13 Poemas de Philip Lamantia

The Islands of Africa

to Rimbaud

Two pages to a grape fable

dangles the swan of samite blood

shaping sand from thistle covered fog

Over sacred lakes of fever

(polished mouths of the vegetable frog

rolling to my iron venus)

I drop the chiseled pear

Standing in smoke filled valleys

(great domains of wingless flight

and the angel’s fleshy gun)

I stamp the houses of withering wax

Bells of siren-teeth (singing to our tomb

refusal’s last becoming)

await the approach of the incendiary children

lighting the moon-shaped beast

Every twisted river pulls down my torn-out hair

to ratless columns by the pyramid’s ghost

(watered basin of the temple stink)

and all the mud clocks in haste

draw their mermaid-feather swords

(wrapped by Dust) to nail them

into the tears of the sea-gull child

The winter web minute

flutters beneath the spider’s goblet

and the whores of all the fathers

bleed for my delight

There

on that chain of Ohlone mountains
shafts of light on a bobcat
through the thick madrones
first seen emblems that endure cupped my nine years
the great booming voice of nature
in the red bark’s sloping labyrinth
who called my name
fetishes of pebbles and tabac in a redwood pouch
secret house of bark between the branches
these lights never die whose embers glow wilder
than wilderness at the beginning of words
to catch the ring of stars
at the still point
of infinite sur-rational flight
all was bathed in red
according to the perfection of temporal mirrors
elastic time in the gape of memory
visionary recitals in the exultant spring oblivious to the sea

Blue Grace

                             crashes thru air

where Lady LSD hangs up all the floors of life for the last time

Blue Grace leans on white slime

Blue Grace weaves in & out of Lüneburg and ‘My Burial Vault’ undulates

from first hour peyote turnon

Diderot hand in hand with the Marquis de Sade

wraps himself up in a mexican serapé

at Constitution Hall, Philadelphia, 1930

Blue Grace turns into the Count of Saint-Germain

      who lives forever

            cutting up George Washington

dream of pyramid liquefactions from thighs of Versailles

Blue Grace intimidates Nevil Chamberlain

feels up Fillippo Marinetti

and other hysterics of the phallic rose

Blue Grace dressed up as automobile sperm

      My Claw of the future

      and the almond rose Rich the Vampire wears

                                            over the US Army

— flags !… Leer más

8 Poemas de Norah Lange

En el camino hay un silencio de palabra imposible

La tarde reza en ermita de fuego

Sobre el despoblado

hacen penitencia las sombras

Las estrellas columpian la escalera

por donde bajarán los ángeles a la tierra

Mi vida se desangra gota a gota.

La tarde es una sola lágrima clara

Cada sombra es un latido que nos besa

Cerca, más cerca

el corazón de la noche.… Leer más

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