-I-
Jazz of blue crystals,
jazz of blood,
cymbals, movement, colours
in the naked principle of light.
We invite you now
to the wedding of crystals.
Crystal Blue weds Crystal Red,
Crystal Red weds Crystal Blue,
(it’s the same you might think,
but it never it is, in the world of crystals)
There will be dancing among the atoms,
all the ladies dressed in jewels,
there will be food and merry-making,
all the fairies decked with clouds,
there will be music and mystery wine
all who have come will enjoy the night,
for Dream himself has come tonight
to bless the couple in their sleep.
It is the wedding of Crystal Blue,
it is our pleasure to have you here,
It is the wedding of Crystal Red,
your company with us our pleasure share.
We have a lovely bride in blue,
and a handsome bridegroom in red,
may your blessings be with them
and light up their bridal bed.
we thank you once again
for your presence here,
at the Wedding of Crystals.
-II-
Eli, Eli
kiss me more
softly with your crystal paws.
Eli,
the world turns square
in your arms
the sky turns pink
between your thighs,
in our world of crystals.
blue is red,
and red is blue,
when I’m in you.
Spring is round the corner
and the mist has cleared from Mirror Street,
the city drops her layers
like the crystals drop their garments in bed
and light echoes from glass
while the glasses shatter and merge,
blue and red with a violet tint
and a violet smile.
(virgin on the violin
with a violet smile,
violate the silence
with a violent scream)
violin screams
wool and water ,
violent silence
violet dreams,
frenzied creation
let there be life,
blue dissolves
violet wakes.
-III-
-Is there anyone there?
-Is there anyone coming
at the birth of the crystal?
my little violet princess
with eyes like weed.
You’ll find some cold veal and porridge
on the table,
if you are hungry,
and gifts to buy at crystal station:
faces, masks and dolls for a dime
if you have time to ponder and choose,
you all will choose well;
you better choose well
like you’re choosing between life and death.
To choose wrong is to die,
to choose wisely is to die,
(not much of a difference, I’m afraid)
but you must choose all the same
and better choose well.
Choose a face,
choose a smile,
choose a grimace
and choose her words,
(for you don’t have much of a choice)
and you’re condemned to choose her fate
before you choose death.
you must go on choosing
when you have a choice,
and you must go on choosing
when you don’t have a choice.
So choose a life
for our crystal princess.
-IV-
There is the silence
beneath the door,
here is the dice in the wind
spinning on the floor.
Spinning blood…spinning with the scent of atoms. Poets of fate and fall.
She travels in the wind, smoking Martian cigarettes. Your violet smile…
your violent fall, my Nazi princess … a funeral of kisses…the violin
hallucinating in opium orbit.
You think more, you mean less.
World turns into onion scales.
And all that remains,
is the naked desire of cats.
World turns into onion scales.
And all that remains,
is the naked desire of cats.
The radio in the cloud knows your secrets. The world laughs at you
like a madman. Demons of memory stir in her breast…and slice
her skin like the ghost train travelling through the woods.
The moon sheds off her ghost skin…hides her soul
in her purse and smiles. Every skin she
sheds is the skin of orange time,
skin of the radio sky,
skin of crystals,
skin of
silence.
like a madman. Demons of memory stir in her breast…and slice
her skin like the ghost train travelling through the woods.
The moon sheds off her ghost skin…hides her soul
in her purse and smiles. Every skin she
sheds is the skin of orange time,
skin of the radio sky,
skin of crystals,
skin of
silence.
I am the silence, she tells me.
-I am the transcendence.
I am the violet monster, she tells me.
- Myself am hell.
-V-
Now you need a guitar,
now you need the sorcerer of beauty
to create super-time,
and a madhouse for Dria .
As the crystals wither in the radio sky,
and their colours decay
into black and white.
Hearts throb colourless;
colourless in language,
colourless in love,
colourless in time.
Colour dangles like strained time
around their necks,
and strangulates in love .
What you cannot love must end,
what you love must never end,
yet it seldom happens.
We solemnly request your presence
at the funeral of the crystals.
We will all be dressed in black,
the mourning will last nine days
and after the burial
with tears in our eyes,
we shall once again remember
the happy life of the crystals.
('Madhouse for Dria' is a tribute to Inam Hussain Mullick. The Wedding of the Crystals is the second part of my poem Ghost Triangle. The other two parts are Baptism by Time and Ghosts of the Ganga. If you want to read my entire poem, then you can contact me at deepteshinflames@gmail.com or even leave your email address here.)