Hippocampus

Where do her memories go

After she has built them?

There’s a dance floor

Where they first met

Then he talked and talked

Until it was late.

There’s a café

Where they met next

Saturday and talked

About poetry and stuff

Over a cup of coffee,

Bubble black tea,

And his headache.

There’s a bar

On 2^nd Avenue and a drink

Called “The Inventor”

There’s an appetizer

Vegetarian

There’s a night

Rainy

There’s a poet shivering and daring

To hold his stranger hand.

There’s a Turkish cab driver

Who recognized a lucky couple

--One bald and one bold--

Like a Certified Copy

They laughed and rolled

Their fingers

Round innocent explorations

Of emotions different

From a documented reality.

There’s a good-bye

There’s no kiss, not yet,

But a memory

The memory!

Where do memories go?

He is a doctor and he knows his stuff

He says there’s a camp or a campus

Called “hippocampus”

Where all memories go.

Doctor!

What happens to memories

She doesn’t want them?

How would they pack and leave

Her hippocampus?

The Birthday

It was a day like any cloudy day

“Dogs were living their doggy lives”

Philosophers were after their post Platonic thoughts

My family was far-- too far

My friends were here and there

And it began raining hard

I came across this cave

It was cold, silent, and dark

He whispered loud

Echoed in my heart

I felt him in my womb

He kicked and kicked

Emerged with feet

But I buried him alive

Returned to the society of men and minds

Each rainy day

I come across the cave

Again

And again

And each time

He comes alive

Tomorrow

(Post Valentine's Day Announcement)



Tomorrow I will buy a bouquet for the breakfast table

I will sign a post card dedicated to myself

And write myself Happy Valentine’s Day!

Tomorrow I will dust the mirror

I will ripen my lips like a luscious apple

And paint my nails flamenco red

Tomorrow I will walk barefoot and splash in every puddle

I will let the wind blow my head scarf in the air

And let the sparrows nest in my curly hair

Tomorrow I will go insane

I will elope with the Prince of Wales

And cross the Sahara on the back of a crooked camel

Tomorrow I will be impossible

I will pour the water from the Atlantic to the Pacific with a pail

And squeeze all the rose buds to bloom in a day

Tomorrow I will fall again

Down Niagara Falls

Down Sears Towers

Down Himalayas

But not in love!

Like Lazarus

My eyes in one glimpse catch

Him in his shining shoes

And fancy black slacks.

A brown turtle neck sweater

Framing his chest and shoulders

Lead my look to those naughty brown eyes

Gazing at me on the hospital bed

All kinds of tubes attached

Beep beeps of the monitor above my head.

I return Like Lazarus

From the world of the dead

Revived with a smile of his.

Zmatený

I am lost in the white sheets again

I have a fantasy from New York to Prague

No wonder I wake up like a bug

Every morning with a question.

Passion—I do not find it.

Obsession-- in abundance.

Love—I cannot fall again.

Fear—it is my guide, it is my foe.

Poetry—it is my faith, it is my hope.

Outside my window

The sparrows are chirping like in spring

And it’s going to snow tonight.

I am not the only one confused.

Phoenix

Here is my rise from the ashes of a love

That had burnt me in all my essence.

Here is the torn shell of fear

Dead and disremembered forever.

Here I drink to death for it is the thought of it

That brings joy to my living.

I am alive as the sunlight

Cast on the walls of this expeditious city.

I breathe in the air with hope and blow a kiss

To the people who do not heed my sprightly smiles.

I flap my wings with faith and rise to sing

To all the walking dead: “Come alive, come alive!”

Here is my rise in a poem

On the white sheets of this blue book

 As my body rises from the sheets

 Of your bed fulfilled and divine.

Here I greet the shimmer in your eyes

 And bid farewell to fears. 

I shall walk without fear on the air

 And all the five elements

For I imagine you watching me

 And hear your wings flapping next to mine.

Here I shall fly fearlessly forever.

Kisses

Kiss I

I once had a kiss;

It tasted of raw pear

And consciousness.

It was snowing

Like in Moscow,

The kitchen

Like a faceted chamber

In Kremlin

And I was melting

Like a snowwoman

In his glowing cheeks.

The mirror looked pale

With the fear of the unknown,

Unknown but not like death.

Curtainless windows

 Staring at snow

Were trapped in their frames

And didn’t dare to step

 Beyond the boundaries.

When I went to sleep

 I wished the world

Buried in snow

By morning.

Kiss II

I once had a kiss

That tasted of carrot and freedom.

It left me speechless.

It felt like a new language on my tongue,

A language I did not know,

But wished to speak.

I tried  

My lips uttered

“Spaseeba, Moya Luboyv”

On his lips.