so you think,
one death will move me
and take away all my remembrance?
my ears, even now, ache with metaphors
and ceremonies
do you still need an elegy?
Helen,
I have seen God in your eyes
when enemy ships decimated Troy
as I shielded you with my open arms
and I have scoured the sky for centuries
without a last trace.......
I never looked for you
in ice-buried museums
your skin still smells of holy wars......
and yet,
you talk of all the mirrors in the city
if you want to recreate memories,
then let all love end tonight!
a star sinks from the night sky
with a wounded apology...........
I wonder if any stars
are ever missed
do you still crawl along the busy crosslanes
and let your eyes cast virtual images?
touch me, for once, with your buttery eyes
and etch in me, your cold reflection
anoint my body with wax,
and reveal to me those ancient secrets
of love-making
beneath a canopy of whispers.........
can words ever recreate that silence?
let's explore ill-written poems
and repeat the jazz on Nero's flute
let's hide behind metropolitan lies
and cinematic fancies -
prepare the table for a last supper,
stack your pills with funeral songs.......
and let us, together, evoke the unborn prophet
from your next wedding -
as Troy goes up in flames.........
Note : (Though the allusion is made to the mythical Helen of Troy, she is, on a dual level, the 'snow girl' from my previous poem)
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