Photograph c.1939
the 2-of-us came here and you’ll never know
the whirling of promises falling like snow
(train stamp fifty cents)
We planted our whys We ate our now
the someones were someones and We were too
(with buffalo nickels and how do you do)
with sweaty ifs circ ling their way down the drain
postcards leaflets bread rain
the names of the dead that We know you’ll forget
the empty rooms where our parents met
(speak hush laugh and weep)
old chairs full of tos and froms going to sleep
We stare at you whenly from sepia tone
our theres were all lost but We weren’t alone
studied silence and lose by keep
unfaltering children, sung oldly to sleep
grasping in earnest for now and for soon
and practising maybes alone in our room
(write hope smile and then) We
let our nevers remain un(if)d
Wolfgang chased down Gow-ee-thee street
(and if they could see, O those openmouthed guys
the carved painted years that We left behind
the unwritten love notes and empty parades.)
And that’s all finished now i guess
(weve children’s children whose nexts do not hear)
we becomes me and me turns to her
year by year and then by now
tick by sigh and page by leaf
we’ve stopped our nexts (we’re done with grief)
they don’t make ifs now but o what do we care
cleanse by crumble and oh by never
the whatifs we breathed have all become plain
cut bleed dance again
the world that we from/d is read and gone
sleep wait hold dawn
——————
“until the dust had reached our lips”
(Inspired by “I died for beauty, but was scarce” by Emily Dickenson)
waxy, static lips
pursed with nothing more to say
Our hopeful plastic eyes and
still-twitching blue fingers have
congealed into flakes of disembodied styrofoam
We are the ghosts of lovers of ideals
We are mannequins
forgotten
better dead than real
our wishes are lying disassembled
in molding cardboard boxes
my reddish, blusish mind
begs for hospital flowers.
—————
“O, tie me down some bliss”
O, tie me down some bliss
O, string me up some love
For today’s is the very last sun, I know,
That every shall shine above, above—
That ever shall shine above.
O let the bells all ring,
Unleash your voices, scream
For tomorrow’s the day when we all descend
To the darkened pit of a dream, a dream
To the death-throes of a dream.
So soon shall the lights go out
But O, the crying—list!
O the hot fast wind
And the sour air
And the music, the music beyond compare
Please catch me a fistful of bliss
Won’t you tie me down some bliss?
———–
“a quiet murderess is Snow”
a quiet murderess is Snow
lightly
smothering
the pulsing streets
the swaying trees
the still-warm bodies of rats
do not see that
she is burying them in her kisses
a soft cover pulled
over the din, like
the silencer on a gun, like
a fist stuffed in the screaming O of a mouth
her cold smile
her deadly embrace
fade the landscape into shades of grey,
into doves and gloves and cold lead pipes
there is no evading
the sheets
and duvets
of frost
Snow is a quiet murderess
i think, as a hush falls over the city and
my pen runs out of ink.
Samantha Mozes
Age 15, Grade 10
Bard High School Early College
Silver Key