of all the hearts

of all the hearts i've held inside this cage

this one is by far the fiercest. it wants love

to conquer death, and will settle for nothing

less, will do anything to get what it desires.

you can move closer, you will be safe.

to you it will seem a beehive and a gate.

and you will not have to do the work -

harvest the honey, pound at the gate;

honey will pour forth like a flood, and the gate

will pound like a fist to get you to enter.

poem by Andreas at Untitled

 

abundance of being

It is only that this warmth and movement are like
The warmth and movement of a woman.

It is not that there is any image in the air
Nor the beginning nor end of a form:

It is empty. But a woman in threadless gold
Burns us with brushings of her dress

And a dissociated abundance of being,
More definite for what she is—

Because she is disembodied,
Bearing the odors of the summer fields,

Confessing the taciturn and yet indifferent,
Invisibly clear, the only love.

Wallace Stevens, 

The Woman in Sunshine

(for James, thanking him for introducing me to this wonderful poem)

summer-blue-lit

My songs were lit with summer-blue

And grew dark on their return.

Meine Lieder trugen des Sommers Bläue
Und kehrten düster heim.

Else Lakser-Schüler, tr. by Felix de Villiers