Talking Poetry

I am jealous of the sand

beneath you
around you
what you see

bright things erased lady
sparkling and traveling without luggage
liquidity
before X
you are tattooed on my back music
dies down

I too grew up in
the soft hands
of the gods

and a little donkey will lead them

Tears, tears, and I know
just what they mean
honeysuckles at night

I wrote this poem for you and haven’t lost it

Copyright ©: David Shapiro

As the poet said himself, "This poem was inspired by love, the ocean and the doomed donkey in Robert Bresson’s film, "Au hasard Balthazar."

When Bach lay in prison
He could see the fugues in flight
Each necessary note
Converged in an immense (lack of) mercy

When Bach lay in death’s double bonds
He cried God is insensitive
He is irresponsible!
To the rotten ornament that was the world –

When Bach slept in the hospital*
He could not stop seeing the ignoble voices
He could see his children out simplifying
Old Bach remembered his opponent refusing to play at all

When Bach lay imprisoned and improvising in the dark
He remembered each of his enemies and begged God not to
Forgive them

Copyright ©: David Shapiro

(In: In Memory of an Angel, p. 60, 2017)

This poem could pass for a sonnet - if it rhymed and if it was less irregular...

*Bach underwent a cataract surgery which, performed without due diligence, led to his death.