Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
As I Write These Words
By Samir GeorgesiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2012Samir Georges
All right reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4697-7375-9Chapter One
Open Curtains To a scene of beginning:
Where with a gasp of universal release,
The dark void bursts from the light
Showers worlds with the heat of new passion,
and from darkness comes life.
And so too is born into this world rust
and the dulling of blades,
the birth of habits
when globes dim and dull, glow and growl.
But the emptiness remains vast,
a sight of worldly yearning
Cold to the eyes,
Faint to the touch.
It's a sight caught up in the stars
amidst the ones that have fallen,
the many that are falling still,
and those in our eyes that live.
They remind us
of rolling hills,
the illusion of mountains,
and their promise of clouds;
the uncertainty of faith
and crashing to the earth;
the steady crawl,
the forced ascent;
another promise,
another beginning.
And we rise again, always
in step with the sun,
and the breath of this fuller world
that stands alone all around us,
demanding our hearts and pledge
to live
and begin again; all that once was
to fill this empty space
with something other
than dull yearning
and cold embrace.
And with every word and breath,
a promise
to begin anew.
Rise again as workers tasked
and fill this world with life.
Soft-spoken Words Softly spoken words arise
from the ashes
in droplets of snow,
and they rise like curtains
shrouding us in cooling shade,
enticing us
with the tingling of their touch.
These heartfelt sensations
that melt away in waves before the sun
leave but a gentle dew
and memories
of soft-spoken words.
Wilful Captive I'm sitting in the perfect place,
feeling very present
from the ebbing of the pain in my ankle,
the tickle I feel upon my brow,
the fading ache of the bench against my back,
and the ease of every breath,
to the touching of the wind
like a gentle rain that leaves no mark behind,
to the pleasantness of the bird mere struts away,
to the ant intruding on my thoughts
and the smoothness of the water trickling
so close to my ears.
Even the pavement beneath my clothed feet
feels soft yet unyielding.
The fly that twirls around
and the clearness of my eye—
Oh, I am caught in a perfect place
between two worlds.
Whispers The flash of a bulb.
"Sorry" flashes
in my mind.
Echo.
The pulse of my mind,
snap of the camera.
Snap!
Echo.
Sorry.
Pregnant rain
slushes down the sky,
Lightning skidding
through the drops.
Snap.
Fading flash ploughs
back to the camera,
my mind.
Clouds limp past, dragging.
Sorry, I can no longer hear the
whisper.
Snap, flash, all gone, huddled
in a ball in the back of
my mind.
A drop,
another,
jolt my sleeping senses.
A swarm, rain rails down, cold.
A startled cry—
they awake.
Shredding the wind,
clouds streak by; steam engines, like flashes, burn my eyes.
The sun blazes upward; I crane my neck
to catch it—too fast,
gone,
the whisper
gone.
A Foul Business In debt to this world,
Silent is she
Who is spared no sympathy.
Stripped of her fruitfulness,
Once so welcoming and whole,
Now she lays there,
Her pride an open door.
A crippled beast once wild
Discarded there, unspoken,
To be picked at by carrion
Or mauled at by those remorseless needs.
One day a dear friend came by to include
His hungering smile,
Putting no effort to hide
His green teeth, a gleaming pride.
Whirlpool of Fate, Siren
Grasp of Quicksand Swallowed by your path, Panic!
Wriggling in its strong grasp, Suffering!
Subdued beneath its murk, Frantic!
Twitching weakly with hope, Flickering ...!
Peacefully captive bound soul, Unspoken ...
Recalling events long past, Ebbing...