Frostbitten hearts by Albert Russo (simple ebook reader .txt) đź“–
- Author: Albert Russo
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TEN DEGREES FAHRENHEIT
The palm of my hand
throbbing rock under a layer of ice
blood vessels ready to burst
in excrescence of bones
Fingers numb
screech in mute rhapsody
leaves, orphaned leaves
twigs caught in the pond’s
wintry embrace
Fingers alive
dreadfully pale
reaching out to the tree
through its burnt breaches of bark
Trickling
stalagmites
tight, so tight
LOVE POSTHUMOUS
Tinkling on the roofs of Pavia
muffled notes of a snow sonata
a pregnant woman lifts a plank
lays it by the crosscut saw
the plank falls to the ground
and while he bends over
the saw improvises an act of torture
echoes of raw flesh
severing of two phalanxes
he flees into the open whiteness
the right side of his trousers
glowing with incarmined blood
impassible flakes continue to spray
the city’s landscape
a sanguineous ghost slithers
between its narrow alleys
knowing not whether he is the soul
or the mere lodger
of a carpenter once named Mario
At the sight of his appartition
the woman drops her needles
ball of yarn
unrolling obliquely across the room
she blemishes
remains agape
then smoothly glides into
the retreat of unconsciousness
Blind to the scene, a creature
more human than embryo
wrenches itself from
the inhospitable womb
In the morning when my eyes
are still in a haze
I see huge butterflies
fluttering their wings
like black angels
at night I dream of a blue Pegasus
and an Amazon clasped
in a single mane
I and she
my mother and I
Memory posthumous for which
until the end I shall bear the remorse
the remorse of having torn her entrails
ever recurring remorse
whose untenable burden I am
with my 5’ ft 10” of bone-tissue
encumbrance
Retrospect of a play
images familiar
prenatal visions
the shred of a finger pointed
at mother’s cheek
shred changing into a saw
the saw brushing her delicate neck
bloodless beheading
an infant whimpering with rage
rage turned nostalgic
love sublimated
love begotten by the woman-martyr
for whom I shan’t cease to yearn
Love Posthumous
STILL LIFE
3.8 shivers south of the heart
yet another section of the artery ablaze
an icy wind sweeps at gusts of
two thousand kisses
per beat
frantically I try to catch
a handful of those crazed kisses
but succeed only in slashing my palm
the gush freezes
turning into a purple
stalactite
it pierces through the nostalgia vein
then all at once
you hear the bang
bones hollowed out of their dream cells
“farewell” she whispers
her hand freed from my grip
“we wern’t meant for each other”
THE PRISONS OF LOVE
what is it that makes love so uncharitable
turning the heart into a time bomb
and you into a gentle-faced terrorist?
feel how it scuds along the arteries
like churning breakers
while the silence of permafrost
wells inside your bones
how everything jumbles up in the head
where the seasons have lost their bearings
and the memory cells refuse to connect
you used to marvel at nature's discoveries
but now understand that man's quest for infinity
is an ongoing battle against his own imperfections
why else would he spend his resources
trying to tame matter and antimatter
quelling the fires that set our planet ablaze
and that which spills out of the sun
it is love he wishes to domesticate
that most treacherous and uncontrollable quantity
which, for God knows what reason,
originates in the heart and wreaks so much havoc
you then close your eyes and, suddenly, start melting
before the smile of a little boy
THE ROUNDNESS OF YOU
I want to say it in a thousand tongues
yet none said it better than my own
and since you are no longer in the flesh
it is everywhere that I want you to be,
like now, at Franco’s deli
where I have just bought some Parmesan cheese
grainy and slightly moist, piangente
the way you always insisted,
it melts in my mouth
and I savor the roundness of you
tondo, tondo, liscio come una luna d’avorio
I needed you to go for a while
then you misunderstood me and left,
you thought, forever
but you didn’t count with that roundness of you
with which my whole being was besotted
how you would laugh when I sang
the marvels of your skin
dans tes rondeurs encore je me glisse
this evening I asked the confectioner's
for your favorite marzipan chocolate
and I ate it on my way home,
then again that whiff
and the ineffable roundness of you
gold auf weiss, rund herum
wie deine feurigen Augen
half asleep, my lips drunk with your milk
whilst a hand cupped your buttocks
as if God had no other designs for it
la redondez de tus pies
oh I couldn't resist that pair of blue suede shoes
and had the pretty blonde attendant try them,
remember, the one with whom you shared
the same size?
she sold them to me for a song
I could go on and on
exhausting Babel
and its myriad tongues to evoke
the roundness of you,
which indeed I shall do,
for that taste of eternity
Publication Date: 12-07-2009
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