Two Poems by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

 

humanity 

 

cut from the same cloth 

bolt   of material flesh 

jolt    of spiritual lightning 

flashes of the familiar 

the fabric of our wrinkled lives  

rolled out before us  

texture of feeling 

colour of blood   

grief ribboned with joy 

 

patterns emerged 

flowered tapestries  

bordered  

by imprints of past generations 

shadowy ghosts 

wonder   courage   fear  

landscape of regret 

the stain of sin 

cloaked  

in stiff brocaded silence 

 

the deafening unknown 

that wrapped itself around us 

like delicate transparent skin  

mummies bandaged in some ancient tomb 

unravelled by yet another century   

 

sometimes we hid  

under the hood   or in the sleeves  

of polished cotton   comfortable corduroy 

blue jean babies  

fastened  

in fashionable silks and satins 

sometimes we mourned 

the missing    the dead 

that left a hole in the weave 

that one we couldn’t mend 

like the hole in our hearts 

but always                                                

we wore the threads 

day in   and   day out 

of frayed and fading memory 

memory that would one day  

wear us up   and   wear us down   

until we departed   as once we arrived 

cold    forgetful   shivering          

 

naked   and blue 

under   it    all

Til Suddenly 

 

Alone in my room 

my thoughts out of tune 

my memory spent 

I can’t pay the rent 

My spoken words  broken 

I   a mere token 

of what we call life 

 

I live week to week 

off that old refrain 

Poor me poor me 

threadbare  unravelled 

untraveled 

tattered   torn 

(I’m going insane) 

I’m skint I'm scant  

I rage  i rant 

for being born 

 

Fading dreams   

worn-out schemes 

All is not what it seems 

Whatcanisay? 

There are no words  

for the hole in my pocket 

the hole in my soul 

the give and take of  

night and day 

the all of nothing 

the nothing of all  

that's taken its toll 

 

I’m skint  I'm scant 

I rage  i rant  

I can’t recant gone yesterdays 

Poor me poor me 

a  penniless pauper   

unseen    a mere being 

running on empty  

nothing to tempt me  

pre-empt me  

til  

 

suddenly  

from my tiny window  

comes 

the immense feeling 

of a star falling through 

the miracle of healing 

the light i once knew 

 

Why is it only  

now that i recall 

this one shining moment    

out of sight 

How to hold onto  

the stroke of midnight 

this second of September 

the dust that transcends  

Where to begin? 

How does it end? 

 

Why is it only when  

i am without 

that i remember   

stars lit from within   

are blessed from above  

How to hold onto 

all that we are  

all that we have 

when all that there is 

Is love  is love 

Antonia Alexandra Klimenko was first introduced on the BBC and to the literary world by the legendary James Meary Tambimuttu of Poetry London–-publisher of T.S. Eliot, Dylan Thomas, Henry Miller and Bob Dylan, to name a few.  his death, it was his friend, the late great Kathleen Raine, who took an interest in her writing and encouraged her to publish.  A nominee for the Pushcart Prize, The Best of the Net, and a former San Francisco Poetry Slam Champion, she is widely published. Her work has appeared in (among others) XXI Century World Literature (which she represents France) and Maintenant : Journal of Contemporary Dada Writing and Art archived at New York’s Museum of Modern Art. She is the recipient of two grants: one from Poets in Need, of which Michael (100 Thousand Poets for Change) Rothenberg is a co-founder; the second—the 2018 Generosity Award bestowed on her by Kathleen Spivack and Joseph Murray for her outstanding service to international writers through SpokenWord Paris where she is Writer/ Poet in Residence.  Her selected poems On the Way to Invisible was recently published by The Opiate Books and is now available.