Monday, April 7, 2014

a poem


by Belinda Diepenheim

perched in splendour
in a Brooklyn oak
calling, Kathekon!
Liberated from one
servant, in that space
where "I"
does not include

Gray can be all corners
and mood,
it can be the lost spot
beneath unfinished blue
sky. Alya lies
in the path of gray,
betrayed by her own

Zeno, brilliant, beautiful
bird wisely self improves
as Alya tries after all trying
has furled inside her.

Who is "I" if it is alone?
A fragment of gray
to paint with the colour
and music of another
calling, you're the friend!
Yes, yes, yes.

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