Vivien Eime

12 poems and two poèms en prose

in time

hurry the day when
i may be out of the race
say what i like
spit peas out at night.

perhaps this time will be gold
methinks if it were
my heart would breathe at last
my tears might be less and
my shoulder more able

refuse to drip blood
and do not ooze
stay within me so i may
be thicker with myself.

 

herald

the brightest light
flies ahead, calling
back as the avant-garde.
the mass of strength
trusts her sight and
follows faithfully
as she holds her
heraldry responsibly.
a glimmer to begin and
the mass to cover the
wake.

 

a lump too bulky

i gather the falls of my life
and make a pile; a lump too
bulky to kick along this endless dusty road.

with a shiver of power
a candle lit is added,
innocent only seconds before.

the lick of fire creates
waxen tears as the felled pile erupts.

through the flames
the road is clear.

 

first slipper

leaf claws extend from the stump of a frangipani arm
as i walk beneath the moon’s first slipper;
evening frost of a sunfilled day dampens my skin;
touching my cheek brings me back into my surrounds.
i am reminded of the earth as it spins
the reality of asphalt
the intrusion of traffic lights
the harsh treatment of mind over body
and the simplicity of my heart.
how desperately i try to control my tears.
clutching my clothes to gain strength to overcome
a wrenching need to pour my eyes away completely.
a cool instruction binding me closed:
be calm
relax
and don’t be sad.

 

her

i don’t know how to speak of her.
not strange as she has no words of her own.
objectively though, you’d think there was
a chance to have her stated, even blankly;
for one crushed – just existing.
we even know the cause of extinguishment
– time and circumstance the assassin –
what is that though but dough for baking
into bread – cut spread and eaten, it passes
through to become process unto its own extinction.
on from the meal of recognition lies choice.
arise from the table, clear implements,
place all right and know it is complete.
a stage; a section; a feast of self.
or, hover ‚mongst the mess of preparation
stagnate with prey eaten; sigh with satiation
and fall slothlike into sleep and dream.

Uninspiring? yes, it is. i agree.

so there are no words to describe her
except, perhaps, she still lives.

 

scarlet woman

i once clenched my jaw and proffered
my chin never wincing as the pincers
gripped and pulled.
the lips that were ground with
another pair accepted any pain as necessary to endure.
but tonight i will proffer my jaw
unclenched; will wait to feel the
pincers lose interest.
tonight the razor edge of
discovery will slash away
the other pair of lips
which bind me to pain.
i shall wrench myself
free with one slash.
one bright red slash.
‚tis a vision of the
pool of blood which
spurs me on.
to emerge smeared and sinewed
to the surface. wait for
the reddish veil to slip
and see sights clear.

 

decision

a cry in the inner sanctum
a corridor out
step quickly into it
and out
you see the door – its open!
now – OUT.
and don’t turn back,
for if you do you’ll see
the screamer;
have a thought to
reach back in and
save her
but she’ll be running
to slam the door
and your arm shall be caught
snap.

 

the importance of punctuation

the sound of a bass voice:
a true connection to the
inky black from which we squirt.

should we say sir?
should we say madam.

and the bass booms:
in the black, people,
address does not matter.
remember only your end
in fullstop.

 

viewing humanity

by the light of a distant star
a great heard viewed from a distance
hears a scream issue forth.

their heads incline and, intent,
their feet shuffle as they
whisper who its it? who screams?

yes. yes? others mutter and why.

it is one of their own, one
who has left her washed clothes dripping
and views humanity from afar.

 

to be struck down dead

i do not wish to die
– of course –
but to be struck down dead.
to have a javelin crack gunshot
cleave my shirt into a crimson soak;
hear a shrill ring build until
i fall bent to my knees as
the grey sponge bursts.

to leave in a band
instead of a
wheezing
choir.

 

when

is the most demanding voice I have
when cold fictual mass en masse emerges.

over short or long, traversed or un,
above the ready world I sit alone to consider
I am an innately selfish creature and
there are oh so many more of me.

true, with a desire – even though ‚tis only
an inkling – toward generosity.
ah – but this I see is trace of survival
immaturity.

behold the species and be brave.

 

she will smile

a slim juggler of buttered curls
attempting to ignore a
temporary existence
bites at specific points
in her self made arcs.

no time to pine
whilst she remains in action
fear not the motion
as it is self which propels.

the feet are firmly planted after all.

 

Two Seasons

cacklehoned

spring. in the sun. lying on grass with my twin skin next to me. close next to me. watching wispy clouds relating stories in 3-d. mermaids meet dragons clasp hands to dissipate into a wishing well with 2 jills and no jack. modern times. modern stories.

is it true that butterflies evolve from caterpillars and live for a week? crawl through winter to fly into spring. only for a week? or was it only for a day. do i remember a day or a week. would they?

i feel the grass on my back, imagine myself long only eating eating eating eating until a silent call urges me to coil my long self into a ball. coocooned and waiting. imagine.

rolling over now to begin the coil and come face to face with my twin skin. out of my imagination – out of my coocoon – face to face. me and my twin skin touching front to front. eyes an inch from eyes noses receding from the pressure breast to breast hips hipped knees and feet balancing. i wonder why i don’t fall in. melted by the sun. to just meld. we could name ourself cainannabelle or joan whale. i realise we wouldn’t survive on one income. a tragedy. devastation on such a beautiful day.

earthed from dreams i stretch and feel my stomach growl. think about dinner. remember the grass and begin to graze.

black hued lacklore

suddenly winter. i rise above a leunig landscape and it is night. such a sense of light as i glide toward the stars (or the few that he will allow) a venused grouplinged heaven where orion, upturned, only ever stands fist raised.

from where did i acquire wings? and how long may i have them?? i am not dead for they are brown and i am glad, absurdly, to have vision bifocal… suddenly feel for the ibis.

thoughts of all those things that i have left as my home whisper and flood my mind as i glide. i have left them, left them all. i spy you and wonder where your home is; hover, continuing to spy your lone figure foot watching toward a raised flat stone. still now, father sown and mother tended, allowing one tear to well and fall you talk as if those you visit are still where you placed them feet together eyes closed.

to whom do you speak? and your head turns – as does mine – to find the owl. but it is i who hooted. i who spoke… a feather flicks in my mouth. i am the owl… madam as seen in the master’s world. i have stepped over the welcome mat, cut my legs from the earth to find i appear only ever as another’s vision.

too easily this sadness may bind me – for i know what it is to live for the other – look up so i might breathe space and catch the larger vision… at last sense my advance. each toe has an end you see.

with a tremor i prepare to travel with wings – in flight! fassung, twit-twoo.

Ania Walwicz

Poème en prose

travelling

the train goes and the station moves away what time is it we’re going to a jungle hot palms i fall asleep drunk talked to himself i know what i have to do did you see the house on fire out of the window did you see the house on fire out of the window did you see the house on fire out of the window where are we now in my map i don’t know too scared to ask am i on the right train are we going the right way where are we now voices in the train soldiers coming loud louder then soft softer then they go away i was asleep then i woke up voices come back then loud then softer then they very soft now softer whisper it is dawn first little pink line in the moving sky gets lighter can i roll the blind now put your blanket little lights of waking towns pass us at night houses sleep in the field dawn drunk gone i didn’t see him my ticket and coffee my cup jumps they play cards and laugh little reading light i can’t sleep the ship in my port they opened the porthole the ship moves to sea huge wave curls near my fingers shining on edges surges wave rises curls slowly near me i can touch it i can touch it sun on water green deep bending a wave right near me crashes i am wet i woke up at the middle of the night they lit a fire in a field they stood around and warmed their hands near the border when the plane lifts there is music and lift we fly in a soft cloud the train flew over the lake i couldn’t see the rails the bridge flashed by with girders with girders with girders the boat leaves the pier swims away the lake was so still you couldn’t see horizon oars dip are we moving it is quiet now the dusk is the same as dawn over india red soil i flew above the alps they were below me sharp peaks model mountains the train goes into a tunnel it is dark and dark i’m scared it was hot my feet got too big for my shoes we were going back there is going to be a war he told us the train is slow we were standing in the middle of dark there was an accident at the railway crossing we have to wait when is the train coming the station had big black numbers on each platform my sister told me funny stories we were cold put your arms in your trousers put your legs in your jumper on my feet i wear my hat i put my pants on my head i was laughing and laughing and laughing i lost three hours on the plane it gets earlier all the time people stand in my lit up window did i pack everything did i leave the window open it’s too late we are far away now i left my jacket i ride backwards we eat red lolly berries he was talking africa and tigers she was with her son she gave him an apple she eats sausage greasy fingers talk how to use a camera i can’t listen greasy fingers and the sausage a book of lists and murders fall asleep it’s faster how the lens goodbye at the station she waves her arms and disappears i am flying little cars he went away plane a dot in the sky at night houses have lights on and look warm the city below sparkles diamonds the last tram at night travels home

Divider Line

neons

light me bright me match me cigarette me bright city turn on be loud tell everybody switch yes sing red pencil tick me to on centre mid town go go glow sky lit lines wire buzz me to see ring on me in neon on heady excite me thrill me hold me to tight rush rush be big loud go right through now leap nerve me beat drums loud louder fast run fast right now once go places all the time eat more restaurant flash me show me lively dance put lipstick on neons all colour zap me power lines shine letter light big name glow me put high fast see me watch zing my string best bouncy tube glow in me get ready do it now don’t wait hurry get it right first time do it once not again switch me on i travel fast light switch me on pink candy say words loudspeaker my microphone leap high as can big city centre city big very buildings whole wide world hot lights on stage line my eyes breathe deep all revved up fast car go fast good kill somebody dress to top fashion strut get them wiggle pink face daze me amaze shine me neons on sweet buzz meter front room seat skip dance non stop favourite flower colour allans sweets on river shine thrill me thrill me rise in a loop get up early do lots the more better fast faster lit light on me in such show glow me ania it’s now don’t wait hurry up top tip they clap they whistle stomp yell out aloud more on high want more and more fresh new dare do do new do now very it just here spot lit wear shiny glisteny get tight tonight darling neon electric buy me eat sweets almonds go places every day get money work now just right dare do do new flash me up bow come out lit shine me coca cola i don’t sleep seven up fun city pin ball parlour amusements ride sky mid night click throw me bright lines whirlwind wake up little suzy break dark venture fling adventure red bulbs around my lights stage mirror my name bright around and around light up found this does me out aloud each letter after neon thrill lights wonderful to wonderful stop my breath split thrill me delight move me collect thrills one he brave live now don’t go back again have ones big thrills lights above red town break out fast do once twice glow shine me see me what’s what glow colour in dark tiger put sugar gold eyes on bright lights lively now lively up fix me up lips dance all night loud band hot pepper bite me on highway lights jewel see get to glow just do did it cinema lit flash sign best form top push you can see me now shake spout give me a thrill burst aureole spangles boots with spurs lips ruby glass red fluorescent lit light tubes shine me vinyl head on neon high city red fingernails look at me curve shine lines easy do see me show gas blow me light up shine up shape up pull my socks all up me neon can’t miss spiv can’t take my eyes curve arc shine me night best in dark stick me up stand out sparkling fresh hit triple whisky pink angel centre lights dance dancing can do anything switch me on zag zig sky glow bulb ready whole sky shine get on up