ritus

im spiegel

Words Are the Diminution of All Things

The brief secrets are still here,
and the light has come back.
The word remember touches my hand,
But I shake it off and watch the turkey buzzards bank and wheel
Against the occluded sky.
All of the little names sink down,
weighted with what is invisible,
But no one will utter them, no one will smooth their rumpled hair.

There isn’t much time, in any case.
There isn’t much left to talk about
as the year deflates.
There isn’t a lot to add.
Road-worn, December-colored, they cluster like unattractive angels
Wherever a thing appears,
Crisp and unspoken, unspeakable
in their mute and glittering garb.

All afternoon the clouds have been sliding toward us
out of the Blue Ridge.
All afternoon the leaves have scuttled
Across the sidewalk and driveway, clicking their clattery claws.
And now the evening is over us,
Small slices of silence
running under a dark rain,
 Wrapped in a larger.

Charles Wright (*1935)

zusammen mit mir

nur im spiegel bin ich echt

décoratif

ready

mentholcigarette

vom rasenden schwert

Es schlürfen die Pfeiffen/ es würblen die Trumlen/
Die Reuter und Beuter zu Pferde sich tumlen/
Die Donnerkartaunen durchblitzen die Lufft/
Es schüttern die Thäler/ es splittert die Grufft/
Es knirschen die Räder/ es rollen die Wägen/
Es rasselt und prasselt der eiserne Regen/
Ein jeder den Nechsten zu würgen begehrt/
So flinkert/ so blinkert das rasende Schwert.






Georg Philipp Harsdörffer (1607-1658) und Johann Klaj (1616-1656)

mirror on the wall