Void
Don’t call it void or meaningless,
this poem, only empty of what
you’ve deleted its meaning and
still full of twists and mental corners
robbed of its depth like
his palms nailed on the cross
didn’t let the tree limb
extend and gain wisdom
but it was spring
their boiling blood
forced their eager hands
to rob this poem
of its unwritten meaning
nothing on the branch of the birch
but the lone owl crying
give me strength and give me air:
wisdom filling the abyss
excerpt
Backing the horses out of the trailer, Tanya led them around, giving
them a chance to stretch their legs and survey their new surroundings
while Joel checked in at the office and got directions to
their stabling area. The good news was that the stalls they were
assigned were still in the state of Oklahoma. But just barely.
After stabling the horses and unloading their gear, Tanya and
Joel headed to the arena. As they arrived, they realized that they
were just in time to watch the evening’s performance. So that
night, after a long three days of hauling their two horses across
the country, they settled back to get the feel of the arena as they
ate hot dogs, drank soft drinks, and watched the cutting and
working cow horse classes.When it was all done they realized that
they were tired and needed to find their hotel in a hurry. After one
last check on their horses, which seemed to have taken to their
new surroundings quite nicely, Joel and Tanya drove over to the
hotel to claim their room for the next few days. Tanya insisted to
Joel that he could have the bedroom, and she would take the
couch. Reluctantly, Joel accepted Tanya’s firm offer. After unpacking,
they fell asleep to dreams of victory in the show ring.
excerpt
or not – it all depends on the environment. I suspect that you haven’t
thought your way through it – and I’m not trying to be rude, or difficult.
Usually, when people come in and ask for something that’s completely
outside their understanding, they, probably, aren’t asking for the right
thing. I’d like to suggest that I come down and make a presentation to
your company, on what I think you’re looking for.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. You don’t seem sure about why you want it, and you’re not sure
about the environment it will be in. I suspect that no matter what I paint
you won’t be happy. Painting what is in someone else’s mind is almost
impossible. So, would you do me the courtesy of letting me come down
and make a presentation, and see if that is what you want?”
“Certainly.”
A few weeks later, Ken walked into the formidable skyscraper in downtown
Toronto and gave the board members his analysis. They wanted a
large painting for the foyer. Fine – he could supply that, but it wouldn’t
be as large as the Reichmann painting. And, it would be the first of several
canvases. A smaller one would hang in the boardroom, and several others
would hang throughout the premises. The preliminary sketches and
drawings would be framed and hung as well. The paintings would tell a
story that would be repeated in a booklet. A six-minute film would also
tell the story, and it would play on a large screen television in the reception
area. When a client arrived for a meeting, he would sit and watch the
movie.
“Now, they have something interesting,” Ken said. “This is something
they have not anticipated seeing, and they realize that you are a lot more
than just what you do. When you meet the client, you tour them around
and show them all the works, and then you sit down and get down to
business. By now, they realize that you are interesting people. You have
things going on other than making money. When your business is concluded
you hand the client a copy of the book – signed by me and your
CEO – as something to take away and remind them of the meeting.”
Ken suggested they take a holiday during the month of August and
turn their offices over to him. When they returned the space would be
transformed – not just because the paintings would be hung. What good
were paintings if the background didn’t complement them? He proposed
changing the furniture to set off his work and painting the walls in appropriate
colours. Everything had to work – it had to be of a piece.
The cost, he said, was irrelevant – the accountants would write the
whole thing off. He thanked them, told them he had to return to his
painting, and left. During the next few days several of the board members
visited his studio. A couple of weeks later they accepted his fee of four
hundred eighty thousand dollars.
You Didn’t Know
About our religious beliefs,
the fool Julian said, “I read, I understood,
I disagreed.” As if he, the idiot, had
eliminated us with his ‘disagreement.’
But such clever statements don’t carry
any weight with us Christians. We at once responded,
“You read, but you understood nothing, because
if you had, you wouldn’t have disagreed.”
Denial
Hesitant moonlight entered
to sit on the night table
outline of her conflagrated body
lain on the deserted bed
autumn breeze
a shameless raider
sneaked through
the half open window
to observe her two thighs
softly rubbing against each other
two fingers travelled over
her wet mound
involuntary conspiring wind
and window shutter
created the sorrowful creak
that brought her to consciousness
heart pulse bounced off
the gleaming mirror to fall
dead onto the carpet crying
unfair life even this dreamy
pleasure you denied me.
excerpt
Tyne sat on a chair across from her. Several seconds passed in silence. Tyne did not intend to make it easy for the woman.
Finally Ruby said, “I know you’re mad at Bill and me because the kids ran away. I know you didn’t want us to have them in the first place. But we … I did my best for them.”
“Did you?”
Ruby looked up sharply. The fire that Tyne remembered from their encounter in Emblem Hospital had returned to her eyes. “Yeah, I did, no matter what they … what Rachael says.”
Tyne sat forward, her eyes riveted on Ruby’s face. “And was doing your best making Rachael work like a woman in the house? Letting your daughter bully her – even going so far as to mutilate the doll? Telling her that she and Bobby would be sent to an orphanage?” She took a deep breath. “Was that doing your best for her?”
Ruby sat straight, ready to defend herself. “I didn’t know a lot of that stuff until later when Lark told me. And anyway, I can’t see it’s any of your business because they’re not your kids. You’re not even related.”
“No,” Tyne said quietly, “we’re not. But your sister left them in our care, and I promised to look after them for her. And both Morley and I have grown to love them which is what you don’t appear to do, even though they’re your own flesh and blood.”
Ruby’s face turned red and she lowered her head. “I do love them,” she whispered, “an’ I’m sorry about what Lyssa did. I try, but I don’t have any control over her.”
Tyne tried to quell the unexpected twinge of compassion. “Okay Ruby. I’m sure it’s difficult at times. But what about Ronald? You don’t deny his dad beat him?”
Still looking at the floor, Ruby shook her head from side to side. “No, I don’t deny that. Bill is hard on him, always has been.”
“Couldn’t you stop him?”
There was a long pause, during which Tyne became aware that someone stood nearby. She looked up to see a middle-aged woman hesitate in the doorway, then move on when Ruby spoke. “I tried to stop him at first, but he’d turn on me. I couldn’t stand up to him; he’s a big man.”
Tyne felt revulsion. “Did he hit you?”
I Listen to the Sea
I listen to the sea. Orchestra
of chords, wind instruments
under the guidance of a maestro
and further away
the echo of percussions
on the rocks.
Beautiful metaphor.
Beautiful? Despicable
when instead of the sunless
concerts of a classic boredom
I mentally move to the ceaseless
water sounds of an existent Amorgos.
Now how did I imagine a maestro
and wind instruments
that don’t even let go of a whisper
in the wind?
I listen to the sea, or rather I try.
The sea is so beautiful and true
like a lie.
Not Executed
Clouds on the mountain. Whose fault is it? He, tired, looks
straight ahead, returns, walks, stoops.
The stones are on the ground, the birds up in the air.
A water pitcher stands at the windowsill. Thorns in the fields.
Hands in the pockets. Pretenses, pretenses. The poem delays.
Emptiness. Speech is defined by what it has silenced.
Balance
He stood under the hundred year old oak proud of
its height when He urged us to become alike and truly
we felt we had grown higher as though in a secret
conspiracy among all alive entities who spot their reflective
light in darkness so we turned toward the sky with the hope
of reaching it and we extended our limbs toward the depths
of earth into which we stretched roots and knowledge that
suckled onto the earthly breast surely we agreed to uphold
this inescapable duality while He smiled satisfied that
we had found the path upon which we were meant to reach
our equilibrium.
excerpt
“But he claims you assured him the hole is good. The market is telling
him something else.”
“It is a good hole, Eteo. Why do you doubt it?”
Eteo had to pause for a moment to find smoother words than the
first ones that came to mind.
“Look, Richard. If they really had a good hole, they wouldn’t
make a cash call now. They would release the news that their hole
was good. Simple as that. Asking for more money so fast, I have to
tell you, Richard, it’s not a good sign. I don’t like it, and neither does
Bernard.”
“Don’t be so pessimistic, Eteo. We have a good hole, you’ll see.”
“I hope so Richard, I hope so. But looking at the market, if it
thought the hole was good, there would have been lots of buying orders
from the drillers themselves, you know that. We would have seen
them by now. I’m afraid your guy has got nothing and just wants to
milk the partners for as long as he can.”
Eteo paused and took a deep breath. Richard was silent too. Finally,
all he could say was, “It will be a good hole, you’ll see.”
“You know,” Eteo warned, “Bernard could be a bad partner if he
found out that anything was kept from him.”
“Why? What did he say to you?” Richard asked, sounding
alarmed now.
“I’m just advising, Richard, that Bernard could be a very negative
factor in the market if he felt cheated. He could try to undermine you
just for the principle of it. I know him.”
“Come on, Eteo. There aren’t any principles in this market, and
you know it. If my market picks up, he’ll make money on it too. Why
would he undermine me.”
“Then the question arises, how will you move your market with
a bad drill hole?”
“Don’t say that, Eteo. I have a good drill hole. You’ll see when the
news is out.”
“I hope so for your sake, Richard”
“Are you trying to warn me about something more specific, Eteo?
Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Manolis Aligizakis 