

and not lie about the 

orange brown glow of ancient 

 

forests i have never seen

what can you say to 

our pain the stars the

moon the sun so abstract

and pilloried here yet each

 

pulls on our blood dragging 

tracers of light stretching time

and space bending the sky 

like blue marbles waffle cones

your favourite gelato a scoop

 

of a lost friend's delicately 

attenuated voice waiting on the 

last moment to call breaking 

the longest minute in the 

centre of the darkest hour 

 

of your life i am 

also maybe a suffocating thing

to see that and activate 

chance you must be here 

bright as a song bright 

 

as a pink flower bright 

as a finger raised and 

wagging against the last bully

bright torch perilously lit 

malachite butterfly after dusk what 

 

can i say to you/happiness 

today, i can say i am 

 

 

 

"Gabriel's Horn is a geometric figure which has infinite surface area but finite volume" 

 

reach me


 

there is perfect 

sex in the 

bubble surrounding two 

people the moment 

before they touch

when only imagination 

has felt the 

unevenness of begun 

first by flattened

hand or finger

tip blue note

the room is

emptying for you

hint at rushing 

hint at sojourn 

hint at hint 

so obvious a 

parable could see 

the uselessness in 

heaven's only paper 

clouds you shudder 

gabriel the horn




Paul Koniecki lives and writes in Dallas, Texas. He was once chosen for the John Ashbery Home School Residency. His poems feature in Richard Bailey’s movie “One of the Rough” distributed by AVIFF Cannes. His books are available from Kleft Jaw Press, Night Ballet Press, Dark Particle Press, and Spartan Press. Paul proudly sits on the editorial board of Thimble Literary Magazine.

 

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