Saturday, 9 July 2022

Five Poems by Susanna Peremartoni

 


 

Indirection



Blurring shadows on the wiper,

thoughts soaked in raindrops.

Grey experiences

in the spotlight.

At the red light

soaked umbrellas

in puddles.

Neon-bright sale left

our lives.

The ambulance siren

throbbing in your ear.

You would brake, but already

you’re going elsewhere.

In your thoughts

the silence froze.

Your hand grasps

the steering wheel

of the car,

motion picture

became the present.




In my mind



I'm painting you.

You're lying naked.

Rays of the waking sun

are brushing across your skin

and playing a foolish game

on your sanity hairs,

sticking straight up

now as ever,

like blades of grass

on a bloom-kissed meadow.

Angels of light and shadow are

lining your lusty essence,

sending shivers up the spine

of my drawing self,

while my brush is smoothing

your masculinity and your present

on to the paper

in my mind.




The green depth



Walking dusty roads,

in the rubbed folds

of my shoes

I’m looking for someone

who invited me

on the trip.

I admire silently

the green depths

of nature, lurking deep

in the shadows

of the bamboo forest,

and in a smooth sequence

I keep concurring with

the amazing wonders

of my journey

on the narrow paving

of a Shinto sanctum.

Deep silence blankets

the darkness,

and I embrace only

the present on the path

of my thoughts,

in the village of the last samurai,

overwhelmed

by an ancient sensation,

I might have hidden

in myself already

for ages.




Bad news



Sunshine bestrode the

wind, then romped

together with a cat.



In the mask of a rambling shaft

it went on, making its way

through the army of bathers.



Taking off from

the left corner of lens of a glass,

it jumped on the Cyrillic letters

of articles in the newspaper

of a Russian tourist,

and took rest there

as a colour scale, until

caught by the paper folded

with a rapid movement

to the gloomy bottom of a beach-bag

it was confined.




A memory



If we could all

be together now

on this winter day,

wrapped in the

scent of brioche,

with our tears unshed,

the soft touch

of tiny hands

would kiss

the rough texture

of rigid bones.

We would be filled with

the hot, throbbing pulse

of some defiant emotion

that glistens softly

in our dim eyes

on our final hour.

Distress and hope

that something may remain,

a piece of our soul,

and like a tear drop

fall behind the veil of memories.



At the touch of a cold hand

you return to the present,

and a soft prayer sails above,

as the feathers and the scent of brioche

vanish into the mist.





Susanna Peremartoni - currently lives in Budapest, Hungary. She wrote her first poems at the age of 16. At the age of 23 she lived and worked in Germany as a ceramic assistant. Exhibited in Helsinki, Vienna. Her first volume was published in 2016, followed by four more volumes of poetry. In 2018, she was the producer of a jazz poetry CD release. The English version is also known in Vancuover, Canada and Reykjavik,  Iceland. She has been published in Hungarian literary journals, Canadian and American online magazines. From September 2020 she will be listed in the USA as a next-generation beat poet.  Her own CD was released in February 2021 in memory of Australian poetess Judith Wright. Poems with a didgeridoo accompaniment. She also had  photo exhibitions in 2020/2021/2022 in Budapest.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Three Poems by Mary Anna Scenga Kruch

  Return to the Sea   The car wove seamlessly through coastal roads carved into the Lattari Mountains toward the Amalfi Coast and when the f...