00. Three Poems Poem by Eugene Issaus

I. To Ashes, or, epilogue of the Flood

To Ashes.
Though my heart is still wandering
among the thorns being thrown into
the cold fire.
The fire has not destroyed anything,
has nothing been destroyed?
The thorns. The Ashes. The freezing fire.
I haven’t felt a feeling
since when? Time has
lost its power.

Nothing is being created, and
nothing destroyed—as
fake as the flood.
The flood that existed only in
my memory, which is real.
The flowers are beautiful

Where is the flood?

I cannot celebrate my senses…
No! Not Now! Not Ever!

My heart is playing with the thorns
which crackles in the freezing fire.
It is alone. I am away. Forever.
My heart has not been burnt into ashes.
My soul is torn.


II. Out of the Story

I was laid in
eternity
I’m living! I can feel…

I live
somewhere
in eternity,
which is out of the story known by everyone

Who knows if the trees are green
Who knows if the sky is blue
Who knows if I was really
laid in
eternity

One more minute, and I’ll be out of the story
Who cares? I’m the story.

III. The Picture

Nothing is seen from the picture apart from the black colour.
I said, I painted the whole world inside,
the whole world of mine,
all the different things.

But without light,
all the things in the picture
are equal.