Do you know the country where forgetting weighs <br />far heavier than memories we store? <br />No orange blossom blooms where we forget the days, <br />and nights that are not memorable ignore. <br />From there, from there, I wish to flee and yet am drawn <br />because I feel that I may yet recover <br />in that strange land where all the fruit are rudely torn <br />from branches far beyond my reach my lover. <br /> <br />Inspired by the first lines of a poem by Samuel Beckett in “Poetry”, bon bon il est un pays, and Goethe’s Kennst du as Land? <br /> <br />all right all right there’s a land <br />where forgetting where forgetting weights <br />gently upon worlds unnamed <br />there the head we shush it the head is mute <br />and one knows no but one knows nothing <br />the song of dead mouths dies <br />on the shore it has made its voyage <br />there is nothing to morn <br /> <br />my loneliness I know it oh well I know it badly <br />I have time is what I tell myself I have time <br />but what time famished bone the time of the dog <br />of a sky incessantly paling my grain of sky <br />of the climbing ray ocellate trembling <br />of microns of years of darkness <br /> <br />you want me to go from A to B I cannot <br />I cannot come out I’m in a traceless land <br />yes yes it’s a fine thing you’ve got there a mighty fine thing <br />what is that ask me no more questions <br />spiral dust of instants what is this the same <br />the calm the love the hate the calm the calm <br /> <br /> <br />1/28/08<br /><br />gershon hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-lover-8/
