Wednesday, February 5, 2014

The Tale of Revati

Revati, goddess of love and war, this be her tale
There was sunset in her navel there was ginger in her ale. 

far away, where sunlight meets moonlight and sunlight and moonlight meet twilight and sunlight and moonlight and twilight swim across this river made of monograms and epitaphs of coldly dead ghosts of the city, 
drenched in blood of love and hate 
waters rose like waters rise
i was to keep the keys hidden
i was to speak to the guts of silence 
when the nights were naked and the days were silver 
and she stood at the shores, and she hummed a tune or two
and we offered little flowers to the mist 
and there were kisses for mercy to befall. 
this was long long ago
ask the relics, they might know. 

and then the plague came
footsteps drowned
angry ants marched out from hell
i saw ballerina as she swam across
i saw dogs dodging the booms 
it was a lot and it wasn't much
for nothing to be and for everything to not-be
Mr Sorrow, he wore his hat in style
and smoked his last cigar
as balloons flew all night by the sea
and tears dripped down the cherry tree
and the shadow rang its bells of doom
and the lovers hated and the haters loved 
and the last kisses were kissed and the last daggers were drawn
the phone rang at 5
the phone rang at 6
the earth was a cake
the sky was a sky
and thus it all happened
before the houses marched out
and there was music in the leper colonies
and there was music in the heart of guts 
and there was music in the guts of heart
and there was music. 
and then there was more music
and everything was music 
and everywhere was music
and everyone was music

Revati, she raises her glass of blue wine
and she sheds her clothes one by one
and she walks up to me
and she is a princess from picture-books on Egyptian history 
and my head is tied to the canvasses
my feet are stuck on the windchimes
my teeth beget stoic laments 
for the ghosts sing songs of places were sunlight and moonlight and twilight become one
and there isn't anything else 
but for strange places to go
and deep inside there's this bright bordello 
where the women don smiles of sorrow
and the world drowns in their fond folds
that's where lonely people go
when the ants march back 
and find rice of love 
in places with faces 
that they have never looked at before
and Revati, she closes her door
and i lug my shadow down
and you lug your shadow down
and we lug our shadows down
to the edges of this ghost-town
where the stars lose their trumpets tonight. 

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