Friday, 7 May 2021

Two Poems by Gene Barry

 


Eventually

 

Lucy mulled over continents of infractions,

witnessing unjust juries in each vista as

she surfed on a safety net of bravery.

She pulled a blanket of succorance

around the tormenting unexplainable,

a tank of tears the fuel driving her.

 

She stepped back into the dark box,

where god’s black dressed monster

was cruelly decorating children’s futures

and exchanged turmoil for inner peace,

guilt for the gift of happiness,

self-esteem for years of torment.

 

She placed liability deep into his heart,

etched an appropriateness of guilt and regret

into his mind and replanted shame.

A tsunami of happiness etching itself

into a once broken fragmented heart as she

stepped into a peaceful cheerful future.

 

She observed a diurnal rush of joy nurse

its way into every cell and she embraced it.

Lucy felt the perfect healing she had longed for,

installed by acceptances’ retribution, while

a dissemination of isolation was scattered

into his future and a happy child was born.



Chewing her Cud

 

Without asking, he told me

that the old boat had tugged her

out to a place where the religious

fill their dreams, to where an audience

of repaired grandparents play.

 

I begged him to dismount from

the saddle of remorse he was riding,

to polish the parlour and dress each

room with favourites of flowers

and long ago visited photographs.

 

Dine with dreams I told him,

unpack the contraband,

swim in glorious memories and

reap the unseen sown by forefathers,

tend to memories borrowed from the future.

 

Standing for his first time he exhaled,

she was the bull’s red rag’,

he swallowed,

a Dante inferno and I

loved the bones of her’.

 

 

Cufundarea în gânduri

 

Fără să-l întreb, mi-a spus

că barca cea veche a dus-o

în locul cu care credincioșii

își umplu visurile, acolo unde strămoșii

sunt tămăduiți și se joacă 

 

L-am implorat să coboare

de pe spinarea căinței, pe care călărea

să dea lustru casei și să îmbrace

fiecare cameră cu florile ei preferate

și cu fotografii ce n-au mai fost privite de mult timp

 

Ia cina împreună cu visurile, i-am spus

despachetează sentimentele de contrabandă

scufundă-te în amintirile minunate și

culege cele nevăzute, sădite de străbuni

ai grijă de amintirile luate cu împrumut din viitor

 

Ridicându-se în picioare pentru prima oară, a dat drumul la cuvinte

”ea a fost capa roșie din fața taurului”

a înghițit

”un infern al lui Dante

dar am iubit-o dincolo de oase”.

 

Gene Barry - Irish Poet, Art Therapist, Counsellor, Hypnotherapist and Psychotherapist. 

 

No comments:

Post a Comment