193. Victoria Park, July

Darren P. (Oct 12, 2013)

https://es.foursquare.com/v/victoria-park/4bdda1c00ee3a593bafd2db0

your eyes

glow gold

in the summer

sunshine

your smile

as warm as

Canadian

midsummer

can be

by the river

watching

swans and

children

play

time so

slow

and the

air so

sweet

even then

I’m not sure

I realized the beauty of

such a moment

simple,

wondrous

as you are

as we are

gold glints

shining in summer

sunbeams,

beaming

brilliant

March 21, 2020

Montréal, QC

189. The hours between

You have been asleep for hours -
three and a half,
approximately.

Here
I am:
not anxious (a
welcome surprise
)

the night is though,
I hear an occasional
car and a distant
party rumbling
incessantly;

I am reading
emails and
Instagram comments,
half-aware of the
black-and-white episode
of "What's My Line"
playing
at my left
nightstand.

I am at peace;
I could drift off at
any point, half-
conscious;

and it is not
that I have too much to do,
but I revel in my
Bohemian nocturne
as I squeeze the
last drop
of possible waking.

I briefly fantasize of a
day job
where I earn
a decent salary, benefits,
2 paid weeks off -
the thought! -

where I wake and sleep
at the same two times
every
single
day - the
horror!

Such a regular life,
such a square
existence.
And I did have a taste -
for three months
teaching Grade 12 chemistry
to six
teens who will
grow up to
do the
same:

I leave the
regular hours to
you:
waking, sleeping, and
otherwise:

as I spend these
pensive few
dark ones,
brooding, contemplating,
creating.

Living solo
for just a few
more
moments.

Aug 15, 2018
Waterloo, ON

187. A Love - Backwards

Ari I

Scene: Toronto Music Garden

http://www.harbourfrontcentre.com/whatson/music.cfm?id=8464&festival_id=0

In the green-dappled
shade; purple, yellow,
pink dots
flower the
foliage.

We wind the circle of
the Bach dance
and pause in the
quiet centre.

Only birds rustle
as you pull me in and
kiss me:
"I can be romantic, too"
you say, as I
smilingly acknowledge
its truth.

Well-played

despite your uncouth
tongue and
penchant for
alcohol; I
remember this
first kiss and your
last,
its opening charm
and beauty so
unexpected
and clever.

Ari II

Scene: City Hall

https://twitter.com/dilansen_/status/750419193774891009

City hall bench
finds us sitting in the
merciful shade
Kids in wisely light-coloured
T-shirts scream and chase each
other 'round sculptures of brains.
Just earlier we wound our
way around them, reading
the artists' reasons why
each one had a different
design.

The big, winding staircase
winds,
above and around us;
cool, stony
on its underside.
We are
listening
and you draw yourself
close to me,
calves grazing beyond our summer shorts.
You like me, I
can tell;
I smile at the thought.
It's been so long
someone has wanted to be near me,
to see through my eyes
and inhabit my
oxygen.
I revel in our
mutual presence
as we silently
flaunt our homo
love
amidst the breeders
with their
shrieking
tweens.

Ari III

Scene: Richmond Towers

Only breezes
shush the netting of the
window mesh;
a sliver smiles
through the half-opened
drape

early birds have not
yet began their day;
an occasional vehicle is the remnant of the
night's
activity:
your breath grazes me
dew-spun neck,
kisses trimming its
trembling surface

You:
selfish, steal my
dormant body;
I -
half-sleeping,
gazing out the tapestry's
small-squares

selfish, smiling in
my gloating beauty,
desired, embraced,
entwined, at
last.

June 28, 2018
Waterloo, ON

186. 3/4

I. A Library

It is the 2
of us:
china in the cabinet,
glasses on the side
playing house
in a borrowed
home.

You carefully
place olives, blue cheese,
and sundried tomatoes
on the
pasta sauce-slewn
bread.

We are eating.
You are talking of your
faithless
ex,
pink T-
shirt.

And I in a pink
tank-top.

Borrowed:

The room,
the plates,
the shirt,

and me.

On loan,
copy 2,
special archives.
Books do not
feel.

II. A Window

It is dark
and you
take the blanket off the
curtain rod

mesh separates us
and the
humming night

you want to see me,
you keep saying

but the light is too
harsh
we both
know

we kiss
in darkness

I tremble as I
melt in your assured
embraces,
helpless

as you reassure
and whisper
and pause to see
if I am
all
right

this is
care, I
think

this is
love

your lips on mine,
praising me.
I am so
desired in this moment,
so beautiful, so
divine.

A demigod has
discovered me
and thirsts for
me.
What must
I
be?

III. An Omelette

Chestnut lashes,
chestnut eyes,
chestnut locks:

I see you know
in the early
light

you see me see
you,
smile, and
return to sleep

you know your
power

we split an
omelette
four
ways

one for her,
one for you,
and
one for
me.

The fourth we
split between us,
like an
afterthought.

I sit next to
you on your
couch.
Our legs graze.

Your attention is already
on your
phone.

We have no
service

Aug 6, 2017
Halifax, NS

185. My Shoulder

As we laugh
and joke of stupid
things -
your tousled hair leans on my
shoulder.

I was recovering from the
awkward lack of
conversation
earlier in the
bar

so I am taken
by
surprise

I graze your arm,
hesitantly.

Your breath
smells of
cider

(I know
later on
it's also
halitosis)

You are a
puppy

I had no choice
but to sit, stunned,
silent

night continues swishing
past the
muggy
car windows

Aug 6, 2017
Halifax, NS

184. 2/3 Oranges

You are peeling the
orange
I have given you

The director
has my attention,
but my mind
follows the segments
torn, ligament
by
ligament.

The dressing room is
a circle of
smiling bodies...

Notes are done:

You are already
leaving;

All I see is your
backpack
out the
navy blue
door.

From the
hindsight of the future
you will
later thank me
for this
little
orange, but

as you sing your
aria do you
remember
the tender hand
which has
fed you?

Aug 6, 2017
Dalhousie University, Halifax, NS

181. Torontonian Months

Sushi without
fish and
water without
ice!

Lessons back-to-
back and lessons just
alone;

Sweat and smiles and
suitcases and
backpacks -

birthdays and
cards and
Australia and
San
Francisco -

restaurants and
catching
up:

new friends and
old ones -
new buildings and
old -

smoke and homeless and
pizza and
LV:
these are the sights and sounds and
smells!

178. Torontonian for a Year

 

I am
full
of
goodbyes –

you
are full of
                 none!

I
  take

one
photograph for
posterity

in the room where
I would lay
wrapped with
you, early
mornlight
shadowing our
blind-checked
hearts

This –
room:
where once I played you
simple
Satie
while it rained outside,
and you were designing;

home of so many tears and
smiles and
ecstasies
and pains –

today I walk past
the apartment:
you are no longer
here, but here I
am,

waiting,
thinking,
remembering.

Strangers walk
by;
the time is long
past-

and yet the phantoms of a
desk, a bed, a bookshelf
                                       linger...

do buildings
                     stir
hearts?

Where was
yours?

176. Toronto Half-Life

sketches of a relationship between _______

I – јабука

Beauty is a liquid gold –

The sun is

on you or –

you

are

the sun!

Gilt, your

silver hairs

glisten, caught like

rare riches

in a sea of ebony – every

marble Hercules

and god

incarnated.

my fingers burn

at the

paper

cup;

tongue burns

at the

apple

brew

I have nowhere

but to

melt,

gold glistening

everywhere,

You

Alone

shine

with its

molten glow - !

II - ноћ

breath crystallized in

the crisp, late

night:

ears still ring

with chords and

trills and

fioratura - mine,

at least –

Light meets

window;

glass meets

the

eyes:

Feet crunch on the

carpet;

soft as the

grudging

snow:

keys -

checks for

company –

it’s dark out the

window, but

lights poke the

tender

sky;

I am seeing,

seeing:

couch, table,

television;

there’s a

hallway,

and there are

rooms:

there is a

computer and a

swivelly chair and

a mattress with

a wolf blanket,

it’s mildly juvenile,

but

adorable –

embarrassed, expectant –

I’m not sure how I

should respond –

he has prickly pins

blacking out at

me

I ask to kiss him

he blinks,

bewildered, surprised

as we meet

eyes

again

like an animal,

a toddler, seeing for the

first time:

this adorable

mountain of a

man

I am moving,

shifting already

The lips linger on

me, until it

forms in speech:

in that moment

your petulant eyes

implore me to stay

and yet the

briefness, chasteness

of those hushed and

starry-eyed, unhurried moments

haunts

me

warmed me

in that still slowly blossoming spring

snow did not cover

the barefaced

sidewalk

we walked in

silence, the

lamplights smiling

two figures

splotching their

pristine

path –

III - јутро

From 21 stories high,

they form a

metropolitan fugue

below:

a sea of swishing

Doppler effects,

a griddle of frying

vehicles –

The tender spring sun

pours onto my

curious skin:

light pours on

everything –

the buildings, the

people, the

roads:

still amongst the

weekend traffic,

breakfast

sounds from the other

room:

frying, cutting,

tinkling,

splashing –

footsteps plod toward:

they slow as they reach me

and with your eyes,

glancing over an

already tried and

familiar

view,

mine –

fervent, young

join years,

and we walk together,

sun over everything –

the cups, the plates, the

cutlery,

as we smile,

and

eat.

IV - плажа

Blaring from the

studded sea:

yachts aflame with

spinning bodies,

booming pop;

it is a scene from

Michael’s Marble Shop gone

wrong: rejects

happly tanning in the

breeze

photo-strown,

his perfect specimen

lies before

me

he smiles,

not of joy, not of

mirth –

of self-

satisfaction

seagulls squawk the

brazen azure

canopy,

the fizzing beer

laughs below;

photos kiss my

dewy skin –

magnetized:

I cannot

look away

from –

you are opening your

perfect, perfect

mouth –

a word

forms – !

V - Зелен

My mind in

yours:

Hand,

smooth as marble and

warm as the

hearth;

black prickles kiss my

tender

skin –

in the darkness,

the dull

thudding of the

green-and-white

rustles through the

night

we aren’t alone,

but very well as may be:

our muted whispers

dissolve into contented silence, listening

to our few neighbours,

their

moonlit chatter

evaporating

in favour of our

bliss in shared tenderness,

two hands

in harmony, in

unison.

I lean towards you:

I am loved,

safe.

VI - сив

Air thick with

pungent, stifling

gas;

pigeons lick

splattered oil spots

on splotchy asphalt

sometimes sun

glistens on the

buildings

nearby

sometimes we are

grateful the rain exists

outside the

terminal

boundary;

so many hours of

lungs

filling with

cubes of noxious

fumes; time spent so

mundane, so

ornery –

in a time before

and

after, it’s

strange to

be here

alone –

yet the air is

still thick

and the

pigeons lick

splattered

oil

spots;

and time treads

on, lungs

fill and

empty;

buses fill and

fill.

VII - терминал

You are

thirty million feet

away:

I try not

to touch

you

cold, calm,

and unchanged,

oxygen and

napkins lie

between us,

only –

May-time

light between is now an

autumnal grey:

and windows

eavesdrop

with corporate

glints in

tinted

eyes

When we are here again,

I turn without a

word.

I am so angry, so

proud.

I see you

saunter away through the dashboard

as usual,

lonesome and

unafraid -

it is the Last Time

we will huddle in the

fumes of the

terminal.

I yearn for

the sun-scented

oxygen of

our

shared summer,

and the quiet of your

hand in mine

in the

gentle darkness:

It has been long

since my eyes smiled

into yours so

tenderly;

these are now eyes

which know

these gold-gilt dreams

spin further backward, backward,

as I spin forward,

remembering,

in spite of

me.

174. A Shared Mile

The hills describe in pink,
of yawning suns descending:
it is an ode to love:
it is their adoration.

Our hands are interlaced;
our hearts are wrapped in silence;
it is the twilit dusk,
it is her mauve entreaty.

Paired in sylvan joy,
road the winding way
smiling to infinity
past the rose-gilt, silent trees;

My bliss swelled past our smiles
beyond the gold-drunk forests:
a love, that shared with them,
now separate, still remembers.

169. The Sidewalk Restaurant

Mapo Tofu (麻婆豆腐)

Image Source:
http://www.dianshu119.com/index.php?doc-view-881.html

Cheery chatter,
Mandarin,
surrounds like fumes;
we are
no longer
alone

cigarette smoke
deafens

the air conditioner
whirs,
green Tsingtao
bottles
glimmer,
translucent and
half-drunk

The noisy little
toddler
reaches for his
distracted 爸爸’s
tempting beer, reaches
to his lips

caught
(nearly too late), he is
smartly
rebuked

watching, I smile a
little

the 麻婆豆腐
is excellent

160. X-Ray Machines

Indonesian visitors view escalators

HK Sai Ying Pun Third Street, near Centre Street (April 2013)

Image Source: Remyumksoa

Sea:
pink, identical –
What is this?
eyes
question

some
bespectacled,
others
bejeweled

All
imperfect from the
fuschia
crop

Crisps,
adverts,
nonchalant
passersby
regard
impassively:

one sees
more
than
the other!

Amazed by this
strange new
world,
difference
divides

and reveals:

157. Au Cinéma

Electricity
moments
before the film
begins:

lights dim,
lips meet.

flesh on
flesh,
wet saliva
inter-
mingling:

Anticipation
requited at last;
darkened theatre in a
back-row
pair:

153. Leftover Love

Case for contacts:
plastic,
green and white;

Green absinthe
-tinged
Listerine;

Toothbrush,
orange;
used weekly
only
once:

souvenirs,
promises:

Pedal for an
oft-used Casio
keyboard,

CDs left for private
consumption;
glistening jewel cases
in the
shining
sun:

memories and
traces left
for another
weekend
away:
a life left
closer,
trinkets gathering,
apparent laziness

in fact

the
utmost
care

149. Cityscape

It begins again –
twilight dawns:
cars, like flecks of
light
upon the silken
highway
lanes

All ends,
all begins:
a kiss,
a touch, and a
city –

Peeking through the
tattered
blinds,
week-old socks upon
the
vintage
hardwood –

who would have thought?
bliss in simplicity
and
cityscenes

141. Glossolalia

Butterflies,
coy smiles:
I like to think
I am still naïve enough,
not yet jaded;

that I still believe
there is
love and beauty
in the world:

it is horrendous
thinking this is
all there is –

one needs a little
fantasy,
a diversion once
in a while

something to bring us
out of our
sullen moods,

to take us out of our
fatalistic musings,
and remind us

We are young,
there are moments ahead
and years behind us
already.

Let us laugh and
giggle,
foolish today,
not knowing if they
will ring again
tomorrow,
not knowing if we are
being altogether too
insincere;
for in this life,
we survive,
we enjoy.

136. Erlkönig

Obsession, lust, desire –
these are things permissible
in moments such as this:

Quiet on a snowy night,
young man hunched over,
brow wrinkled in concentration!

In a moment of oblivion,
single-minded focus,
he is unaware of my predation;

In such a moment,
brief and fortunate,
all is possible –

Knowing there’s no second
chance; no harm in being
sinful for the present:

A glance or five is
nothing; a thought or two
is nothing,

For he is leaning here,
his coatless self
upon my car

and I, his captor
have no reason to
expect or wish –

but one may dream
in an instant,
only to laugh later,

in
smiling
irony!

126. Callas Cries

So tired –
it is past anyone’s
logical bedtime

The crowd is still
cheering
the cast and crew
all
jubilant

I am so tired

Tired of E-flats
and flute cadenzas and
blood-soaked
gowns

I am tired of this
migrant
life,
receptions,
recitals,
rehearsals,

(Hear how the
audience roars –)

I missed a word tonight
in the duet with
Edgardo,
ran out of breath in the
mad scene…

Audiences hear
what they want to
hear:
success is in their
eager
hands

Roars of lions
today
jeers and boos
tomorrow –
what is success?

I failed today,
I could have done
better;
I can always do
better –
is it all absolute?
Is it just
subjective?

122. Vestibule

A moment is
nothing;
a glance is
everything!

Smiling, we
recognize each
other;

to think that you
love my company as I
love yours, that
the stranger I once
observed discreetly
across the room
is somehow here
with
me

is a strange miracle I
do not understand!

you seem to
digest my tedious words
ravenously as I do
yours

as if each one
would be the last
we ever
say!

121. Śliczny chłopiec

In the flurry, we
went our
separate ways
yet I return to you,
ablaze from a recent
victory

Conveniently,
the spot beside you is
free

Slipping next to you I
observe the last rounds
and you likely know such
tedium
is not my
aim

When they have cleared,
we take up cards:
I struggle;
you are a stronger
player than
I

Not a victory,
it was a ruse

Pulling the cards away
from my puzzled,
earnest fingers,
I see, I hope it is
I,
my words you
desire

Such tedium is
not your aim
either;
I hope
it may be the same
as mine.

Separate ways:
as we part
you seem anxious,
confused,
timid;
I never know
what you are thinking –
eyes are not so helpful
after
all

I am descending the
stairwell
myself,
alone;
I am passing a
display of books
biographies, calendars, and
things –

I greet the night
sharp breeze reminding me
how early and how
late it
is

It was November
when I wondered if I
had become a
wonderful thing to
you;
walking along the
dry cobblestones
I am smiling:
maybe it is best if we
do not know

Such simplicity, such
novelty
is one such
irreplaceable victory
I will remember,
often and
forever