Mu #1

 

 

an experience of innocence

(anke veld, plateau 5, deel 3)

 

 

"Moriemur inultae, sed moriamur"
("I'll die unrevenged, but let's get it over with anyway" -
Dido in book 4 of Virgil's Aeneid)

 

 

there was a room
i dream it still


there were sounds
she was there


there was or
it is as if
there was gold
there were faces

 

there were faces hanging from little sighs
and larger moans carrying fists and praying
hands
there was unruhe even
before the work had begun

children were dying in a steady rhythm, rituals
were being performed to add their lost souls
to the writing on the walls

i could not paint anything anywhere anymore
there was too much light, not a spark of paint would last
longer than the time it took for it to touch the canvas



no body wanted to get painted anymore anyway


they did not know their hands would not touch the screen
when its lines were not seen

 

the room was silent

she was there

she was reading

she was reading a Cathedral Scroll

a flaming tree with leaves of licking tongues
sprung from her thighs and grew as she read on

each tongue would curl as if when
given lips and mouth and cheek and teeth
and vocal cords
all of them would utter

one of every different sign she read
simultaneously over
and over

again

from the Scroll

 

 

the shapes of sounds
the shapes of silenced sounds
the silent tree of possibilities

grew thicker every second

until

 

 

it nearly filled the room, some faces
had to leave

 

i do not remember
which

 

but

 

it is said a man came up to her then, a stranger, we
had not seen him
before

 

he had freedom all written over him, in bloody swatches
from a powerful palette

 

he asked:

"do you have me
in you or is there you

in me ? "

 

 

she did not move
nor did she take her eye from the Scroll

 

 

again he asked:

 

"do you have some of me
in you or is there some of you

in me ? "


her patience with men
is as notoriously shortlived as the absent eternity
in the moments of her present being

 

 

again he was about to ask
but before he could utter one more syllable

 

the tree collapsed, the sound
was deafening and as she rolled up the Scroll
the world closed down a day or two

or so i'm told,

as i see her sealing it
still
before me
in my feverish dreams
with a silent
tender
kiss

 

i need her now, i need
her desperately

i need
to paint the perfect lines
for us to touch


but there is only

darkness

in this room

 

 

 

 

 

please

delete me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

L.M. 9/11/2005 19:44 - © dv 2005 - Free Art License

Mu #1