Joseph S. Josephides
Let Us Plan Beyond Death, Rimbaud
The docs cut my leg, no hope for me to survive,
the paralysis affects already my eyes, my heart,
Rimbaud suffers the same and raves in his bed:
'My sister Isabel, you in the light, me in the dark.
He invites me to escape and go to Algiers, Aden
both of us be hikers in a large road, in mini forests,
our heads touching the sky, both as lords of silence,
a poet, says, must fight against the ocean of evil,
then the sun pulls our drunken boat with light-fibres.
Rimbaud, life is worthy to enjoy, before you live it:
I sent photos and gifts to my friends and relatives,
now I order togas, tailored to my grandkids’ sizes,
a photo, with me smiling now, for their graduation
from the University; at that time I’ll exist for them,
in that photo of the past which enters into future.
If my trireme is buckled, her name will still float,
if the sea disappears, my sweat will mold another sea,
if the island is dissolved, tears will solidify a same one.
Build me into a wall with a sound of love, like the King
with his flute, let my bones be in a new lovable body.
We are the very Space-time which exists thanks to us;
If we lose everything, we stare at you from the infinity,
moving for you the trees that had turned into marble.
Good morning to you night, light is born in darkness.
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