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Open Gift Poems by Panu Moon,Cherry Gollogoly, Whip Snapper,Rilke and Moi!

uploaded: Fri, Nov 14, 2008 @ 8:10 AM last modified: Wed, Jan 7, 2009 @ 6:24 AM (replace)

by	Anchor Méjans
Featuring	P. Moon,C. Gollogoly,E. Carmen,W. Snapper
Recommends	Recommends (9)

A very stirring poem by Rainer Maria Rilke: titled - “Music” and 3 original poems. Hieroglyps, Gardener and Map - also Em Carmen recites a lyric from an early 19th century French song by Massenet. Two poems by Panu Moon “Cuacuchee’s Last Words” & “Pencil and a Sheet” - and three poems by Cherry Gollogly - “Rosey Zwerus Drowned”,”Naked in Istanbul” & “Gabriel Club”. Finally, a work titled “Patrick Henry” by Whip Snapper (both spoken and sung).

Lyrics:

Music (Rilke poem)

Take me by the hand;
it’s so easy for you, Angel,
for you are the road
even while being immobile.

You see, I’m scared no one
here will look for me again;
I couldn’t make use of
whatever was given,

so they abandoned me.
At first the solitude
charmed me like a prelude,
but so much music wounded me.

2. Massenet:

L’ombre des arbres dans la rivière embrumée
Meurt comme de la fumée,
Tandis qu’en l’air, parmi les ramures réelles,
Se plaignent les tourterelles.

Combien ô voyageur, ce paysage blême
Te mira blême toi-même,
Et que tristes pleuraient dans les hautes feuillées, -
Tes espérances noyées.

3.
HIEROGLYPHICS

When I called
Through light gauze…
your Egyptian eye,
a lapis boat sailing up the Nile’s blue fan…
afloat the wings of Amon Ra…
The savoir sun shines down
in bands of gold and turquoise hippopotami,
shut tight as the lid of a sarcophagus.

Tones of hammered dulcimers were heard…
the Pharoah’s on the phone with me…
“What news of Hatsephut and Seb?
What about the cats and rams?
What are these markings in the sand
you drew so deftly with side turned hand?”

4.
Gardener

Ground me…
Oh live one.
Big bucket water me.
Place me in the center squarely.
Hands with not too clean nails…
Couch me in warm dirt…
Muttering…“there…there”.
Always a smile…
A smile always…
While patting softly around my stem.
Or sometimes, bully fists might pound
Rapid but affectionate bouts of hugs.
All around your golden form gleam
Pre-Raphaelite horticultural halos…
Revealing a greater love at that moment…
Or any season when you come to care and return me
To that garden from which your heart of Eden was dreamed.

4. Map

I mapped out a song with sacred geometry
but it unraveled beyond its boundaries -
it’s lovely crimson threads unfurled near puddles near rivers, far away from the petty wars and private sins of solitary men.
It’s shape, once a rose in mist,
and a background music of foreign bliss, retreated as I walked toward - kept forever out reach.
yet I hold on to the elusive lyric and let it define my wistful endings - my hopeful beginnings.