Untitled #2

Poem By Algimantas Mackus

The voice of a continent prays for explorers
the voice of a continent cries out for adventure.
Round as water, salty as it is,
I raise the season of death to my lips.

You had to be born of rain and ocean, torso.
You had to be silver, plaster, water,
for a bloody act of sexual resurrection
to give the northern moonlight back its
torso of a terrain, its joy turning to stone.

The map a fateful hand etched finds one voice
growing and towering out of fog, once the voice
of a continent cries out for explorers:
the voice of a continent emerging from non-God.

Cold so cold I want only the cold
green September moonlight,
and that map copper inscribed
intaglio, to blend in with the blood.
Grey all grey for I want all of the grey
September sunrise sacrifice,
and that map in an uncovered
network of bone, to pour out of the blood.

The voice of a continent assailing explorers is
the voice of a continent submitting to their exploit.
It's for the bloody act of sexual resurrection
you, torso, had to be born of rain and ocean.

Voice of a landmass, now body and sex,
squeals out hysterical just before dawn, against the fact
that in a copper plate, intaglio,
midway through the ritual, an enraged God set out
to revoke the mass redemptions he threw down.

Round as water, salty as it is,
I give God his season of death back.
I will not accept solid, everyday detail.
I will not accept the ripe oval shape a grape has.

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Other poems of MACKUS

Dying Is Strange

The one night I got to spend enjoying spring
would have to be the one I hit the dirt,
though the dew had turned green earlier,
much greener than anything that spring.

In Triumph

And death won't be won over.
Dead men don't turn back
once their elbows prop rubble,
with the north moon's north eye

From A Misty Autumn Morning

I never loved the earth.
I meant to leave it
to its loneliness.

In Mourning

Right at seven that morning
right then at seven a.m.
it was that morning at seven
death had to have homage shown.

Jurek

I would lift your body into the crown of a green tree
if I had a tree
greening.

Talk About The Dead Being Born

Here's one place torture broke down.
I frown and am reassured
God is on our side.
Gott mit uns.