"It creeps everywhere as lizards and huge spiders, which I was chasing the other day all over my
place."
~ Ivana Komel, PhD, writer
~ Ivana Komel, PhD, writer
|
Apocalyptica: Apocalyptica plays Metallica, Sad but true
by Ivana Komel
My dear sadness, I'm writing to you,
because we are in serious troubles as
Michelle Pfeiffer and John Malkovich
in Dangerous Liaisons.
Sadly it’s true, we have to separate –
It’s beyond my control.
Last few days, to wit,
strange light settled down inside of me and
with badly fixed ceiling fan
scattered all over the place.
It even makes strange sounds, my dear –
in the fridge,
which every two hours remain speechless due to power cuts,
but then it roars as an old man,
who spits red leftovers of tamul,
in plastic washing machine,
among dirty clothes,
which are sometimes even dirtier after washing,
in filtered water,
which I carry in all possible plastic bottles
from other block of apartments,
because our device is from long ago sadly but completely dead,
and among shaken windows and doors,
which you have to sometimes kick so long
to close,
that your toes get the shape of green chillies.
It is scary and mysterious, my dear,
as are mysterious God’s ways.
It creeps everywhere as lizards and huge spiders,
which I was chasing the other day all over my place.
Every day in early morning hours I can hear it
in talks and laughter of Khasi’s maids
Khublai, Khublai for an iphér jingshái
(Thank you, thank you for a strange light)
and my dear, it’s sad but true, even I must say,
thank you, thank you for a strange light, too.
because we are in serious troubles as
Michelle Pfeiffer and John Malkovich
in Dangerous Liaisons.
Sadly it’s true, we have to separate –
It’s beyond my control.
Last few days, to wit,
strange light settled down inside of me and
with badly fixed ceiling fan
scattered all over the place.
It even makes strange sounds, my dear –
in the fridge,
which every two hours remain speechless due to power cuts,
but then it roars as an old man,
who spits red leftovers of tamul,
in plastic washing machine,
among dirty clothes,
which are sometimes even dirtier after washing,
in filtered water,
which I carry in all possible plastic bottles
from other block of apartments,
because our device is from long ago sadly but completely dead,
and among shaken windows and doors,
which you have to sometimes kick so long
to close,
that your toes get the shape of green chillies.
It is scary and mysterious, my dear,
as are mysterious God’s ways.
It creeps everywhere as lizards and huge spiders,
which I was chasing the other day all over my place.
Every day in early morning hours I can hear it
in talks and laughter of Khasi’s maids
Khublai, Khublai for an iphér jingshái
(Thank you, thank you for a strange light)
and my dear, it’s sad but true, even I must say,
thank you, thank you for a strange light, too.
|
Ivana Komel
__________________________
Poem & Photographs: Ivana Komel
All rights reserved 2013. Copyright © Ivana Komel
C O N T A C T
Published by Urban Book Circle on November 17, 2013
Urban Book Circle® (UBC)
__________________________
Poem & Photographs: Ivana Komel
All rights reserved 2013. Copyright © Ivana Komel
C O N T A C T
Published by Urban Book Circle on November 17, 2013
Urban Book Circle® (UBC)
