Immortality
And I swore before the blurry eyes
of my kin to cleanse their lot with
the heartache I inherited, I promised
to search in their dirt for my immortality
I was to paint the bulbs of the earth black
and again, to insert them into the soil
so they would sprout up like new
penises to enter hungry mounds
and to feel the ecstatic mixture of pain
and joyful cocktail of drugs
that put my consciousness to rest
to these, I swore standing opposite
my kin’s secret grandeur
when they begged for more,
such flimsy was their self-esteem
and in their ridicule, in their viscera
I came to know
the lone glimpse of optimism
leading them to their self-destruction
Excerpt
Ken did as he was asked and came back to his grandfather’s side. He
rearranged the pillows and as he settled the old man back, he noticed that
his hands had become still.
“Come close,” Don Hymie said, wrapping his arms around his grandson
and holding him near. Then he gently pushed Ken back and held him
at arm’s length. “I want you to listen to your old grandpa,” he said. “And I
want you to listen very carefully.” His eyes, that only an hour before had
been hazy and clouded, were wide open and shining.
“Look at me,” he said. “I’m going to make a prediction for you and I
don’t ever want you to forget it. You have to keep it inside you – don’t
tell it to anyone. You’re going to have a very bright and beautiful life. It
won’t be an easy life but it will shine. The gods favour you. You are one of
destiny’s creatures.”
He gave Ken’s shoulders an almost imperceptible squeeze and lay back
against the pillows. Ken held his hand, wondering what his grandfather
had meant. Were these just the ramblings of a dying man? Did he have a
vision? He noticed that the old man smelled different. “Is this how you
smell when you’re dying?” he wondered. And then the old man’s hand
became limp and his face changed. Ken listened, but the sound of his
grandfather’s breathing was no longer present in the room.
He sat by the old man’s side while time stopped and his thoughts stilled.
Then he wrapped his arms around him and held him close and felt a large
weight lift – a shadow disappeared and peace settled on him.
When he left the room to join the others he told them that Don Hymie
had died. He left the house and walked aimlessly up and down the streets
of Miraflores for hours, feeling as though he was floating just above the
cobbles, his mind suspended in a place that thoughts could not penetrate.
When he returned he found his grandmother in the garden. She came to
meet him, put her arm through his and walked with him down the street.
“Did you have a good talk with grandpa?”
“I did.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Why?”
“Grandpa knows things.”
Don Hymie’s body was taken to Valencia where the funeral took place.
An enormous throng of people crowded into the huge cathedral and lined
the steps and sidewalks. Everyone came: the powerful and the peasants –
and perhaps the peasants grieved more than the ruling elite. Seeing the
tears of love and loss and listening to the heartfelt tributes these people
paid to his grandfather, Ken thought how strange it was that this outpouring
came upon death. How sad it wasn’t done while he was still alive.
Excerpt
Morley’s face relaxed and he chuckled. “I guess not. But seriously, Tyne, it’s not just because that particular cow has a mean streak. Even the most docile animal can suddenly become possessive if she thinks her baby is being threatened.”
Tyne nodded as she picked up her fork. Then she remembered why she had gone out to the barn in the first place – before being caught up in all the drama. “Morley, I’ve done something I should not have done before consulting you.”
His eyes twinkled. “You mean besides going into a pen where you had no business going?”
Tyne kicked him gently under the table. Then, without compromising patient confidentiality, she told him about Lydia and about the promise to take the children until their mother had convalesced. “I’m sorry I didn’t consult you first. I had no business doing that either.”
But Morley reacted exactly as she knew he would. “Of course we’ll take the kids. How old are they?”
“Rachel’s seven and Bobby’s four. But you’ll have them alone at night for the next two days. What if you have to go out to the barn to see to a calving cow, or something?”
“It’s not likely to happen this week, but if it does I’ll call my mother. She’ll be happy to help, and she’ll be here in five minutes.”
Tyne smiled. Yes, of course, both of Morley’s parents who lived on the next farm not more than a mile away, would be more than happy to help. They were that kind of people.
Although Morley had wanted to drive her to work that night, Tyne assured him she had rested well and would be fine on the four mile trip to Emblem. She had spoken to Dr. Dunston earlier in the evening about the Conrad children, and he said he would accompany her to their home when she got off duty in the morning just in case Corky appeared less than hospitable when she arrived. She had also called her mother to enlist her help in looking after the little ones when Tyne was working the day shift. Emily Milligan eagerly agreed.
Justification
Then I shall let the song be free
to buzz above me
the laughter of the people
and the wind’s whistle will keep up with it
I shall lie down, close my eyes
and laugh as never before
Goodnight, say hello to the light
I’ll tell the last person I meet.
When together, we shall take the road
Somehow my presence will sit heavy
for the first time, upon the shoulders of four men.
Then, paying my life’s effort handsomely
the shovel will graciously toss
dirt and thorns beautifully over me.
CREATION
You looked at a point in the sky
and the spot became the sun,
you needed it as a tool
and it has become the furnace of your accomplishments
out of dust and water –
what you blew on
started to move,
to move in the garden,
to go astray,
eat apples,
get involved in a conflict
making You laugh
Di-vi-ne-ly.
Then turning your face away from them,
you left them alone…
Later,
You implanted your son into a human body
to show them
how you had wanted people to be like,
what they could have been.
And they…
crucified him.
Manifestation
We sensed deeply that the time had come. From the shiver
of the wind and the melody of morning dew, from
the strange light over the cemetery and the laughter
of the fat woman, we knew the time had arrived when
He would appear, the Übermensch with all His power
in the chrysanthemums’ simplicity, in the humility
of the front step of our house, we knew it,
our Übermensch would appear.
But tell me, if you can, how the widow spent her first
night of loneliness? And we prayed for smooth sailing,
for rocky promontories that gazed at the infinite, let them
be holy, and for the hyacinths that poked the soil in every
frosty March until finally He arrived: our Übermensch.
Manolis Aligizakis 