Monday, June 25, 2012

"Too much to dream"*




(for 2 East Side poets and a friend who loved her the most)


Well, not dal sonno (i.e. dreaming as I sleep) but now that I feelingly
    see it, I see
    the conversations in each other's arms,
    hours til dawn--

In the Village neons say she's a poet (and I'd gone in search of it once,
 like a tourist, stupidly)
    and can also mean pilgrim on the curb,evicted
    daughter's small hand

Apt. rails rose thru pain to the South (for one) while she,
                                                                         at Basho's own pool,
  tossed green-blue pebbles
  (she who'd felt stir great ripplets in a friend's womb)

They were bones and nerves both, & despite the green-blue &  pain,
  went down 2 roads, one towards
                                             parks & stone sparkling like neon or sun,
  the other moving in great curves--

    At the end of their street,
    not far from water--
    hungry for talk
   

    2 East Side poets
    but that intensity of hers above all, not a dream--
    sandy hair

and always as I am about to start up, first over the rails,  always a tourist,
  she flies straight to her, among the holly
  swelling 'gainst her

*Title taken from a 60s song

2 comments:

Ed Baker said...

con,
speaking of The City here is a true story:


"speaking of Harley's and motor=cycles...

John Cage gave me his address
over on Bank Street
and i was with Fay over on
2 nd Ave
so on a drizzly day I walked over to Bank Street
and
had to walk by an Hell's Angels club
with, maybe 24 Harley's parked in a row

by the time that I got to Cage's house

107 Bank Street I was soaking wet,,,,

I knocked on the door and Robert Duncan opened it
and said: "John's down stairs, go knock"

as Duncan was saying this... John Lennon and Yoko Ono
were coming out John said to me: "Loh" (Hello)

when I got back to Pauline's (Fay''s) I told her.

she said " you're impressed ? don't be an idiot"

Conrad DiDiodato said...

The Village must've been quite a happening place (only read about by me)

My poem's a tribute to Hortensia--though of course Samperi's part of the same pain & isolation-- I shoulve gotten to know her better (when I had the chance): that's me stupidly looking up at her neon sign, like a tourist and, of course, the brilliance and talent only appreciated afterwards.

Well, she at least had one real admirer (to whom she's already appeared) who'd always spoken her uniqueness & integrity. I've always been jealous of that real affection between poets.