Long En Poems

 Translation of Eric Mottram’s Poem 33 in Interrogation Rooms by T. Wignesan

33.  on a vu un homme courir/ de la scène de crime un homme est maintenant en train d’aider/ la police avec...

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“SUMMER”



Where 
has Summer 
gone?

The world 
has lost 
Summer

Sweet 
little 
dream

missing 

all those other 
beautiful  
small dreams 

seen as toys
small and 
inconsequential 

casually tossed aside, 
disposable play,
things

pure shining lights
smiling eyes once so bright, 
switched off,

'neath...

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“Frequency” 

we are separated 
from the others
by a thin membrane

electromagnetic

we are receptors
unignited ununited
only tuned into our own

frequency

existing to be lit
the fuses touching
reaching delicately 

that which we do 
and do not see, 
believe

answers embedded
in tablets read...

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"As other spirits sail on music, mine, oh my love, swim on your perfume." Charles Baudelaire

"Sometimes you find an old bottle from which the soul returns." 
Charles Baudelaire

"Smell is a Word. Perfume is Literature."

"There are...

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It’s heading for our planet at ten thousand miles an hour
To stop it all the experts say we haven’t got the power
All the nukes in all the world won’t constitute a plan
So someone said, ‘All...

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IN THE WILD

Early morning, we go for a drive,
An awesome feeling as we arrive,
At our camp gate which, opens 
At 6 o’clock, 
Now we are in the African bush
Which, will unlock,
Moments that we have missed...

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Enheduanna is the first writer we know by name. She created the first poetry anthology and hymnal, circa 2250 BC, in ancient Sumer. She was the daughter of King Saragon the Great. 

Lament to the...

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"The Sleeper and The Supernaturalist"


The Sleeper
shone as she walked 
through the Woods

shining alive 
like nothing
natural could

caught 
in the moonlight 
unaware

the innocent
red-caped roses stared
the trees whispered,

"beware, beware"

barefoot softly 
the Supernaturalist 
transfigures instead

from under shine 
she bares...

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"Salvage"


Salvage the fixating salvation 
unfurling from the wreckage
of a numb world twisted inside
treasure climbs swimming 
the ladder from the deep of all things 
reaching upwards travelling in a new time
of melting morpheme moments overlapping 
dissolved...

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IN THE WILD 
( Re Post)

Early one morning, we begin our drive,
An awesome feeling as we arrive,
At our camp gate which, opens 
At six o’clock, 
Now we are in the African bush
Which, will unlock,
Moments that...

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“ANTE BELLUM”


BEIGEBest served where it can’t be seen
On Stirling Silver platters
With redruM narcotics
Delivered by sharp Blood-Red
Well-mannered talons
Strutting in sleek wet rolling tight-skirted
Long French Silk Stockinged legs all the way down to 
Lethal Six Inch stilettos...

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"The Swoon Hypothesis" - Part 2



Arimathea stands next to you and I on the deck, soon we are back in Nazareth, you press into my palm, 
“A very rare Dubunni coin” you say - on...

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THIS WORLD OF DEW

This world? 
Moonlit dew
flicked from a crane's bill.
—Eihei Dogen Kigen, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Seventy-one?
How long
can a dewdrop last? 
—Eihei Dogen Kigen, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Dewdrops beading grass-blades
die before...

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Translation with commentary of an archetypal Wild West Classic : " Summer Wine "

(I'd wage my bottom diamond dime future generations will re-discover and treasure this true American classic like only a few others of...

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The laws are not in the management of the soul, but the greatest science fruits are punished with the sounds of the rails that follow the trains of the cows living without breaking the suffering...

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Translation of the Elegy: On Marceline Desbordes-Valmore - À L'amour - Poem by Marcel Moreau Translated by T. Wignesan

Reprends de ce bouquet les trompeuses couleurs,      (Take back the dubious colours...

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Translation of Eric Mottram’s Courbet: Elegy 8 by T. Wignesan

Blanches oeuvres ouvertes
résident dans les jours
la surface du banc de travail est noire
les géraniums-lierres
les fougères et les adragans
accumulent leurs oeuvres et jours:
La toile noire de Courbet
un...

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I discovered a poem longing in my heart, it is for you, 
And it is about you, my sweetheart. This poem resembles you.
I wrote it this morning, before the arrival of the auroral shadow.
Her words...

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"Backhand"



You have turned me
inside out, cut open
like a tennis ball
I used to beat backhand
along with the racket
hard against the garage wall

To make sense of it all
as a child, the grief stolen
all too swiftly and replaced...

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Back Door Side Door Front Door : Which door might a Confucian take
 
..................for René ETIEMBLE (Jan. 26, 1909 – Jan. 7, 2002)*

In homage - dedicated to the Chair Professor of Comparative Literature
.................at the prestigious...

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"White Noise and the Mother Load of Dark Matter" 

underneath the static
what exists 
is never seen nor heard

for what it truly is 
the eyes and mind 
retaliate in the deciphering

the invisible return 
each night and...

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(based on Aldous Huxley's book "Brave New World")

Human hatchery

Clink clink clink clink...
Test tubes prattling past
along the chrome plated production line.
Glistening under fake fluorescence
humming in harmony
with the magnetic motors
of conveyors, centrifuges and camshafts.
Biological blobs of gamete...

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The Exaltation of Inanna: Opening Lines and Excerpts 
by Enheduanna, daughter of Sargon I of Akkad and high priestess of Inanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Lady of all divine powers!
Lady of the resplendent light!
Righteous Lady...

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I began reading Jane Anna Gordon's "Creolizing Political Theory"
from the back toward the front,
as usual,
because if I appreciate where this narrative journey will end,
then I probably will find we start off with similar questions 
of...

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Translation of Les Moulins de mon Cœur-THE WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND by T. Wignesan

(For the orignal text in French by Eddy MARNAY : see here below. The English version by Marilyn and Alan BERGMAN differs...

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