The Major Thirteen
The first time
I dreamed the Major Thirteen
I was just over sixty.
I was dreaming of falling down to sea
With no parachute.
Before to splat the water
I asked the wind
To appease my drop:
So did the wind.
And I started singing.
Say the fishermen
Along the Cornwall coast
If they hear a song
At windy full moon nights.
That’s might be my song.
In another life
In another life
I would fall in love
with a harpist
I would listen
to her proves
attending
at my daily trifles.
In another life
I would understand
much better
the value of time
praising God
since my young days.
In another life
I hope to see
the endless dawn.
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Everyone has got a flag
And I remind those songs
talking of peace
talking of love.
Today I remind them
listening to the radio.
I hear from the news
that after
decades
cannonballs keep flying
men searching for command
and people keep dying.
But now I don't blame God anymore
for the man's thirst of power
for his greed of money.
Everyone has got a flag of glory
to cover the shame of death
and make his murders as were a right.
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Where I’ll
be going
This
afternoon
After
visiting my tired old father
And my
mother,
searching
on television
Her
youngish lost dreams?
Where will
I go?
Where will
I go
If my fate
Coerces me
here
Where
struggle is harder
Against
prejudice
Against
habitude
Against the
foresaid?
My body
suffers
From
constraint continence
‘cause I
don’t Know the way
To astral
projection
For
escaping the world.
I so can’t
get
any stuff
To keep me
on
And got no
place
To go to
This
afternoon
And I might
be writing somewhere:
“When I’ll
be going?”
We’ll unfold our verses
If everything’s been written
And everything been said
We won’t speak anymore
We won’t write anymore
But if we are new prophets
Sent to remind manhood
The world belongs to God
And if the world drowns off
In the mud of inky well
And scribes and Pharisees
Roar in the vanities
Then we’ll still howl our
dreams
Writing down all our visions
And against their arsenals
We will unfold our verses.
In
Cagliari September 2008
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I remember when,
at the winter solstice,
we danced under
the stars
to propitiate the favor of the gods!
Then came a man,
the son of the Only true God!
I still look at the sky above me
when the stars come together in December!
But now I know
whom to pray
for the weaknesses of humanity,
and I know whom to thank
for the beauty of the world!
The new day
(on death of my brother
Mauritius)
Now the veils of Maya have fallen
And no longer covers your body
The armor of the Syrian Naaman;
I see on your face
Shining again the ancient light
Of our childhood games
When hopes
were all to come
And the misleading curtain
Which hardens the hearts
Had not yet come between us.
Run now
On your nimble legs
Wait for me in the sunny lands
Where the sun never sets down.
