The Anticlimactic End of the World
God uses special effects and excessive pyrotechnics,
a mute speaks, sweet-voiced,
upon regaining speech
and a sense of humour.
Everyone in the room is awed
left trembling and sweat drenched.
It’s a precursor to the most transcendent night,
an elderly hunchback declares,
the hump dissolving into ramrod straightness.
Prestidigitation will become commonplace,
a former stutterer slips into eloquence,
greeted by applause like legendary thunder
even a hint of legendary lightning and divination.
Three in the room grip camcorders
ready to capture the unfathomable
then the three swell to thirty
to three hundred to three thousand
soon an excited sea of camcorders
attempting to outwit the incomprehensible.
Will all this be on the morning, evening, or night-time news?
I wonder, silent in my confusion.
This is a lousy movie with sloppy dialogue,
a blind cynic grumbles, retching out metaphor,
then screams in mid-sentence, I can see,
and looks at the delicate feet
of the most beautiful sinner in the room.
This room, spacious beyond measurement,
populated like a history of forgotten parades,
I inadvertently entered, haphazard condemnation,
sat at the very back, seeing all the deformities
and infirmities and worn-out dreams.
One by one
slowly and consecutively
things are resolved, errors undone, wounds healed
even belligerency is soothed.
It is miraculous, the youngest in the room says,
a recent wrist slash now a soft decoration.
It is glorious, the oldest in the room says,
long-memoried scars turning smooth.
I know it’s the end
but I’m not letting anyone in on the secret
the one-liners are just too sanctified
and I have nowhere else to go.
It Saddens Me They Put You in This Nameless Room
When did you banish
your imaginary lovers
and imaginary rescuers
you now hiding alone
without companions
or saviours?
Are you that brave now
suddenly self-reliant and self-contained
so certain of your voice’s
strength to reach in directions
and distances beyond sight?
When did you stop confusing
the past with the present
confessing to them both
with equal abandon
and claiming the future
for your own?
And when did you learn to fly?
Before my very eyes yet
the ceilings we both know
are not that high in this room
your wings, I must say,
are more impressive
than any I have ever seen.
Mystified
All of history, all of time
all or nothing,
words spoken
in the faint darkness of the forest
from hidden-downward flora
or crouched-away fauna
I’m not sure
not that I can properly translate
either the words of flora or fauna
(I have been pondering the languages
of flora and fauna
and have come up mystified)
I keep listening
might as well
I am misplaced in the forest
the faint darkness edging toward full darkness
and I doubt if help is on the way
not that I would know what to say to a rescue party
maybe I could repeat the forest sounds
all of history, all of time,
all or nothing,
deal with the perplexed looks
the second thoughts
about this rescue of me
I could display my inability
for somersaulting or speechmaking
or enumerating lives lost and found
speak eloquently about a kinship
with flora and fauna
and see if anyone believes me.
Life on Another Planet
A man with a face so mysterious
in its contours and overpowering beauty
it made both women and men
wonder about the prospect of love
a decent man but seemingly without a history
worth mentioning, an undisturbed past,
who sat cross-legged on his lawn
in an unexpected light snowfall of late autumn
and waited “for their words of instruction”
that, at least, is what he said to neighbours
forward enough to touch his shoulder
and ask why he was sitting cross-legged
in an unexpected light snowfall of late autumn.
The house was sold during a cold winter’s day
and before the spring thaw
a new family moved in
too thin wife, three sad-eyed children,
and a husband whose face
was misshapen but as mysterious
as the man’s whose face of overpowering beauty
made both women and men
wonder about the prospect of love
and who is now part of the neighbourhood lore
as having sat cross-legged on his lawn
until he received urgent words of instruction
and vanished like the passing of autumn.
Foretelling
There, on the second wooden step,
the one with the misshapen sides,
is an envelope with your name
and nickname from the old days
and the words in block letters
larger than your name or nickname:
WHAT YOU WILL NOT ACCOMPLISH.
You start to open the envelope
but hesitate in a shudder of reconsideration
tomorrow or a thousand tomorrows away
or even as you hold the envelope
you need to know if it will rain in the morning
not what dreams of yours will fade with time.
Suddenly, you question the letter
no return address, no divine guarantee
nothing but a nickname you haven’t used
since you had no fear of failure
or opening envelopes.
Acknowledgements:
Used by permission of the author:
1) “The Anticlimactic End of the World” from An Affection for Precipices (Serengeti Press, 2006) by J. J. Steinfeld.
2) “It Saddens Me They Put You in This Nameless Room” from Morning Bafflement and Timeless Puzzlement (Ekstasis Editions, 2020) by J. J. Steinfeld.
3) “Mystified” from A Visit to the Kafka Café (Ekstasis Editions, 2018) by J. J. Steinfeld.
4) “Life on Another Planet” from A Visit to the Kafka Café (Ekstasis Editions, 2018) by J. J. Steinfeld.
5) “Foretelling” from Absurdity, Woe Is Me, Glory Be (Guernica Editions, 2017) by J. J. Steinfeld.
J. J. Steinfeld - Canadian poet, fiction writer, and playwright J. J. Steinfeld lives on Prince Edward Island (Epekwitk),where he is patiently waiting for Godot’s arrival and a phone call from Kafka. While waiting, he has published 24 books, including An Unauthorized Biography of Being (Stories, Ekstasis Editions, 2016), Absurdity, Woe Is Me, Glory Be (Poetry, Guernica Editions, 2017), A Visit to the Kafka Café (Poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2018), Gregor Samsa Was Never in The Beatles (Stories, Ekstasis Editions, 2019), Morning Bafflement and Timeless Puzzlement (Poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2020), Somewhat Absurd, Somehow Existential (Poetry, Guernica Editions, 2021), Acting on the Island (Stories, Pottersfield Press, 2022), and As You Continue to Wait (Poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2022).
As You Continue to Wait (Poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2022): http://www.ekstasiseditions.com/recenthtml/AS%20You%20Continue%20to%20Wait.htm
Acting on the Island (Stories, Pottersfield Press, 2022): https://49thshelf.com/Books/A/Acting-on-the-Island
Selected books by J. J. Steinfeld (Poetry & Stories): https://49thshelf.com/content/search?SearchText=J.+J.+Steinfeld
Ekstasis Editions books (Poetry & Stories) by J. J. Steinfeld: https://ekstasiseditions.com/backlisthtml/steinfeld.html
