"POEMS"
by Stephen Pain


Index
ETUDE
LUCIA & VITTORIO



 
ETUDE

In a prosperous German town
somewhere in Bismarck Strasse
I watched a performance
of your fingers drumming out
on the table Chopin 
and when they finally stopped
you gave me such a look, as
I lurched forward, head steeped
in romance; was it the drink,
the bottle of rose, that made
your frown a smile?
But nevertheless, you continued
we found we had so much in common
I loved Russian literature, you
had studied Slavonic languages,
you had even seen my favourite
movie, Chung King Express,
and when I came back from the
customary dance with the bride,
you had moved to another table,
was it Dutch courage that made me
give you my address?
Will you write now? Or will you
be forever be pulling out the slip of
paper and think of writing, whatever
the case, I'd like to think that
this an epistolary equivalent
to the movie, like when the Chinese
girl plays the CD again and again
in the apartment when the police
man is not around.

Back to Index


LUCIA & VITTORIO

O.K. there was a day when we did love and dream
read verse by candle light,
and sleep by the side of a mountain stream,
and looked at stars in the Winter night,
    but this was long before
the advent of the aeroplane
in those lost days of yore.
Now nothing is quite the same,
when we kiss, above there is a satellite,
and down below we are caught
by a passing car's headlamp beam;
our inner secrets are published
in what was the ethereal air,
and in seconds our love is rubbished
by strangers on the Net.

However, there is hope it would seem
as multi-media has of yet
been unable to comprehend simple irony,
too slippery, and too subtle is real love
that it transcends and taxes the virtual glove
that is supposed to substitute your caress
with a higher and yet erotic geometry,
but simply does not know which way to go,
in Chaos programmed, it touches a rude dream,
and then let's go, unable to make up its mind
whether it is a woman or a man; in a stream 
of data it touches the Tree of Knowledge
and recoils later with guilt
meanwhile Lucia and Vittorio they kiss
and the skies Light up, the birds do sing,
the cherubs come out to play, so sweet
is the Victory of their love over this
sad and ridiculously crude modernity.


Back to Index

Mail to Stephen Pain