Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Noel Negele- Three Poems


No Title

It was morning
I remember
and I hadn't slept in two days
and I had that thirst
not many will understand
with my last tormented coins
inadequate for most things
I bought 5 bottles of beer
carried them in a blue plastic bag
5 blocks to home
and at my doorstep
the bottles pierced through the bag
and fell on the floor
one by one
shattered there
all the liquid euphoria
spreading there
below my feet

and I went inside
thought of killing myself
ended up smoking beside the window
thinking
that when you want to drink
badly
badly
so very badly
and not being able to
you are close to madness

but not even madness
came to alleviate the distress
I was just sober
caved in by life
and tomorrow
seemed as far
as australian deserts.

That was some time ago
and today I feel just as bad
but remembering bad days
of working 15 hours
or having your ass handed to you
by someone half your weight
helps

you sit thinking
about those days
you were certain you werent going to make it

or those days you thought you were going to die

and you realize
this day
will add
to those memories

tomorrow.

Until then
you drink
and wait.



Half Man.

There was a time
I worked in Albania
with my brother for a private company
whose boss was my fathers cousin
a short man who looked like a penguin
with black pockets under the eyes
a man who once bragged
that he had build his own house
fixed the cables
and the hydraulic pipes
and if that's true
then I guess there's a merit in that
but I ended up slapping him one day and lost the job
because he wouldn't pay me
and I thought there must be a union
that'll help me
in court
but that's not how it works over here

anyway
each morning
me and my brother would
dress up
get in the car unfed and unshaved
our eyes two red dots
and we would drive through a specific street
that no matter how early at dawn
there was always a traffic jam
and at that red light
that seized so many minutes from our lives
was this half man
that had no legs from the waist and down
wearing tattered slippers on his hands
that begged for money
and this man moved fast
you wouldn't believe it

And I said to my brother
" You see that tragedy over there?"

"Yes" he answered sleepily

" I think we should kill him. I think its the right thing to do."

He said:
" You see that man over there?"

And I saw a dark skinned man
with bulgy arms
and a golden neckband

"Yeah?"

" That man is working him. Sort of like a pimp."

" Then why doesn't this poor creature take his own life then?"

My brother thought of this for a second

" Because he's a pussy."
he said as we passed the tragedy
and we never talked again about that half man

and when we arrived at the company on that morning
my brother had a joke to tell

and when I heard it
I laughed
as if everything in the world
was alright. 



Not Even Madness

It is not wise to take life seriously

there's love out there
bodies rubbing against bodies
eyes staring inside the depths of other eyes
hands enveloping hands
promises made, promises of infinity
in short spans
each duet considers their love as unique
and maybe it is
maybe each same thing is unique somehow
maybe each beheading
no matter how much identical
is different somehow

the dancers are careless
their vitality is an earthquake
they are not lacking
their laughter is pure and idiotic

and I can not laugh

as vivaldi's la follia
is loud in the night
that I'm in
I am alone and drinking
trying not to take life seriously

trying

but rarely succeeding.

Oh mother
I am not rough
like I should

I'm not rough at all

the walls are taller
the distances wider
the spaces more vacant

the animals no longer need fondling

and in the deadness of the night
as the words shape new meanings into their
guts
I have run out of ways to ask for help

and in the bushing darkness
I squirm in the kernel
of the few good memories
I have left.

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