Marie Lecrivain
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Heart Beaters Underneath the shade of a striped pavilion, you have led me to a circle of heart beaters, whose power confuses, and rearranges my own rythym. You step in, join the chorus, your own cadences a steady stream merging into an ocean of music. I stand and watch the many admirers coming to pay tribute, with sways, dips & swirls, of hips & hands, lost in the magic of the notes- joyfully helpless, caught up in the net cast over them. I am alone. You are the spiral of the beats, turning round & round. I cannot move into music, the way you can, write my own score, raise my voice. But I can feel the joy of living. The sounds we strive to remember from before we were born, what we move to everyday. and I love you more for it. Van Gogh's Lament left of my shoulder the moon dips into the fires of my disturbed mind- cannot seek solace in it�s carnelian glow, dawn is so many maddening saffron daggers piercing my eyes and chases away the brief peace from the ephemeral hour before daybreak: how can one maiden be so cruel? Memory (#3 in a series) In the halls of reminiscence lies the wheel that spins around cardinal points- reverse to erase the painful strokes time and destiny deepen in my soul flesh a need to breathe, but cannot- under this mass of sorrow pressing down onto my seventh chakra. Now as Katherine, I let myself fall into this lassitude of acceptance inevitability brings- no more lingering desire to inhabit a hollow shell of grief - I wish rebirth. Mnemosyne's daughters silently glide into periphery of my vision lightly stroke my brow and back- bow me back onto this mystic carousel adhere my weary limbs to these cardinal points- Will I awaken in the dawn, or fuse with the sunset? Spiral down into time before cognition I submerge into these seductive amnesiac bonds- all is quiet- all - simply is. (dedicated to Peggy Dobreer) Main Page
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